Year in Review 2024…and an Ending

 

For a while I have been finding it difficult to get myself to this blog. I will write entire things out in my journal that I think I want to share, but somehow I never get to the blog. I feel an aversion.

On Saturday I had an epiphany. This blog I began in spring of 2017 has run its course. The life I had then and subsequent years is gone. Not just that. 2024, with my commitment to write every day (although not achieved) seemed to cap the entire experience. The trauma, drama, agonies, and difficulties of 2024 lay heavy in this blog.

Time for a fresh start. 

One of the things I've avoided doing is the Year in Review in Photos that usually I'd do on or about January 1st. I decided if I am going to end this blog, I need to do it with the Year in Review.

I will be introducing my new blog, which is already named and set up, very soon. Meanwhile, enjoy my walk through the joyful parts of 2024 that are worth remembering. The tragedies loom so large that it is good to remember it wasn't all doom and gloom. 

YEAR IN REVIEW 2024

Feeling Connected

Kara and I visit the Butterfly House

In January, Kara and I made our first visit to the Peace River Botanical & Sculpture Gardens. On a gorgeous day, we studied sculptures and plants and works of art and butterflies. It included a boardwalk out to the river where there was a gathering of loons migrating through. It is a simply amazing place, and I hope to get back there very soon.

Moments with Loved Ones

The captions under these pictures tell the story. I am grateful for every moment with friends and family.

Iris and I met at Copperhead Books. November

Amy and I dined at Lan Xang. August

With Braydon as he tried black grouper!

With Scott at Salty Papa's Shrimp

Seeing Hamilton with Pam--May

Feeling Hopeful

In early August Jim was moved to a rehab facility, where we believed he would build up strength to come home. There were many setbacks right from the start. But on the day this picture was taken, there was hope in the air. He had asked me to bring his razor, and he trimmed his beard. He looked so good, I took a picture.  A few months later I looked at this picture and saw the intensity of his blue eyes, and how closely he was looking at me.  A day or two later he would get COVID, and his decline would begin in earnest. I see this picture and I think of that last day I held out legitimate hope that he would come home and we'd be together again.

Highlight of the Year

Without a doubt, the day that marked one of my highest moments was the gathering on November 9th to remember Jim. After years of watching him decline, it was absolutely wonderful to hear all the memories over the last 40 years when he was young and vibrant and we interacted on a regular basis with family and friends. I had no idea this celebration of his life would lift me like it did. I have written about it previously and posted the pictures, but I am posting them again so they are part of this record. 

One of the things I will remember most about this day was when Scott said the ceremony made him realize he is more like his dad than he ever thought. 

Susan and Natalie were lighthearted in comments

Stacy provide moving memories

CLMS always shows up for me. GRATEFUL

Makes Me Smile

After Jim passed, I rejoined Iona-Hope Episcopal and made fast friends through various activities. Trish is by far one of my favorites of all my new buddies. We sat together at the Christmas dinner and she taught me how to do the Princess Diana look for the camera to eliminate a double chin. Her advice: head down, roll eyes up. Here we are doing our best Diana.

Meaningful Moment

Christmas morning I took a remembrance of Jim to Bunche Beach and left him in a meaningful place. He is now in one of his favorite places: out in the Gulf with the sky and the birds and the underwater animals. It is so much better than a graveyard!

Feeling Connected, Part Two

Jim and I ended up having several weeks apart. The entire time I was in the hospital and separated from him and just wanted to be with him to hold his hand. I kept thinking we had so little time left together, and honestly, I was afraid I'd never hold his hand again if I didn't get out of there. He was going through so much and no one was there to comfort him. It was heartbreaking for me.

When I got home, the very first thing I did was get to the rehab center, and then I just sat and held his hand. I am so grateful I had the foresight to take this photo. It means the world to me. It represents every day together, how we were always there for each other, even from afar. But, of course, this physical contact was way better. If anything represents 2024 it is this. 

Thanksgiving Gratitudes (of course!)

 I am grateful for three days spent with friends this week

And especially for the dinner I will be having today

The first holiday without Jim present.

I am grateful for you, my family and friends, who read this blog

Cheer me on

Comfort me.

I am grateful for all the medical professionals who helped us through this year

Of unprecedented hospital visits

And Hope Hospice as well.

I am grateful to everyone at Cypress Lake Middle

Always there for me.

I am grateful to my neighbors who have done so much for me.

I am grateful to those who have reached out across the miles,

Calling and writing and sending cards

Especially the SJA class of 1973.

I am grateful for my new church home

Providing the anchors I need.

I am grateful for all who helped me pull my retirement together,

Which was no small feat given my husband was dying.

I am grateful my healing from that horrible infection

Has been consistently good.

I am grateful for professional advice I’ve had to seek.

This Thanksgiving Day

Is for us all to remember

We will always make it through

Somehow, someway.

For that, I am mostly grateful.

Thanksgiving Day 2016

Thursday Thoughts

 

It has been one month since Jim made his transition. 

I could not write yesterday as I was totally numb from the election results. I had faith in the American people, so it is hard to accept so many are willing to exchange our democracy over racism and misogyny. I’m not surprised. I was just holding the highest good in my heart.

We are all a bit wiser now, knowing what we now know.

Here is some great healing news…I was able to sleep on my right side the last couple of nights  I’ve had to sleep on my back ever since the accident, but my preferred method is on my side. This has been amazing. Even more amazing is that today I will take my first shower since August 19th! My wound nurse brought waterproof bandages for me and said go for it. I was so over wiping down with cleaning cloths and washing my hair in the sink. The shower is another sign of my progress in healing, and is a game-changer. It brings back another element of normalcy I definitely can use.

I’m glad the rainy weather will be past us after today. I want nice weather for Scott’s visit and for the Saturday event, which will be emotional and wonderful. 

Everything is a step I am taking to re-form my life. I am grateful for all the love and support I have. 

Saints and Souls

Doug, Dan, and Jim  (RIP all)

Favorite picture of Jim

Today was a combination All Saints and All Souls Day at church. We were told we could bring in a photograph in a frame to display on a table during the service. We were also allowed to send in a picture digitally for a slideshow. I did both.

The picture of Jim with his brother and youngest son is from 2003 at our old apartment building. It was the perfect picture to display because sadly, all three of these men have passed within the last few years. 

The picture of Jim in the woods I send for the slideshow. It has risen to the place of honor as my favorite photo of him. When we would visit the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina, he would take his coffee in the morning and go sit in the woods. One day, I think in 1999, I decided to take my camera and go find him. The look you see is his surprise at seeing me show up in his hiding spot. I saw him before he saw me, and that is why I had my camera ready for the photo when he looked my way.

There was one prayer today during the service that was especially meaningful. I was reminder that our loved ones on the other side are never far from us. They come to us as we go to them. Its a reciprocal relationship.

*

Today I changed where I had been sitting, and chose to sit by a woman that lives in my neighborhood. After the service, I had a brownie and some iced tea and talked to some people. On my way out, a woman named Trish stopped me. She is a member of the grief group, but hadn't been there the day I went. She lost her husband a year and a half ago. We had a good conversation, and then she pulled out this book and handed it to me:

She said she was looking for someone else she was going to give it to, but that woman wasn't there. After our conversation, she knew the book was meant for me instead. I was touched by her kindness and generosity and insight. This is a book with a reading for each day of the year, so I went home and read today's passage. It quoted from Charlotte's Web. I liked that right away, because I don't always just want to be reading Bible quotes. I think I'm going to love reading this book each day, and I have another new friend. I cannot say enough how supported I feel by this church community.

I will leave you with the final words from today's passage:

We never stop loving the one who is gone, and we will help our own healing and enhance the lives of others if, in some way, we open our arms to someone in need. I know I have love to share. I will be on the lookout.

Pic Collage 1985-87

 

COMMITMENT

This is one of my favorite pictures of us. In April 1985, Jim and his boss had a business trip to Miami, and I was invited along. (So was the boss’s mistress Kim, who lived in D.C.) We stayed at Turnberry Isle resort, a place for the rich and famous. It was an extended weekend and we had a blast. While the guys were doing business, Kim and I went to the spa where Gloria Vanderbilt and her entourage happened to be. We golfed at their exclusive club. In the evenings we did things like the fancy dinners, dog races, a ride through South Beach, which was just starting to be revitalized, and a trip to Joe’s Stone Crab. This photo was taken on our last night there. We had been together three years at this point, and were fully committed to our love.

GROWTH

This photo was taken a short time before we got married on August 15, 1986. The Cuyahoga River runs through downtown Cleveland, and the area behind Jim is called The Flats. This area was just beginning to be revitalized into an entertainment location, old factories turned into bars and nightclubs and restaurants. It was a time of growth for Cleveland, and in our relationship.

FREEDOM

In July 1987, we went to Atlanta for Jim’s sister’s wedding on a Friday evening. Both she and her new husband owned boats, which were docked on Lake Lenoir. Family members were invited to use the boats the next day, where we sailed around, stopped at an island for a picnic, and in general had a blast. I felt this picture of Jim represents the free feeling of being on the water, no obligations, just having a good time.

“Some miles to go..”

There is nothing I would like better than to say that healing is coming along quite well and I’m going to be up and at ‘em and no time at all.

But nothing can be farther from the truth.

What happened with me was very serious. The open wound I have now saps a lot of my energy. I know everyone wants me to be stronger and more capable of doing things than I currently am. I can sense it in the way they ask questions. I’m not upset with anybody because I think I’d be thinking the same thing. I’d wanna know that my friend or family member was OK. 

And I am OK. But there is still a very long way to go.

There is a song that really speaks to how I feel. Mavis Staples sings it, and I posting it here and I hope you will listen. It will give you insight into how I feel. It reveals my current truth. I have also posted the lyrics below.

There's a sorrow in the wind
Blowing down the road I've been
I can hear it cry when shadows steal the sun
But I cannot look back now
I've come too far to turn around
And there's still a race ahead that I must run

I'm only halfway home
I've gotta journey on
To where I'll find, I'll find the things that I have lost
I've come a long, long road
But still have got some miles to go
I've got a wide, wide river to cross

I have stumbled, I have strayed
You can trace the tracks I made
All across the memories my heart recalls
But I'm still a refugee
won't you say a prayer for me?
'Cause sometimes even the strongest soldier falls

I'm only halfway home
I've gotta journey on
To where I'll find, find the things that I have lost
I've come a long, long road
but still I've got some miles to go
I've got a wide, wide river to cross

I'm only halfway home
I've gotta journey on
To where I'll find, find the things that I have lost
I've come a long, long road
but still I've got some miles to go
I've got a wide, wide river to cross
I've got a wide, wide river to cross
I've got a wide, wide river to cross

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Julie Miller / Steven P. Miller

Wide River to Cross lyrics © Julie's Freakin' Out Music, Songs Of Nwimp, New West Independent Music Publishing, My Blind Driver Music

The Middle of Ireland

My cousin Doreen and her husband are traveling around Ireland this month. She sent me these photos with this notation:

We are in the middle of Ireland, and visited Birr Castle today.  This is Saint Brendan’s well on the castle grounds.
It dates back to the 6th century.  I made a wish and said a prayer for you and Jim.

There is something very sweet and touching in knowing that in another part of the world, deep in the green earth, lie good wishes and prayers for Jim and I. Somehow, looking at these pictures, I feel like I have been to this place. I don’t know how or why. 

I find it soothing.

 

Hospital Day 10

 I am going crazy here without my journal.  I had considered having my neighbor bring it in, but didn’t feel like there was anywhere good to keep it. I had her bring me pads of papers and pens, but have yet to try them. Since she did bring my iPad, I thought I’d come straight here.

The point here is not to rehash everything. All of this is beyond my mind to even comprehend. I am forced into the moment because these previous days have been tough, and the future is terrifying in so many ways, I dare not go there.

Jim and I feel like we are hanging on by a string together. I told him last night I just know we will have a chance to hold each others’ hands again. Could God have brought us all this way together just to drop us in a lonely sea? I think not.

A chaplain who saw Jim came to see me. He didn’t have much to say, but he did recite my favorite quote:

All will be well

And all will be well

In all manner of things will be well

I colored these bright flowers today. Sunflowers have been a guiding light to me for many years. They remind me that joy is always at hand. That when we are together we are more powerful. That we can stand tall and strong. And turning our face to the sun, our beautiful source, is a necessary spiritual ritual every day.

The Love Remains

 My brother Matt is the caretaker of the big box of photos from my mom’s house.

He occasionally pulls our photos we have forgotten about.

On my birthday this year, this is the one he posted.

It was my 19th birthday in 1974.

I was working at a fast food restaurant and getting ready to go to computer school.

I’m wearing a top made for me by my friend Cathy.

It had little cartoon figures of Mickey and Minnie Mouse.

And wide leg bell bottoms, of course.

I never wore shorts.

I’m here with my brother Richie.

He would not make it to his next birthday.

By my next birthday this picture would not be possible.

I meditated on this photo this morning.

I find it curious the way I’m holding his arms.

I may have stopped him from playing to get in the picture.

I may be holding on because I know I’m losing him.

In 1974 there wasn’t much hope for those with leukemia.

Summer days and birthdays are universal

As is loss.

Health issues can devastate and change.

Thank goodness the love remains.

For the Love of Rock Shrimp (and Doug)

 Today this photo came up in FB memories:

This was taken at Dixie Crossroads in Titusville by Jim’s brother Doug. We had traveled there for a little getaway, to see Doug, and go to the Kennedy Space Center on this date in 2016.

I first fell in love with rock shrimp in 1986. We had traveled to Florida from Ohio for Thanksgiving weekend with Jim’s family. One night, we all drove to Titusville just to go to Dixie Crossroads. Some kind of family tradition.

The last time I ate at the restaurant was when we visited Doug during Thanksgiving week of 2021. He was terminally ill with cirrhosis of the liver. We feasted at Dixie Crossroads, and Doug shared a lot of his shrimp with me. Despite his ill health, he was friendly to the wait staff and kept us all laughing. I remember that dinner better than the others because we knew it was the last time we’d spend time with him. 

He passed in January 13, 2022.

There was never a visit to Dixie Crossroads without Doug. I don’t know if I will ever return to that restaurant, but it will forever be held in my heart as a place where family love and laughter prevailed.

With Doug in Orlando, December 2014

Pool Boy

 

This is my brother-in-law Paul, who hopped in the car and drove two days to be here after my auto accident. He is currently installing two grab bars in our water closet to help keep us more secure.

Paul likes to swim in the morning, so he has been using our community pool. The first day he went, there was one other older lady up there during the time he was there.

The next day, Paul noted there were three ladies.

By yesterday, there was a cache of six to seven. Word had spread of this new, good-looking guy swimming laps in the pool. Can’t you just see the text messages flying in the hands of these ladies cell phones?

I’d love to tell these women that they’re looking at one of the funniest, hard-working, loyal, energetic, and giving individuals on the planet. I just told him I could never ever repay him for what he has done for us this week. He has made us laugh, been there every second needed, prepped food, and did housework and maintenance. All while doing his regular paid job, which included plenty of zoom meetings.

Paul is a marvel in my eyes. I will be sad when he leaves tomorrow.

But meanwhile, to the neighborhood ladies getting an eyeful…

Eat your hearts out, sisters…he belongs to us.

Well, my perfect streak ended…

 …but it wasn’t my fault! 

It’s morning. The sun is out.  I got my glasses. I got my Kind Almond Butter Granola bar. I got the most perfect coffee in the world made by my sweetheart.

I have family here providing much needed help. And I feel like I’m growing stronger quickly.

Thank you, my many hospital visitors. And sorry to those I warded off when I was having my bad hospital day. The gifts were appreciated, especially the chocolates I shared with the nurses.

Thank you to all who texted and emailed and called. Your words lifted me and I could feel the prayer wind.

Thank you, cousin Doreen in Asheville, who sent me an email on Saturday morning because I wasn’t blogging and she knew something might be wrong. 

Writers gotta write. And I have lots to write about. But not today. This is just my reentry.

What I do want to say is this: a comment was made to me that the man who smashed into me had “ruined my life.” I had not for a second felt like a victim in this scenario. I could not even relate to those words. I could never square it with all the things I have written in here that remind me of the Oneness of all things and God’s vision for me. I am already starting to see it. 

And I have no doubt all will be well.

In Dreams (for Dad’s 95th)

Today would be my dad’s 95th birthday, and coincidentally I came across some items related to him this week that were of interest…some I remembered, some I had forgotten.

I have been working through purging a lot of things, and the journals and notebooks I have stockpiled here were a good starting point. This brought me to a journal I started in 2006 I designated as a “synchronicity” journal. I believe it was a gift from my friend Pam, or perhaps just the idea was hers.

The journal begins by detailing events that seem to synchronize together, but very quickly that focus drops off. Apparently, then I started going through one of my morning journals from 1993 looking for important things to write down. That is when I came across these notations:

My dad said to me “You are a strong presence in our family.” February 1, 1993

My dad tells me that Richie, Uncle Frank, his dad, and Grandma Maslyk came to him in his dreams. February 3, 1993

 I really do not remember him telling me these things, or why he did. What were we talking about that would have prompted these statements? Were we alone, or were others present? I really don’t know.

The journal then changes directions to documenting a meditation practice I had. The two notations above are the only things worth keeping. 

Then I came across this little velvet book.

The book is small, 4” x 6” and I’m sure I used to carry it with me. (My father was also a carrier of small notebooks.) It has a lot of quotes and notations to start it off, some little drawings, and comments my friend Carol made when we’d walk in the Cuyahoga Valley. A few items do include dates, all in 1997. 

Then it shifts to 1998 with these three notes. These are already seared in my memory:

A butterfly erratically flew into me while I walked in the woods the morning of the day my father died.

“Helen, I am taking instructions from the Big Guy and His Holy Host of Angels.” (This was 2 hours before he passed on May 31, 1998)

“Will you come to the park and talk to me, that pretty little park in Lakewood.” (My father speaking to me in a vivid dream in the early hours of June 13, 1998)

I have clear memories of all three of these.They are always with me.

I’ve decided to keep the velvet book, and I have moved the quotes from the first journal into it. I want to continue to put little quotes and important things to remember in this velvet book, because a long time ago I made a good start, and now I want to keep it going. I plan on writing more on this blog about the other treasures found in the velvet book.

**

I went looking for a picture of my dad from 1993, and there were only a couple. I decided to include this one from the Christmas season with his granddaughters Emily, Kim, Cheryl, and Kate.

Happy Birthday, Dad. We love and miss you. Thanks for sending messages my way, in all the forms they take.

I go back to June 1994…

I’m reading a novel called Factory Girls that begins in June 1994 in Northern Ireland. Since the chapters are the dates of the events in the book, it caused me to think of where I was in June 1994. I realized it was our second visit to the cabin in North Carolina, the one built and owned by Jim’s Aunt Joanne and Uncle Dick. Eventually it would become a home away from home, a real sanctuary. But this was just the second visit.

At this time of year, wild rhododendrons bloom in the Blue Ridge mountains, and Roan Mountain in Tennessee is most famous for these flowering bushes. Every year on this weekend they have a festival, and this is where we went that June weekend in 1994. Roan Mountain was about 90 minutes or so from Ashe Country, so it made a nice day trip.

The walk through the woods and up the mountain was not terribly difficult, although I’m sure Joanne and Dick didn’t climb to the top as Jim and I did. At the time I had a nice Minolta camera, and tried my best to photograph the flowers, but it seemed hard to get results. I think the day had leaned toward rain and haze, so the clarity wasn’t there.

Eventually, Jim and I got to the top and I took this picture. It was the only one that had any clarity of the sky and the valley below. 

All in all, it is a pleasant memory—a day spent with people I deeply love. I became closer to Joanne and Dick as the years went on, closer than I was to any of my aunts and uncles. I bless the day they came into my life because it made it so much richer.

 http://www.roanmountain.com/rhododendron-festival/

The Way I Remember You

 Dear Wayne,

Yesterday I unexpectedly found this photo of you I did not even remember existed.

 It’s from June 1994.

You are holding Danny’s daughter Heather.

I showed your dad. He looked at you a long time, but had no words.

I am aware I have not written about you, memories and all.

Still so difficult knowing you’re gone. 

So this is a step.

For you, my son.

A Happy Birthday Party 1989

Dad wearing the shirt I bought him

Today it is 26 years since my father passed away. I decided to do something a little different to commemorate the day. I pulled out pictures from his 60th birthday party my mom organized at their house. I remember that day. The weather was perfect. A lot of family was there. My dad was having the time of his life. The photos pick up the flavor of the day. I am grateful for this memory.

Dad freshening the water so Kim could play

Emily getting ready for the water attack

She got Jim

She got me

Martin the grill master

Margie, me, mom, Jim

John & Cheryl

The cake

His new baseball mitt

Dad being dad!

 

Hard to believe it's been 26 years.

 

I miss this man with every cell of my being.