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. 

What a Busy Week

It’s late Friday afternoon, and I’m just getting to this blog. It’s been quite a week, but I seem to be coming to the end of the long road of financial and legal matters. I’ve had several ideas on where to take this, but will keep it short and sweet.

I picked up Jim’s touchstone today.

This is a flat stone in a display I can take out and hold in my hand. It contains some of his ashes.

When I die, there will be one made in purple for me. Well, not for me…I guess for whoever wants it. It’s already paid for.

Which, by the way, I highly recommend making your arrangements and getting them paid for in advance. It saved me a lot of angst and trouble when Jim passed. I was able to pull out a card with his account number and phone number to call. Quick and easy. I have a friend whose husband died in June and she said going to the funeral home to make the arrangements was the worst. It was traumatizing to her.

Here is where the stone will sit when not in my hand. 

Now I’m working on building in a lot of “me” time as Thanksgiving week approaches. I am grateful my friend Pam has invited me to share dinner at Lexington Country Club on Thursday. My friend Iris will be in Siesta Key, so we will meet in Punta Gorda for lunch on Tuesday. Otherwise, I have books to read and shows to watch and I really need to get a walk in at Lakes Park during this cooler weather. I am doing my best to take small steps forward and enjoy life just as it is. 

Thank you, friends, for listening and sharing your thoughts. It motivates me to keep expressing here, which I truly believe is something I need.

Another Sunrise

Yesterday I faced some real truth

That I may not be able to stay in this home indefinitely

It is too costly and I will need to let it go

Sooner than I anticipated.

When I woke today I heard you say

It will be all right, It will be all right, It will be all right.

I got up, wrapped myself in your suede jacket

Sat on the lanai on this cool morning

And watched the peach sunrise

Rejoicing in the love we shared

As I watched the light change in the sky

And on the water

And I knew for certain

It will be all right.

Look at You

 

Look at you

 in Canyon De Chelly, 1986

You liked that tree

And asked me to take this picture

It was a trip of discovery 

We went with an idea in mind

Of the places we would visit

And it became so much more

This canyon and Walnut Creek Canyon

And Oak Creek Canyon

And even Sedona, which wasn’t a “thing” at the time

This was a reverse honeymoon

As we didn’t have plans to marry

But then we did four months later

After Scott barely survived a motorcycle accident

Everything about life takes twists and turns

Accidents and recommendations 

Then encountering a tree

And photographing the moment.

Great Memories and Smiling Faces

I have not been able to stop reflecting on how great the day went when we honored Jim. I knew right away something had shifted, although I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

But now I think I know. After Jim passed, I kept having these flashbacks of him in the hospital, and how miserable he was, and how he slowly was getting sicker and sicker. I didn’t want to think about those things, and I tried to replace it with other memories, but it never seemed like I could do enough. 

Once I spent time in a room with so many great people, and we read through the tributes sent to us by people who had known him for over 40 years, I finally got steeped back into who he really was, and all the things that he had done for other people. It made it really real. The family picnics. The way he helped people in large and small ways. And the dynamite grilled cheese sandwich he could make! His easy going personality, his patience with and love of children, and just the many dimensions our prism of life together took.

November 9th is a day I will never forget because of the great memories shared in front of a sea of smiling faces of some of the best people I know.

(The pictures below were taken by these attendees by request. I did not get pictures of everyone.)

With Susan and Natalie from Lehigh days

Stacy…friends since 1993

Katie, Honey, Wendy, me, Debbie, Angela from CLMS

Keep Me In Your Heart

I was listening to the new Willie Nelson album today. It’s called Last Leaf on the Tree, and contains the usual Willie offering of covers and originals.

Today his cover of Warren Zevon’s song “Keep Me In Your Heart” caught my attention. As a big Zevon fan, I know that Warren wrote this for his wife when he was dying of a brain tumor. 

Today as I listened to the lyrics in a new way, I felt like these words were much of what Jim would have said when he was in the same position. As he was slowing transitioning over many days, I wondered what he was thinking, or if he was thinking. He had very little energy for talking.

So I take this song now as another message to me—and actually, a joyful one. It makes me feel good to hear it because I’m taking them as Jim’s words to me—words he was unable to give. I am adding to my playlist.

Give a listen to “Keep Me In Your Heart.”

Where You Are

 

Yesterday we had a celebration of Jim’s life, and I could not be happier with how things went. The turnout was great, and it was wonderful to have my incredible support system all together in one room.

In the morning I was working on finalizing the slideshow I planned to use. Family members and friends from out of state had sent their memories, and I had them on the slides ready to share. I had my teacher friends each assigned to read one of them, and it worked beautifully.

Anyway, while working on it and listening to a station on Apple Music, a song sung by Josh Grobin came on: “Where You Are.”  The lyrics hit me so hard I began to cry. And in that moment, I felt Jim behind me and he wrapped his arms around me, much like the photo above. It was such a calming presence, I stopped sobbing. I knew he was there more intensely than anytime since he’s passed. I realized later I had heard the song before, it’s been around for a while. But yesterday it was brand new and played just so I could connect with Jim in a profound way.

I told my friend Kara about it, and she insisted Jim sent me the song. I tend to agree with her. Because now when I listen (and cry) I immediately feel his arms around me. It is a beautiful gift I will cherish for a long time to come.

I came upon this picture….

 

I came upon this picture

From the East Coast of Florida, 1991

I didn’t make note of which beach this actually is

Maybe Melbourne?

I loved seeing this, you in your bright white and blue

You were fully healthy and strong

We loved getting away from Ohio, seeing your family in Florida

Visiting the different areas, always something new to discover.

We had a good life together, you and me.

Pic Collage 1991-93

 

JOY

Nine times we visited Cancun, Mexico and our vacation was never complete unless we visited Chemuyil, a lovely little beach off the beaten path. We were first directed there as a place to do some great snorkeling, and it was for a while. Eventually we witnessed the reefs dying from the suntan lotion, but the beauty of the beach and its smattering of palm trees never changed. One time when we were there, a boy band from England was shooting a music video. The beach had a bar and little huts where they would serve you fresh caught fish, cooked up with homemade tortillas, beans, rice, a steamed jicama. I know that since the days we were there, that part of the Yucatán Peninsula has built up into a huge tourist attraction called Rivera Maya. But we remember when it was jungle, and we would drive for 90 minutes just to relax on the most beautiful beach in the world,

ACHIEVEMENT

I wrote about this Mexican adventure a few years ago. I am pictured here on the steps of the El Castillo in the ancient city of Chichen Itza. When we first went there as part of a tour in 1987, I was afraid to climb the very steep steps. But in 1992 I changed my tune. I wanted the challenge of overcoming the fear. We rented a car and drove for hours to get there and it was worth it. Mission accomplished!

COURAGE

Before this year, 1993 was the year of our greatest challenges. In June of that year, some discs blew out in Jim’s lower back, and he had surgery to fuse them. Sadly, the fusion didn’t take, and he spent the rest of his life with a crack in his back which disabled him from working, golfing, and many other things. This was a huge adjustment for me, not to mention the financial strain we were under, given that he made a decent income and we had a brand new house. That summer, his aunt and uncle completed the cabin they were building on the New River in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and in the fall Jim’s doctor said he could make the trip there. It was our first visit, and we fell in love with the place. It became our home away from home for many years to come. I use the word Courage here, but what I really was building was Spiritual Courage. Earlier this year when faced with Jim’s terminal illness, I thought a lot about 1993 and all we went through, and it helped me know we could get through this year, no matter what. Jim took this photo of me standing on a petrified log in the river. It wasn’t until doing this blog that I can see how this photo mirrors the one that he took of me at Coe Lake eleven years earlier, the photo that began this series. In that picture, I was starting a new direction. In the picture above, it was the same.

And now I find myself once again gathering my courage to move forward into a new life. I know even though he is not here physically, Jim is here in spirit helping me find joy, achieve new goals, and continue to build spiritual courage. It has always worked in the past. I see no reason that would change now. 🌻

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.

Welcome Back

 

I had a lot of pent-up nervous energy this morning

And the temperature outside was a beautiful 73°

So I thought it was a perfect time to go out and walk in the park

Which I haven’t done since last spring

So I drove down to Waka-hatchee, which is the closest park to me

There was barely anybody there

I felt the park welcoming me back

I took a stroll around the lake

Took this picture of the sun shining through the Spanish moss

Saw a big old gator

My nervous energy had come from a week with a lot of emotional happenings

Yesterday was a case in point

I went to the funeral home to get the death certificates

And I asked about Jim’s ashes

They were ready for me, so I got them

But I was not prepared for what was going to occur

I burst out crying right there

Seeing the last physical manifestation of my husband

Was a bit overwhelming

I didn’t expect that to happen at all

I managed to get a grip and do the other things I had to do

Which included stopping in the HR department at the School District

Yesterday being my first official day of retirement

When I pulled my car into the garage

I told Jim “You’re finally home”

Then I cried and cried and cried

It’s been nearly 17 weeks since he left here

I had no idea his ashes would feel this important to me

I’ve ordered rosewood box to keep them in

I always thought maybe I’d scatter them 

but now I know I won’t

They belong here

Welcome home, my Love

Pic Collage 1988-90

 

DEDICATION

We loved visiting the Southwest, and enjoyed this trip to Arizona. At the time I owned a Money Mailer franchise, and their 1988 annual conference was there. We took a harrowing Jeep ride into the desert with a guy named Charlie, and had an incredible hayride under the vast desert starry sky.

FRIENDSHIP

One of the best things about being friends is that we like many of the same things. In December 1989 Money Mailer had their conference on Marco Island, back when it was a bit wild and wooly. During this trip we also visited the Everglades and then on to Orlando to see family. We had to visit our favorite park as well— Epcot Center. It was this trip that helped me learn I liked the southwest part of Florida best, compared to the other places we’d been. Later, it would help us make the decision to come to Fort Myers.

UNCONDITIONAL LOVE

Christmas morning 1990 with our Black Lab, B.J. I’m going to share here what I wrote to Jim on the frame:

“Traditions aren’t supposed to come and go…but unfortunately this one did. Every Christmas we have a picture of B.J. opening his dog biscuits. Remember how they would be wrapped under the tree and he’d go by and sniff them, but never open them? This was the last Christmas in our old home, and our last Christmas with the Beej. Boy, do I miss him still”

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.

Pic Collage 1982-84

I originally planned to do this series of posts last spring. After realizing I need to focus back to the happy times, and put aside the sad memories of this year, I decided to move forward on this idea.

The year 1993 was a life-changer for Jim and me. That June, a disc in his back blew out and he had to have surgery. This created a precarious situation. We had just built a new house two years prior, and we relied heavily on his income. He ended up on disability, and many things about our lives were forced to change.

This year reminded me a bit of 1993. I had to pull myself together in ways I never had to before. I had to live with underlying fear of where things were heading.

That Christmas we did not have the funds we typically had to spoil each other. I decided to go meaningful, and created a picture collage of photos I felt represented our years together to date. On the back I assigned a word that applied to each picture, and a little note on why.

Today I share the first three years. In subsequent posts I will share the rest.

CONFIDENCE

Jim took this photo of me standing on a large rock by Coe Lake which was behind my studio apartment. It was a beautiful autumn day in 1982, and I was feeling deeply confident about my life and direction. I note that confidence came from what Jim did for me when he came into my life. It’s amazing how we can get beaten down by others and not even know it until someone comes along and does the opposite.

HAPPINESS

This photo was taken by his sister Diane on my 28th birthday in 1983. Our first year together was full of all the happiness I could possibly imagine. We were making plans and setting a direction together. It was wonderful to have a partner like Jim. 

FUN

I have already written about the summer of 1984 on this blog on June 7. This was the first year of my life I felt good enough about myself and my body to wear a bikini! We had lots of weekend parties, and I learned to golf. I was succeeding at my job. It remains in my mind a very positive and exciting time.

Friday Afternoon Think Aloud

This week, my spirits have been very good. It isn’t that I haven’t cried – – I’ve done plenty of that.

I’m sleeping well, taking care of myself, eating well, healing well, reading a lot, and getting a ton of things done.

When things go awry, I’m finding I don’t get stressed and anxious like I did even just a couple weeks ago. I don’t overblow things in my head like I think I have for a long time. I have a renewed sense of “everything will work out.”

The images of Jim being ill seem to be minimizing. In retrospect, it has become clear to me that ever since his stroke in 2020 it was a long downhill slide that just got worse and worse. This was confirmed to me when I went through this giant stack of papers he had on his side of the bedroom. As I went back through the stack, I saw that the oldest ones were from 2020. That stroke probably did more damage than we realized.

So this afternoon, I started thinking about what the difference is now. Sometimes I wonder why I’m not feeling worse. I’m in grief. I have a million things to do, tons of stuff to figure out, and things I’ve taken on that I need to follow through on. Why am I not as stressed as I have been for so long?

And then I realized something very important. The major difference between now and before Jim made his transition is that I had to keep seeing him getting worse, in pain, uncomfortable.. I can see now what a huge stress that was on me. There was a lot of fear associated with it that never went away. And as things kept sliding downhill, and then I got ill, damn, it was just so much.

The other night I watched the Townhall CNN did with Kamala Harris. And there was a part late in the session where she was asked about her proposal to have Medicare pay for Home Healthcare (something I know is needed—it’s a huge issue). She talked poignantly about how when someone you love is sick and they pass away, you want to remember them when they were vibrant and alive, and not like they were at the end. 

It hit me in that moment how much I kept thinking about Jim the way he was these past few months. This last year, really. This was not pleasant, and the images kept popping up and making me sad. Understanding this has helped a lot. So now I’m doing my best just to remember him before the 2020s. It feels so long ago because, well, it was!

I feel I’m doing all the right things, and I believe everything will get done in time. As Annmarie pointed out to me recently, that’s all I can do. The next right thing.

Singing with the Elvis mic at Sun Studios 2014

This Part of the Journey (and Journal) is Done

Today I wrote the final pages of a journal I started June 12th.

This represents the toughest part of my entire life to date. I can’t imagine things will ever be this challenging again, but I’m not tempting the universe to prove me wrong. Really.

Here are some of the final words I wrote:

I’m glad many things are getting settled. Im glad Jim is not struggling and suffering anymore. I’m glad I 100% supported him and have no regrets at all.

I was with him every step of the way.

And now it’s a new life. So far, so good.

Jim—I love you forever and ever

And you will always be with me.

Then I put on “Helen Sadler’s Station” on my Apple Music and the first song that came up was Rodney Crowell’s “Making Memories of Us.”

I cried and cried…a pure combination of sadness at the loss and the happiness of the memories.

Tomorrow begins a new journey to record. 🌻

(Keith Urban’s live version of the song is perfect!)

Brighter and Lighter

 Journal entry

I saw this meme from Adam Grant and I realize that’s exactly where I am.

 I've worked really hard to stay in the present moment because it was too difficult to envision a bright future knowing Jim was terminally ill. Which reminds me of what I heard earlier this year – – that all love affairs come to a bad end. The couple either breaks up or one of them dies. 

Now that I know Jim is out of pain, I can look to the future in a new way. I will keep working on my healing, make new connections, do some things I have not been able to do.

I’m not a caretaker anymore. Wow – – first time I’ve said those words.

I have a gazillion things ahead of me to do, and it will take a long time.

I still have burdens – – but I know they will lighten.

I take everything Jim gave me and carry it into a brighter future.

2024 has been beyond challenging. Yet, I saw such goodness and generosity and care coming our way every day. We were given exactly what we needed in each moment, even those weeks we were separated. The world is full of amazing human beings, who are capable of caring, listening, reaching out, going the extra mile for us. It’s really astounding to look back and realize all those wonderful people who helped us. I’m talking about nurses and hospital staff and chaplains and social workers and hospice. 

I enter this phase with new vision and understanding. I carry with me the inspiration of all those people who helped us. I want to be one of those people for others.

I will find my place. And it will be exactly where I need to be.

Signs of a Life

 I didn’t even notice them anymore, the things Jim always had in certain places. Over these past months, they were just part of the landscape of my home.

Then yesterday, these items jumped out. After years and years of them being staged in the same place, it felt weird to suddenly “notice them.” 

I realize that there are many things I can dispose of—like his large supply of prescription drugs. Adios!

But these items are going to remain where they are. They were his daily items, the mark of his life, and I’m not willing to let go yet.

His coffee mug next to the brewer

His pill cases in his sink

His slippers at the foot of our bed

Escaping Tunnel Vision

 

In June, I began reading the book pictured above that was on the New York Times Bestseller list, with the idea that there would things to implement in my classroom. Needless to say, my life got interrupted and I only recently got back to it. I decided to keep reading it for my own sake, rather than my students’, and I’m glad I did.

In his book, Grant takes us through all the ways we think in shallow ways, or make arguments that don’t work, or lean toward our own biases. He talks about concepts like challenge teams and motivational interviewing, which caught my attention. His approach is easy to follow, with great examples, and lots of graphics.

I picked up the book once I got home from the hospital, and eventually I was taking it to read when I visited Jim since he was mostly sleeping. The text energized me and made me think in new ways.  I credit it with helping me through the difficult decisions I had to make regarding Jim’s care. It has caused me to turn to people to help me think things through, something I don’t think I typically did enough, unless it was with Jim.

The other night I woke to go to the bathroom, and found I was having a hard time getting back to sleep. I decided to finish the last 20 pages of the book. One of the chapters was called “Escaping Tunnel Vision.” There were two quotes that I ended up marking.

I realized that for years, I have been living a kind of tunnel vision, and for a very good reason. My husband was ill, and in a very slow decline, and it was demanding more of me — more of my time, energy, worry, and anxiety. I had gotten to the point I thought I would never want to travel again, that doing something just for fun seemed long ago and far away. I think this was preying on my mind more than I knew. I just thought it was where I was in life — but now I see it was the situation, not necessarily who I had become.

The tunnel vision was necessary, don’t get me wrong. I had to put first things first, and I will never regret I did. And now I am thankful I had this book in hand to help me see my way out.

Reading the last few chapters was exhilarating. Here were two important quotes to me:

At work and in life, the best we can do is plan for what we want to learn and contribute over the next year or two, and stay open to what might come next. 

Our identities are open systems, and so are our lives.. We don’t have to stay tethered to old images of where we go or who we want to be. The simplest way to start rethinking our options is to question what we do daily.

I believe Adam Grant has provided a blueprint for me as I forge a new life without my husband and enter retirement. A lot of people ask if I will sub, and my immediate response is NO. It feels like “been there, done that.”

I have felt for a long time, and REALLY feel now, that there is something else waiting for me. Something that will be fulfilling in a new way. I have no idea what it is, but since Jim’s passing and finishing this book, I feel like I have escaped the tunnel. And I don’t think this is disrespectful to Jim. If I know him — and I do — he is cheering for me from the other side.

You and Me

 

When Jim and I met, we were like two wildflowers.

Neither one of us was exactly where we wanted to be in life. We just knew we weren’t planted in the right spots.

In one of our early meetings right before we parted, Jim went to his car and pulled out a cassette tape that was called Neil Diamond’s Love Songs. He gave it to me.

I listened to that thing nearly nonstop.

It had some of my favorite songs on it: Joni Mitchell’s “Chelsea Morning.”  Leonard Cohen’s “Suzanne.” Randy Newman’s “I Think It’s Going to Rain Today.”

And the song by Neil Diamond called “Stones.”

Yesterday I moved Jim to hospice care.

Today I went onto Apple Music looking for the Love Songs album. What I discovered is it’s really just the Stones album, perhaps with the songs in a slightly different order.

So I listened to Stones wondering if it would make me fall apart.

But it was the exact opposite.

It took me back to the beginning of our relationship when I felt that he was seeing things in me that no one else had ever seen. It took me back to that time when I started to gain a lot of strength in who I was and into understanding what my life could be. It’s amazing when this happens. I don’t know if it happens with everybody this way, but it sure was a great thing for me. 

I’d listen to that tape he gave me and I think, even if this doesn’t last, even if this relationship ends, I am now somebody new and I am going to be fine no matter what happens.

(Honestly, I felt the relationship would last, but I was ready either way.)

At 26 years old, this was quite a revelation for me

Now I’m 69 years old. And I know that I was right about my relationship with Jim from day one.

I’m about to retire from a career I would’ve never had without him.

I am about to embark on a new life without him here physically. 

He will always be with me in my heart and soul.

We’ve had a great life together.

We planted and we harvested.

We were wild flowers who grew together, supported each other, and never wavered in our love.

When he leaves this physical plane, I know once again I will be fine.

The depth of what occurred over these past 40+ years will carry me forward into an unknown future.

Once again, because of Jim, I’m ready.

Jim and I  Fall 1982

I loved this video for the song because it reflects what I’ve written here.