Thanksgiving Weekend

We had a great Thanksgiving. The first plan was to be at home with just the kids. One of my friends decided to delay her trip home a few days, so I invited her and her daughter to join us for dinner. Then we realized that friends visiting from Mississippi were planning on spending the day at their hotel. We insisted that they join us. I spent Thanksgiving morning preparing our home and cooking a turkey breast and a ham. We ended up with nine for dinner. I loved it. I enjoy cooking with and for others. Four of us worked on the gravy. There was plenty of food and the leftovers were abundant. The day was wonderfully stress free and felt like a true celebration of thanks. Our family tradition is to gather around the table and for each person to share that for which they are thankful. Several of us got a little teary as we looked over the blessings of the year. Life has been challenging for all of us in various ways, but we have friends, families, and a loving church that has helped sustain us through even the most difficult times.

The rest of the weekend was also good. I didn't leave my home from Wednesday night until Friday afternoon. Friday I did all those outdoor tasks that I haven't had time to get completed. Everything was mowed, raked, cleaned, and stored. Sophia worked with me and we were able to get a lot accomplished. We built a bonfire in the backyard. I had been promising her a fire for a couple of months now. Alex came by, so I broke away to make a quick run to the hospital to pick up a pager since I was scheduled to be on call chaplain for Sunday night. I returned home to work on a few indoor projects. Sophia, Judson, and I worked in our basement on Saturday. The basement was in disarray. There is still a lot to do, but I went to bed with a feeling of accomplishment. It wasn't all work. I allowed myself some time to chat with friends on facebook and play word games- my guilty pleasure.

I realized a long time ago that I am happiest when I am busy. I enjoy some down time, but I love my family, my career and my home, so I find joy in my work. Earlier today I was trying to explain to a friend why I volunteer to be on call for the hospitals. It is a matter of passion for people in crises and a sense of knowing who I am, and knowing my place in this world.

So our family has made it through another first holiday without David and without my father. It was easier than I anticipated. Today we celebrated the first Sunday of Advent. It is a season of anticipation, preparation and waiting. I have often thought of the many positive things that I have waited for in my life; graduations, babies, promotions, etc. This year as we have moved into the season of waiting I am aware of the waiting I have had over the past few years; waiting on diagnoses, test results, progression or remission. There has been the reality of waiting on death. We have waited and felt it near, only to have it move away. David's death was the culmination of a long wait for us. I have a sense of peace about David's death. It isn't what we had wanted, but we found ourselves learning how to wait for the unwanted. In the process I have learned to be more patient and watchful. I miss David, but there is relief that the wait is over.

It's Easier Than I Thought!

Sometimes we can make life harder than it needs to be. The best way to find out something is to ask. Recently I was talking to the teacher for the young adult class at church. We were planning some social activities for the class. I mentioned that I would like to have the class over to my home for dinner some time. She said she would also schedule the group for her house. Then she mentioned that one of our young adults is in a wheelchair. We discussed whether or not he would be able to be in our homes. I knew that once he was inside my house he would be fine. I had moved furniture before so David could get from room to room in a chair. I wasn't sure how he could get inside. David would use a walker to get through the door and I would lift the chair over the threshold. This would not work for our person. I decided that it couldn't work in our homes, but that we could schedule social activities at church or restaurants. A few days later, she told me that the student could get in our homes. He has portable ramps. She learned this because she asked him. How simple was that? Who would know what was possible better than the person who lives in the chair?

I had a revelation this morning when I got up early to walk Cooper the puppy. She went to the back door asking to go out. It turns out that I don't have to walk her until I am ready to do so! I have a fenced in back yard. I can let her into the back yard, where she can do her business, chase rabbits and leaves, while I go back to bed to get one last hour of sleep. Our dog Ashley had not been able to manage the steps off our deck and into the back yard her last months. I had become accustomed to taking her outside the front door and through the front yard, where she had to be on a leash. It had become such a habit that I wasn't thinking, just doing. Once Cooper asked to go out the back, I was able to see it was a better choice.

We had several invitations to spend Thanksgiving with various friends and families. I had considered driving back east to see family. I finally thought about asking the kids what they wanted for Thanksgiving. Again, it is so much easier than guessing! They prefer staying home over joining someone's celebration. When I asked what they wanted to eat I expected a request for pizza or Asian food. They want me to prepare a traditional Thanksgiving meal- even the vegetarian who won't eat turkey. They want us to spend this Thanksgiving the same way we have spent most of the Thanksgivings they remember. That is fine with me. Alex will come over and spend part of the day with us. I am anticipating a good day, although I am sure it will be bittersweet without David.

Are You Crazy... or Am I?

From time to time we have to ask ourselves some hard pointed questions. This is what emotionally healthy adults do, so they can make sure they remain emotionally healthy. This is what I did this morning as I walked two dogs while I was in my pajamas and overcoat during the six o'clock hour on a cold Saturday morning. Normally Carmen is the last one to get up in the morning. However, Cooper the new pup is an early riser. She has no interest in letting any other dogs or humans sleep. I have no interest in cleaning floors, so I slipped on shoes and headed out for a very short walk around the outside perimeter of our yard. We are on a corner lot, so it is large enough for a dog to do what it needs to do and small enough for me to feel that I probably won't be seen by anyone on an early Saturday morning.

So having spent the past few years caring for a sick husband and a sickly dog, why would I take in a puppy? Life was just starting to get manageable. I was starting to remember things and have a little free time. Puppies need a lot of time and attention. Have I become accustomed (dare I say addicted) to stress and chaos? Am I uncomfortable unless my life has its challenges? Or as a several of my friends put it, "Another dog! Are you crazy?"

It isn't uncommon when a person has lived with a lot of ongoing stress to unconsciously create new stressful situations. Some need the stress for its motivational benefits. Some develop a different sense of normal. It is why some people go from one abusive relationship to another. It is familiar and comfortable. Some like the chemicals that our body produces under stress. I was an adrenaline junkie myself when I worked at the psych hospital. There was always some type of drama or emergency happening. It is amazing how clearly I could think when a kid had a chair they were getting ready to throw at me. Once I became a parent I found that adrenaline rush distasteful. It was more disturbing than exciting.

I've decided that taking the puppy into our home is a good decision. She is smart and well behaved. She is quickly learning basic commands. She and Carmen get along well and entertain each other. I can leave them in the morning and not feel like I am abandoning them until I get home in the evening. It is a little stressful right now, but with time caring for her will become easier. For every friend that has questioned my sanity another has told me it is a great idea to get a friend for Carmen.

With the exception of one pup I've always gotten adult dogs that needed new homes. I got the one pup, Tchaikovsky,(yes, I was a music geek) the summer before I started college. She was also a black lab. Looking back, I can't believe how selfish I was to get a puppy right before leaving for school! I hope my parents and younger sister wanted the dog as much as I did. So I've taken Cooper without much puppy experience. It isn't as bad as I anticipated. Either puppies are not as difficult as I have been told or she is a very good dog.

So I made it through one question and answer session with myself and decided that I am not crazy. That is unless you consider interviewing one's self to be crazy!

The Best Laid Plans

This has been one of those days where nothing has gone as I had planned. I am a planner. Life has taught me to be flexible, but I like at least an outline of my day. Today I had a full schedule, with no room for flexibility. But as it often is in life, flexibility happened.

It began with not being able to find my phone the night before. My phone is also my alarm clock. Thankfully I have at least one clock in every room, so I took the alarm from my bathroom and set it. When the alarm sounded this morning, I added five minutes to give me a chance to truly awaken before I got out of bed. Instead I fell back to sleep for about twenty minutes. The alarm never sounded the second time. I managed to get everyone to school and the bus stop on time, but it seemed the remainder of my day was an hour behind. I found my phone on the way to the office (under my car seat- don't ask) when I heard it ringing. There were several calls to return. Once at the office I realized I had forgotten something and had to go back. Several other little things threw the day in a different direction.

The preschool director came by and told me about a stray dog she had found near Cooper's Landing on her way home. Soon I was greeting an underweight lab pup. Those of you who know me well already know the rest of the story. We have named her Cooper, after where she was found and one of my favorite places to chill (live music, bike trail, Missouri River, best Thai food anywhere, and always several interesting characters). She looks like Carmen, except she is about one third of her size and she has a very small tuft of white fur on her chest. Carmen seemed to like her, but Cooper was frightened of Carmen. We let them meet in a large neutral field where we could all run and chase. I will take her to the vet tomorrow to make sure she isn't microchipped. If no one claims her then she will be spayed and have a home.

I didn't visit my friend who fell on her face (she is doing better). I didn't meet with my workout partners. I didn't get to the nursing home (I have to do that tomorrow). I didn't finish marking the script for the Christmas drama. I accomplished very little at home that was on my list. But, such is life.

There was a time when I had great plans. I could easily plan out ten to twenty years of my life. I knew when I wanted to have children, when and where I wanted my house and the cities where I would live. I've had various great plans for my education and career. I never planned on divorce. It wasn't my plan to become a minister until a few years before I did. I never thought I would live in Indiana or Missouri. I certainly never planned on becoming a widow with young children. Plans are wonderful, but they are not guaranteed. There are plans and dreams that I had my heart set on, which I am now glad never came to pass. There are other plans that I can't help but wonder how life would be different if they had happened.

Since David died people will often quote something he said. The most common Davidism is "it is what it is." He said it often during his last year once he got to the place where he had accepted his life as it was. I hear it at church, my kids and extended family say it, and I often hear it from friends. There is a lot to be said for hopes and dreams, but there is also value in seeing what is real. We can't go back and change the past. We can only plan and hope for the future. It is a waste of time to fret over either. Once we see what is, then we can begin to deal with what is.

I grieve David, knowing that I loved and cared for him the best I knew how. There were some things I could have done better. There were other things I did for him that were pretty impressive. He was a great husband, but not perfect (that doesn't exist). He had regrets about the past and memories that gave him pride and pleasure. We had many things planned for our future. There are books, articles, and curriculum left unwritten. There are graduations and weddings we won't attend together. I have a house in North Carolina that we will not live in for our retirement. Some of our plans I will carry out on my own. Others I will change. Either way, it is what it is and it will be whatever it will be. As for me, I will continue to be flexible- it is better to bend than be broken.

Grief Shadowing Life

I consider myself a strong person who is not shaken by much. I have sat with many people as they were dying. I don't get squeamish with around blood and enjoy watching a good surgery on television. When there is a crises I calmly tell myself and others that we can get through whatever is ahead. I see myself as the person who strongly stands with people in crises. I put myself and my feelings aside so that I can walk with others through difficulty.

I've had three episodes recently where I found myself much more shaken than I am accustomed to feeling. Each time I learned about these incidents I felt shaky and nauseous. In the past week I've had two friends in car accidents. One fell asleep at the wheel-she is a caretaker of a sick person and is exhausted- and another was hit when a car hydroplaned into hers. Both were not injured and are doing well.

Another friend fell in her home and received a large laceration to her forehead, fractured the right orbital rim and a cervical vertebrae. I spent over seventeen hours thinking that it was my friend's mother-in-law that fell and not her-partly because of communication problems. Her husband text messaged me and their children saying that "Mom fell." I thought he was talking about his mother. Even when I talked to him by phone I still wasn't getting it. Later when I called again and asked how his mother was doing. He told me he needed to clarify something. I just couldn't wrap my brain around one of my closest friends being injured. Then I couldn't believe that I had let so much time go by without understanding what had happened.

While I would normally feel compassion and concern in these circumstances I found myself also feeling scared and anxious. I was not the voice of calmness and reason that I like to think that I am. I allowed my mind to fill with "what ifs." I couldn't remove myself. I am irritated when people take on the crises of someone else and make it their own. More than once I've told people, "This isn't about you. You need to step back until you can separate from this and be supportive." I was finding it hard to step back and separate.

I am certain that if I had not just been through the deaths of my husband and father that my reaction would not have felt so strong. I know that people can disappear from my life and that there is little I can do to slow or stop the process. I also know that with time I will not only be emotionally strong again, but stronger than I was before. There is still a shadow that hangs over me that keeps me from seeing things clearly. That shadow will eventually dissipate and I will see clearly again.

I've had other experiences that I've handled well. I felt good about going to the funeral with Sophia. (see post for 11-16-08) Recently, a woman told me she was dying soon and that she wanted me to do her funeral. I was my usual self as we talked about her concerns, hopes, and fears for the near future. I was doing what I loved to do, walking with a person through a difficult place in their life, and my own grief was not getting in the way. I was able to focus all my thoughts and energy on the people who needed it at that time. However, I didn't have a close relationship with either of these people.

I fear losing people close to me. I also worry that I can be too clingy or needy with my friends. I find myself waiting for them to call first, when I never thought about it before. These feelings are a natural part of the grief process and with time I am sure that my confidence will return. Until then, I will try to learn to enjoy the knowledge of just how precious each friend and each life really is.

Children Death, and Funerals

This week we learned that the father of one of the children who attends group with Judson and Sophia died. The child started the group prior to his father's death. I told Judson and Sophia and they both wanted to do something to help their peer. Since Sophia did not have school on Friday she decided she wanted to go to the funeral. Judson had school, so he decided that he would write a letter. Both seemed to deal well with the news of a peer's father's death. However, on that night I had the unusual treat of two children (and a dog) sleep in my bed. Both children had trouble falling asleep and came into my room and asked to sleep with me. While they never forget that their father has died, sometimes it feels fresher.

So why would I take my ten year old daughter to a funeral an hour away from our home, for a child she has only attended group with twice? Because she wanted to go and it was the right thing to do. It reminds our family that we are not the only ones who have lost a father to cancer. It reminds the other child that he isn't alone and that people care about him.

Many parents try to protect their children from funerals and death. I strongly discourage this. Children are stronger than we give them credit. Yet once we have taught them that something is too hard for them they often learn to believe it.

I've known too many adults that have a difficult time attending funerals. Some continue to avoid going, missing a chance to deal with their own grief and to support others. For some the first funeral they ever attended was the funeral of a close family or close friend. They had to deal with a major loss in their life while dealing with the anxiety of attending a first funeral. We need ceremonies and rituals to help us make sense of life (or death) and to provide opportunity for grieving, celebration, and closure. Children need this opportunity as well.

I grew up in a family where children went to the funeral home and funerals. I don't remember my first funeral. I do remember being concerned when a great aunt had died and I didn't have a black dress to wear. My mother reassured me that I wasn't being disrespectful by wearing a navy blue dotted swiss dress.

I am grateful that the first funeral my children attended was not their father's funeral. As children of two pastors they have probably seen more dead bodies and attended more funerals that most children. We always made sure that when possible they went to the visitation for any church member that they knew. It has not scarred them, but helped them to become the compassionate people that they are today. It has prepared them for the crises that David and I never dreamed when we agreed years ago that we would not try to shield them from death.

Alex hasn't always be the child of a pastor. He was four when the father of one of his preschool friends committed suicide. We lived in the same apartment complex, so the two children played on our playground together and in each others home. There was no way that we could avoid the reality of the situation. I didn't give him the motivation of death, but told him that C.'s Daddy took too much medicine and it caused his body to stop working. I explained we needed to go to the funeral home and be a good friend by letting C. know that we felt sad with her. He wanted to see C. but told me he didn't want to see her daddy's skeleton. I told him that C's daddy still had skin and muscles but would look like he was asleep. I also assured him that he only had to see C and not her father. I took my young son into the funeral home with a few adults giving me a questioning look. C. ran up and hugged him and faces softened. They realized she needed her friends as much as her mother needed hers. C. immediately said, "Wanna see my Daddy?" Alex said yes and they walked to the casket holding hands. Later Alex's only concern was that the body was wearing eye glasses. People don't sleep with glasses and dead people definitely don't need glasses.

By the time we moved to Columbia Alex had attended funerals for many people. When I told him that an older man in our neighborhood, who he visited with from time to time probably had less than 24 hours he immediately ran over to his house so he could say good-bye. He had no fear of finding him dead. There was no fear of being close to death. He wanted to tell this friend, who so generously shared his life stories with a young teenager good-bye.

I was touched by the many people who came to our home to tell David good-bye. I was most impressed by the many children and teenagers who came to tell a dying man thank you and good-bye. Their presence helped my children and me. Many told me later that it helped them to see David right before he died.

Many children came to David's visitation. One child that came to visitation didn't want to see David, but wanted to see Sophia and Judson. She started out by staying outside the sanctuary. Soon she came in, but watched from a distance. Before long she came up and gave me a hug. Later she came back to look several times. Finally she asked her mom if she could touch David. Her mother wisely let the child move at her own pace. We stood with her and I talked about how he felt a little cold, but she could touch him. Her mom explained that his body was like an empty shopping bag. It carried the good stuff, but it was just the bag and you don't keep the bag.

Our children stayed very close during David's last days. All three got to spend alone time with him and move in and out of our bedroom as they wanted. They were encouraged to talk to him, sing to him, or just be quiet with him. While he was conscious they helped put a straw in his mouth so he could have water. Later when he wasn't responding much they were offered a damp washcloth to wipe his face and hands. Having a task to do helps children and adults feel better.

Sophia was asleep on my bed when David died around 2:00am. Our nephews carried her to her room because I didn't want her to awaken to find her father dead. I called Alex and told him. Once he got home we went upstairs to awaken Judson and Sophia. Again I let the children move in and out of the bedroom as they felt comfortable. Two loving aunts and cousins helped them to be comfortable and respected their comfort zone. I waited a short while before calling our hospice nurse so that our family could be alone. There was no reason to hurry. I called our friends Carol and Ben who came to be with us, then called the nurse on call. She waited until we were ready to call the funeral home. When they arrived we stood together and watched them carry David from our home. We followed them out into the night as though we were already in a funeral procession. We stood outside until they drove out of sight. It was a beautiful night with more stars than I had ever seen in our Columbia sky. I asked the nurse when would she contact David's doctor. She told me she would wait until morning. I asked her to allow me to call him and his nurse before she did. We had worked as a team and it didn't seem right for someone else to notify them. Later that day when it was time to notify friends and family Sophia wanted to be a part of making those phone calls. Knowing my own need to make specific calls I understood her need to do the same. I gave her a phone so that she could call her list of friends. They gathered items together that they thought would represent their daddy to make a memory table. Again, having a task to do helps adults and children feel better.

Death is the one thing that none of us can avoid. People around us die and eventually we die. We need to teach our children that this is a natural process, not to be feared and that they are capable of participating in the rituals we have.

One of the research projects I had started before David had cancer was about children and how they handle death. I hope that at some point I will be able to pick up the project again. I think we can learn a lot from children.

Three month assessment

David died three months ago. I have been able to create the appearance of normalcy. Our house is looking normal. Furniture that had been put in the basement so that a wheelchair could get through the house is back in place. There are no visible signs of the sickness that had lingered in our home for so long. I am starting to feel like I look normal. People who did not know me before David's illness are expressing concern about me losing weight, not realizing that I still have several pounds to lose before I reach my normal weight. I am able to keep a pleasant expression on my face most of the time. I carry on conversations without swallowing tears, or overcompensating by laughing too loudly. The kids look normal. They are doing well in school and participating in their usual activities. We know we are not at true normalcy yet. We know that it is still early, but it is good to be able to play the role. It is nice when people see us, it doesn't feel like their foremost thought is that we have recently been touched by death. While it is real, it is an exhausting way to live. We believe in living life honestly, but we also need a break, even if we are just pretending. The truth for all of us is that we are often just going through the motions of life. Even so, it is good to be able to go through the motions.

Judson is turning twelve. He has decided he wants to keep his birthday low key and I am respecting that wish. He gets to chose a restaurant for dinner. He never wants birthday cake, so I will prepare his traditional birthday pumpkin pie with candles.

We are talking about traveling somewhere warm after Christmas. Once we have made it to the 26th of December (David's birthday), then I suspect we will need a chance to veg out for a few days. My mother will be with my sister in Orlando, so we've talked about driving down to spend time with them. We've also talked about going somewhere where we don't know anyone. After all, if we are with family we will probably be painfully aware of David and my father not being there. I am really getting into this idea of pretending like everything is okay. Grief is exhausting. It feels selfish to think about doing something so self centered. Perhaps we will stay in Columbia, play computer games and playstation, watch movies and have pizza delivered every day. As I prepare for Thanksgiving, Advent and Christmas, it is nice to also focus on what we will do when we get past the holidays. The act of planning implies that we will get through the next few months.

Post Election Day

Our family made it through election day. For many grieving people this may not be a difficult time, but David was an avid follower of politics. Two years ago I took him to vote while he was wheelchair bound. During that time in his life he was often sleepy and a bit out of it, but he was very adament about voting. It wasn't a presidential election year, but it didn't matter. He saw voting as both a privilege and a responsibility. He knew then that he would probably not get the opportunity for another presidental election.

Alex, and our friends Mary and Zach came over to watch the returns with us. Zach is between Judson and Sophia in age and is just as interested in politics as they are. When the winner was announced I remained cynical. I remember once before going to bed after learning one candidate was announced as a winner and awakening with a different candidate as president elect. When McCain graciously gave his concession speech I could finally believe that it was over and the tears flowed. You can imagine that they were tears of joy or concern in whatever way makes you happy. Tears were also there because I wanted to share that time with David.

As the children were getting ready for bed I realized Sophia had a fever. She had caught the cold that I 've had for the past week. She ended up missing three days of school. That gave me opportunity to deal with the reality most single parents have-childcare for a sick child when you need to work. Thankfully, I am able to do a lot of my work from almost anywhere. I didn't have to cancel many appointments.