I have made a commitment to three things: finding time for Blue Space (beach, sky), Green Space (earth, woods), and the responses I have to poets & writers. I seek to discover the art of being.
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.
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.
When we marry, we figure there will be a day our partner may be gone. Today is that day for me.
After a chaotic morning of notifying people, talking with friends, canceling appointments, and fielding other calls, I came to a place where I just had to STOP.
I decided to calm down with a coloring app. I saw this picture, and thought of it as Jim moving on to wherever he is.
But as I started coloring, I noticed there is someone else in the boat.
That’s when I knew this picture is me, moving into my future, but always with Jim beside me.
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.
Two days ago, I talked to one of the hospice services in our area. I was pretty much told that I needed to bring my husband home and figure out how to care for him.
I was an agony. I am still in recovery from a horrible infection I had, and he is totally dependent. I even talked to a private nursing company in the area, but it did nothing to assuage my fears.
I kept thinking there had to be another way. So I asked to see the other hospice company – – Hope Hospice. I had talked to them once before, so wasn’t really sure what I thought I was going to gain.
But I went with best intentions.
Before I went up to Jim’s room in the afternoon to meet with them, I did something I have not done at all in all my visits to the hospital. I stopped in the chapel.
And there on the wall was a dove. This commonly is a symbol for the Holy Spirit.
It was the Holy Spirit in 1993 that gave me a prayer that I have memorized and I say often.
And I heard that prayer again while I stood there, looking at the dove on the wall.
Do not be afraid
Do not be afraid
Everything will be all right
Did you ever think you’d be left without a way?
Do not spend one minute of worry
You will know what to do and when to do it
Do not be afraid
Everything will be all right
I went up to Jim‘s room and I talked to him. On the advice of my friend Becky, who had been through this with her parents, I told him it’s OK to go. I told him I will be all right, and it is because of all the strength he has given me. He came in my life when I needed somebody to see me for who I was, and he did that.
I asked him if he felt he was transitioning, and he nodded yes.
The nurses from hospice came in, and I told them the horror story of this year starting with the cancer diagnosis. I expressed my concerns on bringing him home, that I didn’t think that was appropriate or helpful.
And then to my complete surprise, they told me there is another way to go. There is something called General In-Patient and it would mean that Jim could do hospice right there in the hospital. Hospice would manage his comfort care. This was such a huge relief, I cannot even explain! The interesting thing is this program is only about a month old in the Lee health system. It was the answer to my prayers… My “I don’t know”prayers.
They called me later and said Jim is approved for the program. I have a few more questions to ask before I commit, and believe this is most likely the way to go. They will keep him comfortable and out of pain. He hasn’t eaten anything since before his surgery, so I’m really not sure how long he will last.
These last several months have all been about letting him go, and it’s happened gradually. I actually think that was a gift to me rather than losing him at all at once. It has helped me know I will be OK on my own.
On my way out I stopped back in the chapel and I said thank you.
I haven’t written in a couple of days because my mind is whirring. One day I think I know the direction, the next I see different possibilities. Nothing is defined and so many questions people can’t answer.
I want to do what is best for Jim, but it feels impossible to know what that is.
This just came across my FB feed and I related 100%. I’ve been doing this…and once again, I know that I will know the right decision when it is time to know. Back to that word…TRUST.
The place I am as I write this is Jim’s ICU room. I understand that he’s progressed enough he may be moved to another level.
Before writing here, I looked up the poem this quote is from. It not only assures me I’m in the right place, but that God is waiting for me…always.
I am finding that in facing my fears, I sometimes have a residual effect. For example, yesterday I took a cold, hard look at finances, and ended up having money terror dreams. Been a long time since I had that happen, and I don’t like it now.
I am reminded that grace is always within reach. I can’tbe unkind to myself through worthless worry. I need not be confused about the plan. God has it well in hand, and as I said a few weeks ago, God didn’t bring us this far to drop us into a lonely sea.
