ENJOYMENT

         I had no idea how much enjoyment writing the words, “DECEASED, Return to Sender” could bring. John and I were not on the same political page the last decade or so. How this almost hippie, believer of free love, live and let live, nonjudgmental, uncritical left-wing man could go so far to the right was absolutely amazing to me.  

          Rather than discuss politics or gun ownership, we didn’t talk about these at all. For a while, John sent me email after email from a variety of very right wing organizations. After reading a couple, I simply deleted them without reading. And, heavens, should I send him an email that disagreed with the one he sent...let me tell you I quickly learned to not do that. Some times I had to leave the room or even the house because he was so virulent about the topic under discussion. He even went so far as to sign his ballot and let me do the voting except for the presidential election because he knew I wouldn't vote for his guy.  

          Then there were the “nonprofits” to which he would send a check. Even though I went to Charity Navigator and showed him how poorly these organizations used his funds, he continued to write a check and send it off…it was HIS money. 

So, when the envelopes from the NRA, the Trump family or other such organizations  or the nonprofits he supported began to arrive, it was with great joy I wrote the italicized words above on the envelopes and took them to the post office. 

I guess one can find joy in the strangest things.

MY PERSONAL SAFETY AT HOME

         My entire life, I’ve pretty much done what I want to do without thinking of dire possibilities. Now that I’m a widow and living alone, there are things people are talking about to me, things I’ve never given a second thought even when John was in the hospital or rehab. So, now that a variety of issues have been brought up by family and friends, I’ve begun to:

• Use the deadbolts on the doors.
• Leave the porch/driveway lights on all night. So far, I’ve managed to remember to turn them off in the morning so none of the neighbors have come banging on the door or calling to see if I’m okay. That’s not to say that won’t happen at some point.
• Always take my cell phone to bed with me in case I need to call for assistance.  Kaizer and Karma wouldn’t be much help…they’ve no idea when I say, “What happened? Did little Timmy fall in the well? Do I need to go save little Timmy?” I do say that to them some times when they are bouncing around and acting up.  
• Always lock my car in the driveway. 
• My bathroom has a ceiling that goes up to the rafters and two skylights. There are currently six plants in there…three are hanging and three are on shelves. To
  
  water them, I have to climb on a ladder. I stopped climbing the ladder when home
  alone several years ago. Now, I text my neighbor and say, “I’m climbing a ladder in the bathroom. If I don’t text you again in 10 minutes, call 911.” I’ve received various suggestions about eliminating the plants, but the bathroom is so big and ugly without them I simply cannot do it yet...where would my Begonia Gigantiosia go live. I imagine at some point I’ll need to replace the living with the manufactured…just not yet. 
• The shower became a concern, (again, simply couldn’t rely on Karma and Kaizer) so I purchased a non-slip mat for inside the shower as well as a safety grab bar I can hang on to while scrubbing my legs and feet. I mean, really, I don’t want to text the neighbor every time I get in the shower. 

I'm sure that as time passes, I'll become more aware of safety issues that will need to be addressed. Fortunately I have two sons and two great daughters-in-law that are able to give me a hand as needed. Hopefully, I won't need all that  much help for many years...dare I say decades (okay, at least one decade)...to come. 

JOHN’S CELEBRATION OF LIFE

           We’ve never been a religious family so we had to think about what we wanted to do to celebrate and memorialize John’s life. He had stated (and it may even be a part of his will) that when he died, he wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread under the apple tree in our back yard. That’s where we’ve buried all our pets from the last 50 years, i.e., Fang the Wonder Dog, Tusk, Nila, BS, Dingy, Sven, Midnite, Mia, and Lucy, and he wanted to be reunited with them…as do I when my  time comes. So, John's never far away, and it's lovely to think of him and his furry and feathered loved ones cavorting beneath the apple tree when a full moon shines down upon them.                                      
          

His sons and I decided we’d have an open house. We sent out invitations via email and snail mail and asked recipients to please share with other family and friends who might like to attend. We had a plaque made for the apple tree that listed all the pets, with John’s name at the top. We hoped for good weather.

          Fortunately, the day was nice. A small table was placed under the apple tree on which John’s ashes, a spoon and a candle were placed. Attendees were invited to go to the tree and share a quiet moment or say farewell and sprinkle a spoonful of ashes beneath the tree. We had a table full of food, wine, beer, soda, water and a guest book our family, friends and neighbors could sign if they so wished. 

          For four hours we welcomed folks, shared memories of times past and remembered John as he once was, not as he had been in the last few years. There were tears, laughter, sighs, wishes made, hugs shared; and I think most people felt as though John were there with us. 

          Much later that evening, we had a two-hour thunder and lightning (over 2500 lightning strikes) storm. You have to understand that such events in this area last mere minutes, and rarely more than 30 minutes. This night the lightening brightened the sky, thunder roared both overhead and far away; and, we, the family, decided this was our patriarch letting us know what a wonderful job we’d done with his celebration, that he was happy in his new digs and that he loved us all.

            Eight layered photos taken over the course of just 20 minutes by Tim Durkan

                                                                            9/7/2019

                                                           

BAD TIMES ERASED BY MEMORIES

          My son’s wife asked me to pull photos of our life together and she and my granddaughter would make the photo collages for John’s celebration. I had organized our photographs by year fairly soon after I retired. I simply wanted to give her the boxes and let her choose, but she wanted me to pick them instead.  

          A couple of weeks after John’s death, I pulled the boxes out of the closet and prepared myself for a chore I simply didn’t want to do. Amazingly, the process of going through all the photos of our years together (and even before we met), was like applying a good antiseptic balm to a very bad burn.

          I spent an afternoon going through all those photos and the memories they brought back. It was amazing how seeing us as we were as children, young adults, a newly married couple, with each of our children and then grandchildren brought back so many wonderful memories of great times, experiences, and our deep love for each other.  

          Grief and anger may have been at the forefront of my thoughts prior to doing this, but once I was finished, I felt at peace. We had had a great life together. We had had great experiences together. We had raised two wonderful boys who became wonderful husbands and fathers. Despite all the angst, anger, frustration, and a seemingly lack of caring for each other during those last years, the truth was we did love and care for each other.  

          What a wonderful gift my daughter-in-law gave me, most likely without thinking it was a gift, but it most definitely was. And, the memory boards she made from those photos…well, they’re in the closet now and will continue to bring me comfort as needed because they illustrate our remarkable history.

USED UP ALL MY 2020 LUCK???

           
         Today I’m deviating from the posts I already prepared to write about how I have most likely used up all my luck for the entire year. If I have, it’s actually all right with me because I almost lost my entire life on Thursday.

          I try to give my grandkids experiences for birthdays and Christmas. On Thursday I took Arayli shopping, to lunch and then to see Jumanji. All was good until after the movie when we went into the bathroom.

          When I’m wearing jeans, I carry my phone in my back pocket. To make sure it didn’t fall into the toilet, I took it out and placed it on top of the toilet paper holder...you know where this is going don't you? I’d already done that once this day and didn’t expect a problem.

          Arayli and I were a couple blocks away from the theater when I realized I didn’t have my phone in my pocket. What followed was a lot of bad language, a very quick trip back to the theater and a dash into the bathroom.

          One of the things I wondered as this was going on is why after 74 years when something like this happens, I repeat, over and over, “Please God, please God, please God.” It’s not like I actually believe he’s up there watching out for me and keeping my phone safe for me…or handling any other emergency when I repeat that litany.

          I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked into the stall I’d used. There on top of the toilet paper holder was my phone. I am so unbelievably grateful to have it back…it contains my life, i.e., all the phone numbers I’ve not bothered to memorize, apps I use for other stuff, etc.  It doesn’t contain any bank or credit card information, but what it does contain would be so very hard to replace.

          Thank you God! Thank you Universe! Thank you other dimension! Thank you to the Good Luck suppliers!!! If that’s all my luck for 2020, I’ll be fine
.

JOHN DID CONTRIBUTE

          It certainly seemed as though John didn’t do very much around here except eat, sleep, spoil the dogs and sit in front of his computer. Imagine my surprise when:

• The iceman didn’t come…I suddenly had to find the magic recipe (he always said it was a family recipe) so I’d have fresh ice in the freezer.
  
•          The waterman didn’t show up either…the couple gallon Britta container in the fridge was suddenly empty. How John managed to get it back in the fridge full of water, I’ve no idea…it’s veeeerrrrry heavy.
•      Toilet paper didn't miraculously appear in the bathroom. It was always John who replenished the supply in the cabinet. Fortunately, I remembered before it was way too late. 

     The doggies had to be put into their crates for the night. They always slept with John (we had separate rooms); and, knowing they missed him too, I put them in his room on his bed in the beginning. But, apparently they didn’t like being in there alone and my bed is a twin…no room. After several nights of having them wake me up, I began to put them in their crates by the kitchen. Then, we all slept much better.

             There are surely other things John handled that I took for granted and in the days going forward, I'm sure I'll realize and appreciate exactly what I'm now missing.

ALL IS NOT AS IT APPEARS

          If you read the previous post, it may seem as though we had a wonderful marriage of almost 53 years; however, that isn’t necessarily true. We did have difficulties over the decades that led to separation, marriage counselling, trust issues and questions as to why on earth we just didn’t divorce.

          When we separated after four years of marriage, I received two valuable pieces of advice. The first was from a good friend’s husband. They’d had to get married because she was pregnant and had just welcomed their third child. He told me that he knew her better than anyone in the whole world, so why would he ever think he could make another marriage work with someone he barely knew if he couldn’t make it work with her. The second piece came from my best friend who said that there were times in her marriage where she walked alone in the deepest darkest valley where the light-filled mountains appeared to be so far above her she’d never reach them. But, she said she persevered and eventually climbed back into the light on the mountain. 

          I guess I took that advice to heart because no matter how bad things became between John and I, I persevered…or I was just too frightened or cowardly to try to go it alone on my own...or I guess I really loved him. 

          The last few years were especially difficult. John’s health deteriorated over time until pretty much on a quarterly basis we were calling 911, going to the hospital, followed by rehab prior to returning home. He was Mr. Crabbypants, but who wouldn’t be when they don’t feel well and are unable to do more than walk with a walker from room to room. I was Mrs. Crabbypants due to the fact John's ill health was mostly due to his own lack of care for himself, i.e., he ate what he wanted and ignored dietary suggestions from the doctor and/or nurse. He also didn't willingly exercise at all unless he was in rehab or the physical therapist came to our home. As long as John was in rehab, either at home or away, his physical activity improved greatly. When the directed PT stopped, so did John's exercise routine. As a result, it was up to me to care for him...I learned why "in sickness" comes before "in health." This was not how I imagined my/our retirement would be in our "golden" years.