at Mary's Place

Collection of thoughts and feelings of the long, hard road between my hopes and dreams and God's will.

[atmarysplace]

Alone...

I headed out for my walk on this beautiful, sunny morning.  I felt like I had a spring in my step as I walked forward on today’s adventure, one step at a time. I was enjoying discovering new lands, new paths and new places to walk.  

This day, finishing up my walk, I decided that I wanted to do the meditation practice that I had been doing for the past couple months.  It seemed like the perfect day to try to do this outside.  I knew that I wanted to be by the water, but was uncertain where I could sit to meditate, since I didn’t have a chair with me and there was not a bench by the beach.  That’s when I noticed this stump. It was the perfect size and height to be my own private meditation bench.  I was so excited.

And then I looked up and there she was again...

A single swan.  This morning, she was with a canada goose, but I knew that they didn’t belong together.  I had seen her just two days before and was concerned because I never had seen a single swan, the pair was always together on the water.  That afternoon I sought out comfort for this dilemma by talking to a neighbor about the swan all alone.  My neighbor had noticed it too.  She thought that the babies would be hatched by now so didn’t suspect that the other swan was on the nest, citing that probably had either met foul play, become ill or died from old age.

I was saddened.  I heard myself saying to the swan, “I know how you feel.  Lost.  Aimless.  Directionless.”  I’m sorry.  And you lack understanding, if your mate has died and nature has to run its course.  There are no grief counselors for swans, rather nature itself does what nature does.  Takes care of things.

On this day, and many other days really, I don’t like “nature” very much.  I just wanted all the creatures to be happy and pain free.  And yet, here was this single swan, swimming around the lake by itself.  No other swan partner.  I knew what it felt like to be without my partner.  I couldn’t imagine how a swan brain made sense of that - I know that I surely had not yet made total sense of my loss.

I sat on the stump in a slump.  I was disturbed and discouraged.  I was surprised at my sadness over the swan swimming alone.   I began my meditation  as I have learned, to just keep going.  Though I was concerned and sad about the swan, I was able to redirect my thoughts so that I could actually be present in the moment with the water, the sun and my breath.  Counting them, 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 up to ten and then starting all over again.  Eyes closed, I could feel myself being pulled into the moment of nothingness; peace and calm which in so many ways are so much more than nothingness; rather, everything!

I finished and stood up and knew that I had to start my day.  I bid the single swan farewell, telling it that there would be better days.  Then looking at the beautiful blue sea, I knew that I would be able to carry the swan in my heart, but not let it ruin my day, like it would’ve in my past life.  Though in my heart, I was hoping for a better outcome for the swan.

One last look and I was walking into the beauty of the day that God had given me again.  So very thankful.

[atmarysplace]

Duality of Loss

It’s been a while.  So many changes.  Staging to sell our house.  Selling our house.  Packing.  Packing.  Packing.  Finding a new place to live, to call home.  Moving.  Unpacking.  Unpacking.  Unpacking.  And still unpacking.  But feeling at home, nonetheless.  This was a really big deal.  So many details.  So much help and yet not enough help; so much was my own stuff to figure out what to keep and what to let go of, so many bottom lines were mine.  Help was easy in the packing up, not so easy in the unpacking.  40 years of stuff, moved......so many emotions.  Literally shutting the door to our dream, so that I can create new dreams of my own without Mart.  Hard words to write, even harder words to say, to live.  And yet, I did it.  I could feel Mart’s hand on my back as the tears streamed freely as I pulled the locked door tight behind me.  That was it.  

And there was Chuck who had been working tirelessly,  helping me every night with the zillion move details,  waiting to hold me and dry my tears and remind me that everything was going to be okay.   

This is the duality of loss.

[atmarysplace]

The Rockports are Gone

They’ve been sitting around for over seven years now.  Two pairs of shoes.  Won’t call them old; though at seven years, they might be considered old, but there was hardly any wear on them.  Some might describe them as having a lot of life left in them.  Life?  Quite the opposite.  You see, the reason that there is so much wear left in them, is that Martin died a month after he bought them.

I still remember the day at Partridge Creek Mall.  It was January and we had just returned from a trip to see my mom in Florida.  He was needing some new work shoes.  At $100 a pair, this wasn’t a purchase we took lightly.  But truly, he did need new work shoes.  We had finally arrived at a place (experiencing an empty nest and kids “off the payroll”) where there was enough funds so that this sweet husband of mine could have both a brown pair to wear with khaki pants and a black pair to wear with navy or black pants.  So we splurged and bought both.

On the same day, I got a new pair of work shoes too.  Rockports for Mama too, because he always felt, “whats good for the goose is good for the gander” too.

Odd thing about my Rockports is that, I hadn’t worn them before Martin died and it took me another four years later to put them on.  I kept wearing the tattered old work shoes that I had for so many years.  There were well worn and the shoe laces were shred to bits.  I think I finally threw them out when I visited Katy in New York because I knew I couldn’t go fishing in the trash bin after I came back to Michigan.

Grief and loss is weird and it shows up in the strangest of ways.

I held onto his two pair of Rockports looking for a “good home” for them.  So much easier to give things away when I know they are going to a good home.  I have found that to be an impossible task.  Time consuming, never ending and fruitless.  Believe me,  I tried with his Rockports.  

When  was volunteering at Grace Centers, I was asking all around for a man who wore an 8.5, hoping to find someone that I could hand them off to.  Someone that would know the value of a good pair of shoes and realize the great find that they had been given.  But that search was a dead end.  

I asked his brothers.  I asked other family members.  I asked girlfriends what size shoe their husbands wore.  

It is particularly interesting to me because I was able to give away the bulk of Mart’s clothing soon after he died, probably within six months.  I heard his voice clearly remind me that the clothes were just things and could be used by so many others.  I kept out a few special things for the kids and family and me, and took the rest, all neatly folded, to Grace Centers of Hope.  He loved volunteering there and I felt his clothes belonged there.

Then there was the time when I went through the next layer of things I had held back.  Dress shirts with the GM logo on them.  Neatly pressed, just picked up from the dry cleaners, dress shirts.   I decided one day, it was time.  I digress....and I promise to tell that story in my next blog.

On with the Rockports.

After unsuccessfully trying to find a “good home” for his Rockports, I decided to try the next best thing, Facebook Marketplace.  I’d been able to find a lot of “good homes” for a bunch of my household things, why not the Rockports.  If I couldn’t find the right person to give them away to, I would sell them and get some money in my pocket.  Faith’s friend who helped me get Marketplace going, had told me that she had not had much luck with shoes on Marketplace. But I thought I’d give it a try.  

My strategy is to price my stuff a couple dollars less than the cheapest version of what I am trying to sell.  No interest, no offers.  I lowered the price more.  No interest,no offers.  I lowered the price to $5 and said, “this is it, if they don't sell of $5, I am donating them; there must be a poor soul who can use them!”  My rule was now, if it doesn’t sell on Marketplace, it gets donated, not put back on the shelf.

Last week, I was working in the basement decluttering.  There was my pile of unsold Marketplace things with the Rockports on top.

It was time.  I loaded up the car and drove to the donation center.  I popped open the trunk for the worker to get the boxes filled with stuff, and the Rockports on top, and didn’t look back.  Filled out my paperwork and realized that whoever was the lucky soul to find these great treasures, would never really be aware of what big shoes he was filling. 

#missyoumart

#rockports

[atmarysplace]

Writing

I always have a multitude of things that I want to write about.  I don’t think I could ever run out of topics.  Life itself provides me with so much interesting material.

One of the issues that I have run into is that I was told that anything that is posted online becomes “published” material and cannot be submitted for publication.  Not that I would submit all of my writings, but a great portion of them, I do hope to turn in for magazine articles and eventually my book.  Because my personality tends to be deep in nature, most of what I write is deep too.  Hard for me to just keep it light, if my reality, is also keeping it real.  Ha!

Today started out pretty good.  I had a slow start with a number of things that I wanted to get done, mostly administrative things that don’t show up as accomplishing much of anything.  I know all that I’ve done, but it doesn’t reflect on a to do list anywhere.  Not that I am much for to do lists.  I loathe to do lists. They energize others, but not me.  I rebel against them.  Though I do often write down a list of things I need to do, since my memory does not serve me well, I don’t use it to order my day.  Perhaps I should.

I was much like this in my old life.  Martin was a very organized, methodical thinker.  Writing down his tasks for the day and prioritizing them.  I was all over the place.  Still am.  Didn’t matter what planner he bought, or system he taught, not much worked with me.  I like the big block squares on my calendar and fill them accordingly; but that is for appointments, not things to remember.  Those things appear in the side columns of my planner and not in any real detailed or complete fashion.  Pretty much, in the morning before I get up, I try to concentrate on what are the most important things to get done today.  

Today, I didn’t have so many things on my list, but often the things that were there, grew with subsequent steps.    Call insurance about prescriptions, call dermatologist about shampoo, make online account for prescriptions.  Call for vacation car rental, make online account for car rental; OT work tasks, calls and emails; Conversation with a friend going through hard times; texts to kids and friends; distractions with Facebook and email; dogs in and out; vacuum the house; and now I get ready to go to work for three home visits.

I often find myself wishing my day was my own.  That work wasn’t coming today; and yet I know, that my job is a dream come true, mostly because I make my own schedule.  I could not survive if that was not the case.  But today, I have a difficult home visit and tomorrow, there is some pressure to do some online trainings that are not to my liking, but must be done; and a new client tomorrow too.  It is always a mixed bag, not knowing what kind of family I am getting.  Truth is, I love some of my families and don’t love some of my families.  

So essentially, my days ARE my own.  But they are often filled with so many things, sometimes things that are out of my control.  So, today, I say, suck it up buttercup, go with the flow and be thankful that I only work 2.5 days this week.  It will all work out and be okay.  Just sometimes, I resent technology and making more accounts and passwords and figuring out why it’s not working.  And sometimes I wish I was free from the responsibilities of working at all.  Like, maybe I’d like to be footloose and fancy free into full retirement.  But not today. Working and my job is good for me.  It gives me some structure and of course a pay check, which is always good.  Semi retired is good for this 62 year old woman.  I am thankful for my job that provides me with people in my life, challenges for my OT brains, and the flexibility to take time off to go out of town as needed, and make my own schedule on a weekly basis.  For that I am grateful.  Wish my job was a bit more stimulating and more rewarding.  Some of my families do participate more fully in OT than others.  Those are the ones that I feel OT makes a difference, just wish there were more.  But at the end of the day, does it matter?  Not sure on that answer.  To be continued...

[atmarysplace]

Snow snow, go away

Pretty sure, I am done with this snow.  It is certainly making it known to me that I truly would enjoy being a snowbird.  I don't see myself ever living in Florida permanently, but I have learned to say “never say never.”  But I do know, that I at this point, I would like it for Jan, Feb and March!  So tired of boots and snow plow guys and treacherous driving, or worrying about treacherous driving, and snow slowing everything down.  All my home visits get delayed and I have to wear boots, which of course, our families expect me to remove when I come into their home; and quite honestly, in some homes, I really don’t care to walk around in stocking feet, so usually I take my crocs to wear as slippers; but then I have to put the boots back on and usually end up stepping in a wet spot on the floor from where my boots have defrosted and I hate having wet socks; like REALLY hate having wet socks.

So, yes, I am tired of winter.  It can fly the coop, any day now.  Though I hear the weather forecast has snow all this week.  The past six winters have been mild until this year, and for that, I am very thankful.

[atmarysplace]

Celebrate Victories

I get the sweet treat pleasure of having my fifteen month old grand daughter all to myself, every other Friday, when it is N and Nonnie day!  

She greets me in her mothers arms at the front door with a smile on her face and legs wiggling, all because I showed up!  That’s all I have to do with N is show up and be present.  Oh, and sit on the floor!!!  (a good reminder why I Jazzercise - so I can sit on the floor with my grand kids!!)

On our days together, we play the day away, moving from one activity to the next.  Little people.  Dinosaurs.  Reading books.  Measuring tape.  Books.  Big legos.  Books.  Play food.  Books.  Kitchen Cupboard.  Did I mention that she likes reading books???

We eat breakfast together and listen to Toddler Tunes that Alexa so generously plays.  She is beginning to recognize many of the songs and when a song comes on that she knows, she stops what she is doing, gets even more bright eyed and begins to dance or act out the hand motions.  Eensy Weensy Spider and the Wheels on the Bus.  SO MUCH FUN.  Pure joy for this Nonnie.

This week, as I considered how much she had changed in just a week, she reminded me of something that we should all do.  CELEBRATE OUR VICTORIES.

We are so hard on ourselves.  If we flub up we beat ourselves down.  When we don’t get it right, we are disappointed with ourself.  And when we do get it right, we don’t even notice.  The world and it’s people are not an encouraging lot!  People are not likely to say, “Good job” or “Atta girl” or “I’m proud of you.”  Sometimes, we must learn to do that ourselves.

N has that mastered.  I observed it last Friday a number of times.  One way is demonstrated in the photos above.  In the first photo the little people “guy” is laying on the ground; in the second, N has picked him up, has her little tongue out in concentration and correctly places him in the “seat” in the house; and in the third photo, the best one of all, she claps for herself and her achievements.  And of course, I clap right with her.

Isn’t that how it is?  When we clap for ourselves, our village who does life alongside us, claps too.  We are excited for the new job, proud of the award and glad for the five pounds lost for our friends and family, because they worked hard, earned it and achieved something that maybe they didn’t think they could.

N knew she could put the “guy” in the seat, but she didn’t achieve it days before when she tried for  the first time.  She had to learn.  So often, adults forget about the learning curve and want to be great at everything instantly.  How can we be great when we have never done it before?  And where would the value of trying hard be if we succeeded at everything the first time?  There is much to be gained from working hard toward a goal.

So today, celebrate your victories.  Be like N and clap for thyself!

[atmarysplace]

I've been feeling unsettled the last week or so; just a churning inside; with memories and reminders of Mart springing up all over the place.  Typically in my new life, at this point, memories generally evoke good thoughts and a smile; but lately, I have been feeling a sadness within.  I described the feeling to a friend, "it is like a train that has left the station and is careening down the tracks out of control."  

The train of grief; the train of the sadiversary, Martin's "death day" that is lingering around the bend.  February 15.  The day my life changed forever.

Daily there is always conversation about Martin.  With the kids, with friends, with family, so I can't say that that has changed.  Many thoughts of him cross my mind everyday.  But this is almost like a feeling of angst inside.  Angst is an odd word and maybe the perfect word to describe what I feel.

These are the weeks I can remember, where we went, what we did and what was said.  Not in the clearest detail but I know the general goings on.  This time in 2011, I was at a conference in Grand Rapids with Carol Kent.  It wasn't really a conference.  It was a "book taping" and Carol had been looking for women to be actresses as the audience as she taught her bible study for her new book, that happened to be named, "Between a Rock and a Grace Place."  Little did I know how this would be my deepest reality in a few short weeks.  I had a great time there.  It was a time away.  Mart had made me reservations in a real nice hotel and I had to figure out my way to the taping studio each day.  I met some nice women and enjoyed the "dressing room time" as we changed our outfits to look like it wasn't all taped on a single day.  I remember checking into the hotel and them asking me about Holiday Inn points for Martin Kurily.  Yep, that's me.  Mrs. Martin Kurily.

This week, talking about this train rolling down the tracks prompted me to look up an article I remembered by an author that has been helpful on my grief road.  Her name is Christina Rasmussen.  The title of the article is “Don’t get on the Anniversary Train.”  https://www.secondfirsts.com/2014/05/dont-get-on-the-anniversary-train/

In her writing, she talks about not getting on the anniversary train as that is not where life is.  She accurately describes how loud the train “Heavy.  Noisy.  Old. Loud.”  She also says that nothing about riding the “death day train” is honoring to the person who has died.  So true.   Every year we approach the Mart’s death day and Mart’s birthday individually.  The first year of the death day, we had a party to honor him.  All the kids were in town.    We had Alibi antipasto salad and  Louies Pizza (both favorites of Mart’s) on speed dial to keep the pizzas coming.  And a refrigerator of beer.  Not that he drank that much beer, but he did enjoy it from time to time.  So many of his friends and family gathered that day.  It was one of those days that I hoped God has opened up heaven for a minute so he could see all the people and hear all the stories, and know that the kids and I were doing better than surviving.  We may not have been thriving, but better than surviving.  

In later years, it seems we all do what we needed to do.  The first couple years, I would spend with whoever was in town, so that I was not alone.  But then the sting lessened and the wound wasn’t so fresh.    I was at an ice fishing tournament on February 15th in 2015.  In 2016, I had to take the dogs to the veterinarian.  In 2017, I worked and went to my writing group in the evening.  Those things are Life Giving.  Those things honor Mart by participating in the lives that we have left.  That’s what he would want!  Choose Life, Mary!  This is how I let the death day train go right by me.  I’m not even standing on the platform anymore waiting to board the train.  Even if I can feel it careening down the tracks these days and weeks before.  That’s part of how it goes for me.   Honoring Mart’s memory by remembering who he was and what we had and by choosing to live; to reach out and grab life with all that we have.  Yes, that is what we are doing.  It is certainly not perfect, but we are learning to walk all over again without the one who taught us so well.    So very thankful.

[atmarysplace]

I think I have a few faithful readers, 4 or 5 (2 or 3 who are my own kids - LOL), and I know that regular writing makes readers stay tuned in and makes me a better writer; and now I am coming back after months off of writing in my blog, or anywhere actually.  I was having issues with my tumblr website which Daniel helped me work through, so now, I can access my webpage to share my thoughts.  One of my faithful readers is my college room-mate who recently sent me an email asking if I was okay because I hadn’t written in my blog or been posting on Facebook much and she hadn’t received my yearly Christmas card.  So kind of her to notice!  I sent her a card, don’t know what happened to that, but now, I sent her another one.  Her note motivated me to get back to the business of writing.

I hate being busy.  I know it’s all a choice, but so often it doesn’t feel like a choice.  I feel often I’m passing on one good thing for another.  And yet, lately, I find so much that I want to write about!!!   2018; Vision Boards; annoying people; annoying life; remembering; forgetting; taking time; being still; divorce; death; adult kids; cancer; relationships; travel; adventure; health/wellness; dogs; snow; work.....so many topics.  So, hopefully, I will be able to take time to just do it!  Starting now!  

37 Years Old

These are my Christmas placemats.  They come out every year after Thanksgiving and stay out till well after Christmas.  They make me smile.  They make me happy.  They make me remember.

Remembering that my mom gave me these placemats when Faith was a baby; a little baby in 1980.  She was four months old that Christmas.  These placemats caught her attention because of the contrasting colors and of course, the cute face of the snowman.

It hit me this year, just how old these placemats were!  You wouldn’t necessarily think about it.  They are in good condition and they hold significant memories so it is unlikely I would be thinking about getting rid of them; no, they are staying. But 37 year old placemats??  I can’t even imagine that the placemats are that old, let alone my daughter, or the fact that I gave birth to her 37 years ago?  It feels like it was just a few years ago when we were in the thick of parenting and making parenting decisions.  How long will she sleep?  When did she eat?  Will she sleep all night?  What if she wants to nurse if front of “the brothers?”  Does the car need gas?  Is she buckled in the carseat right?  Will I ever sleep again?  What if I get pregnant again this year?  Should I find a part time job?  Where can I find some friends?  Do we have a clue? Such big deals then.  Now 37 years later, so much has changed.  I now know big deals.  Really big deals.  

[atmarysplace]

Tumblr Trials And Tribulations

A friend wrote me me noting that I hadn’t been blogging. Yep. Busy. Growth. Other odd things. Relationships. House. Work. Illness. Holidays. Tons taking up my time. Decide to try to write again today only to have issues with tumblr on my computer. I can get online to tumblr through my phone but not my computer. Hard to type anything of length from my phone. Working on it. Hold tight.

[atmarysplace]

Summer

We have had the best weather the past two weeks.  Today was a prime example of wonderful.  The high was 82 and there was a slight breeze and the sun shone bright all day long.  It was a day where you could just sit on the deck or work in the garden.  I sat on the deck!

I feel the entire summer has been wonderful weather.  Some rain to help my gorgeous grass; mostly sun; and not a lot of too hot, or too cold, days.  Just perfect in my book.

Tonight, my mom and I sat on the deck and were reminiscing about all the wonderful days at the cottage.  Memories at  E’s cottage and the other cottage that we owned that mom and Owen sold to us!   Such fond times.  Such fun times.  And memories that we will keep in our hearts forever. 

A good portion of our family was built on summers at the cottage.  It was a pleasant thing to think about today and remember.

[atmarysplace]

Tuesday

My mom has been in town for the past week and one half.  The first week was spent up north with my kids and grand kids and my mom.  It was wonderful.  So relaxing and enjoyable to all be together under one roof.  Very thankful.

After all the kids left, my mom stayed on another week.  It’s been a good week. I worked on Mon and Tues because I took those days off last week.  So today was the end of my work week.  My mom has been busy doing various tasks to help me around the house.  She loves my dogs and they have appreciated the extra attention.

Today, we went to lunch at Applebees.  Yesterday we went to dinner at Vast with my brother and his family.  Tomorrow we are going out for breakfast.  On Thursday, we are going to Belle Isle with Faith and Norah.

My mom has been having a wonderful time and it has been so nice to have her around.  I am very thankful.

[atmarysplace]

Let it Lay ~ Monday’s with Mary

Well, it appears that my technical issues have resolved.  Not sure how they resolved or  if they have fully resolved, but so far, so good.  

Reminds me of a saying that our family has adopted in recent years. “Let it lay.”  What we have found out about many things, is that it can be best to just do nothing, to “let it lay.”  Sometimes, things need time to work themselves out.  Naturally, not all things.  Much needs to be addressed.  Broken air conditioning. Making airline reservations.  Weeding the flower bed.  Those needs aren’t going to fix themselves and require attention.

But other things, do best with some space and time.  Relationships.  A conflict between friends.  A hard conversation.  Comparing prices for a new purchase.  A case of the sniffles.  Sometimes, you just have to wait and see.

Turns out, that might just be the case with the website for my blog.  I “let it lay” because I had no choice.  I did not have the skills to fix it.  I was aiming to have Daniel work on it this past week when we were together for a few days, but it seems we ran out of time, having so much fun on vacation.  Tonight, a friend of Daniel’s is coming to pick up something and he is a computer whiz and I figured he would be able to help me problem solve the problem.  So, I turned on the computer now to get ready for his visit, and Voila!  It works.

So hello again.  Looking for more times of sharing what’s going on in my world.

[atmarysplace]

Mondays with MJ

Having technical difficulties. Be back soon!

[atmarysplace]

Monday’s with MJ

Lost and Found

My life is full and busy.  Seems like a stark contrast, no, it IS a stark contrast with the way my “new life” started years ago.  It was very sad for the first year and then sad for the second, but with the second year came dull, drab and boring.  It was so plain.  So uneventful.

I still have to make plans if I want to do something or be with someone, but at least now there are more choices and there I am not always the person making the plans.  Takes a ton of pressure off of me and for that I am thankful.

I’ve been traveling to visit my kids with even more visits coming in the upcoming weeks.  It seems that it takes me a week to get ready and then a week to recover, which is basically three weeks out of commission.  Not so great for my job - LOL.

I remember in the early months after Mart died, I was sitting at a restaurant called Nick’s on Van Dyke with a new friend that used to be Mart’s friend and then has become mine.  Neither she nor I have ever gone back to Nick’s.  Guess it was a bad meal.

Anyway, I remember sitting there, feeling so lost, looking at her so forlorn and asking, “how on earth, am I ever going to find my new life?”

Her response to me was one that has become pivotal in my new life.  She said, “Mary Jo, I don’t think it’s like that.  I don’t think you go searching for your new life.  I think one day, you will look around and see that your new life has found you.”

At the time, I couldn’t imagine.  And didn’t even expect it to be true.  I remember thinking, ‘what does she know?’

In reality, that is just what has happened.  I’ve kept some old friends that I love dearly.  I’ve made some new friends that I’m loving getting to know better.  My kids forge ahead, often amidst struggle and hardship to make lives for themselves.  I have developed new interests and acquired new hobbies.  I have a house to maintain.  I have places that I have traveled to and am making more plans to travel.  I have a job that I like.

One thing I’m learning is that life is not static, meaning that it stands still.  Life is dynamic, always moving. Both positively and negatively.  My life has found me. 

[atmarysplace]

Monday’s with MJ

Anniversary

This past Friday was a special day for me.  Well, it used to be anyway.  It was the date of my wedding anniversary, 4-28-79.  What a grand and glorious day that was!!  We had not one iota of hesitation or fear as we walked down the aisle.  We knew that we knew that we knew, we were right for each other.  We were right!

Some might say, “Happy Anniversary, it would be 38 years!”  That isn’t helpful.  I don’t need reminders of “what would have been.”  Everyday, I am aware of what would have been.

This year, as in years past, our wedding anniversary causes some subconscious angst.  Not even aware of the unsettledness that it brings, but then there it is, front and center.

This year, it was my “Friday” to babysit for Norah.  Such a delightful little soul.  She brings me joy.  Her smiles lights up a room and my face.  

There was a subdivision sale and Faith left the stroller so we could go for a walk.  What a fun time.  I bought a tool box for my garden for $6 and a pretty fruit bowl for 50cents.  Norah was a wonderful “front man” and everyone loved paying attention to her and so enjoyed the smiles she so willingly gives.  It was a great couple of hours outside.

Chuck and I made plans to go out for dinner.  When we got there, there was a band and the restaurant was packed.  We were especially hungry, looked around and saw that there was a Jets Pizza a few doors down.  We bought two Jet Packs (2 pieces of pizza and a pop) for $5 each and went and sat on the bench out in front of the strip mall to eat our dinner.  Hokey?  No.  It actually seemed slightly romantic to be outside watching traffic and the people coming and going.  Mostly, our bellies were full and that made us feel much better.

That night I received a heartfelt text from a girlfriend letting me know that she had been thinking of me throughout the day.  She wrote, “The precious love you and Marty shared truly was not long enough together, but long enough to last forever.”

I found myself writing back, “The day was full of what was, and what was was a beautiful marriage.  It also included ‘what could have been’ and that is just plain old sad.  But in the present, and in the land of ‘what is’ I have a lot to be thankful for.  There are many things going on in my life that cause heaviness.  But today, I feel Marty cheering me on.”

To which she replied, “I am glad you feel him cheering you on today. “  She then referenced a Facebook post I wrote about a new book, “Option B” written by Sharon Sandberg, after the loss of her husband.

My friend said, “The Option B post really touched me.  You truly are kicking the shit out of Option B (a reference from the book).”  WOW.  Those were some great words.  Validation that I needed, that I long for, that I don’t find out in the world most days.  Another thing to be thankful for.

While I would have loved to celebrate 38 years with my wonderful man.  That was not God’s plan for us.  Heck, I thought we’d get to 50 years with ease, having married so young.  But we barely got to 32.  

I know without a doubt that we experienced more love and care in our almost 32 years than many marriages experience in 50 or more years.  I am so thankful that we loved well.  No regrets.

[atmarysplace]

Monday’s with MJ

Senseless

A photo of a handsome young man popped up in my Facebook feed last week and I’ve been unable to get his face out of my mind.  The photo was a classy, casual pose with a sport coat and shirt untucked.  His face had strong features and something in the post stated that he was on the tennis team and also had been selected to join the ROTC for college.  The photo was part of another post for a Gofundme page.

Turns out that this 17 year old young man was in Ft. Lauderdale on spring break with eleven other kids, ages 16-18, partying the night away in a house rented for the teens by a parent who was in another house, two doors away.

The young man whose photo caught my eye and imprinted on my brain, had been drinking and was intoxicated and became belligerent and his friends suggested he go and sleep it off.  When they went in his room, they heard him snoring loudly and the next minute he was not breathing.  A friend contacted the parent in the house two doors down and another friend administered CPR.  The police were called and at 4am that Tuesday morning, his mom, Annette received a frantic call that her son had been rushed to the hospital.

At this point, my heart hurt.  I too had been the recipient of a frantic, though calm call telling me that my husband had been rushed to the hospital and was not breathing on his own.  I will never move beyond the seriousness of the words that the police officer said to me that night.  Never.  That was the second that life began to change.

As I thought about his mom, his family rushing around to secure flights to go to the bedside of their son, I can’t even imagine how awful that would be.  The angst that she carried in her heart as she did not know how he was doing, or how he would fare, or if he would live.  How on earth did she manage the 3 hour flight, if she was even able to find a non stop one!

He died.

The young man had consumed so much alcohol, it killed him.  The snoring that his friends heard, was him gasping for air as life was sucked out of him.  For a few hours, he teetered between life and death, but death won and he was dead.

A beautiful young man, on the verge of the best years of his life.  A kid full of hopes and dreams.  A mom and a dad full on anticipation of high school graduation awards and parties and dreams coming true.  Done.  Finished.  With one drink (or ten) too many.

My gut would like to believe this kid wasn’t a typical partier.  That he got carried away on spring break.  But in my heated opinion, that is the problem with alcohol (or drugs), it may not be someone’s intention to drink too much, but often times too much alcohol impairs judgment and when that happens,  the person is no longer able to say “I need to stop.”  And so they keep going.  Until they are full blown drunk and in this case belligerent too.  And with that, he made a choice while under the influence of alcohol to drink so much, it killed him.  Might’ve been just this one time.  But in that case, it was his first and last time to drink too much.

Below is part of an article I found online surrounding his death.  I found the statistics staggering:

Although a cause of death was not available Friday, the excessive consumption of alcohol in a single binge is blamed for more than 2,200 deaths of Americans each year — an average of six per day — attributed to what is called alcohol poisoning, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta.

Ingesting large amounts of alcohol in a short time "can shut down critical areas of the brain that control breathing, heart rate and body temperature — resulting in death," according to the CDC's website.

I continue to have this family on my mind and in my heart.  Their lives changed in an instant.  My counselor used to tell me that “your life can change for the good, or for the bad in an instant.”  She is right.  So hard.  And in this case, SO SENSELESS!

As a recipient of the sudden death of a loved one, I find I identify with others who experience the same thing.  So much to wrap your head around and decisions to make and things to process when you are so not ready to do so.  I feel for them.  I hope others are standing alongside them and continue to do so.  They will need to be held upright on this long, winding grief road.  No more words.

[atmarysplace]

Mondays with MJ

Just returned from a wonderful Caribbean Cruise.  Ah......more to follow!