April - once again

Once again I'm writing about the hardness of April.  Once again I'm sinking into a 'funk' that has no rhythm or rhyme, just a loneliness, a quietness, a drifting away and unengaged.  Once again it's April and my body is remembering all that I had to do two years ago;  the last two weeks of Jim's life before he left us all on May 7th.

Last night Dave put on an old Bonnie Raitt CD and I was flooded with memories.  The good news is I was seeing Jim as healthy and vibrant in these images that flashed behind my eyes.  I have been waiting for the most recent images of my sick Jim to fade and to start holding tighter to the gorgeous, athletic, funny-faces and Irish-mugged Jim.  Last night I had a brief showing of that healthy man again.

We danced, always.

Today I'm back into the crippled, crooked and sick Jim images ... but oh, how sweet he was.  How incredibly loving, patient and kind he remained even as the tumor took him so far away that he couldn't talk or move very well.  How he would look at me and smile a crooked smile and struggle to say the words "I love you", but those were the words he remained able to say right up until his morphine coma.  Those words and the ability to look into my eyes, my soul, and speak volumes to me without one word spoken.

This is my April, once again.

Loving you all back
Mary

The Way it Feels Sometimes

"Missing someone isn't about how long it has been since you've seen them or the amount of time since you've talked.  It's about that very moment when you find yourself doing something and wishing they were right there by your side."


I don't know who wrote this but it's perfect.  This is exactly how it is for me.  And it doesn't matter how happy I'm feeling or what I might be doing the wishing just comes.  This past winter I was  bush whacking up the side of mountain in snow shoes with Dave and two other friends, having a great time.   Yet, on the hike back down that mountain Jim settled in and I found myself with tears freezing to my cheeks wishing he was there, tromping in snowshoes on that mountain.  


It happens less frequently these days, but with no pre-meditation it still happens.  It's just the way it feels sometimes.


The last week or so I've been feeling very melancholy, very low energy and hard to get myself up and out for anything but work and a bit of exercise; staring at clouds, or tree tops, or nothing at all.  No thoughts really, just this feeling of being a bit distant from others and quiet.  Last night, as I watched the setting sun reflected on the clouds I realized .... May 7th ... two years.  Ah!


It's a visceral reaction.  It's as though the very marrow of my bones starts seeping this information into each red blood cell that journeys to my heart.  The body seems to know before my mind grasps it.  And the weeks before seem to be harder then the actual anniversary date.


You do not replace one person with another, but I have found I can love again, be happy again and move on in my life. 


Still .... it's the way it feels sometimes.


Loving you all back,
Mary

St. Anthony

There is more to the story that I shared in the blog Like a Water Fall, that adds a touch of humor to that whole scenario.

The first camp was on a beautiful beach with a canyon that yawned behind us and a creek running through the canyon.  We could climb up into the cave of this canyon from our camp site and bask in a water fall (the picture used on my last blog is that water fall).  This creek exited right by our camp and on the other side of this little stream - that drained into the big river - was a private beach and perfect tent site for one tent.  Tom graciously gave Dave and I this little private spot as we would be spending two nights at this site in order to climb and hike deeper into the canyon.

the main camp our first night

Staying organized with personal gear is difficult while camping and seemed especially difficult to me on the river as everything had to be in dry bags or water proof containers and tied down.  I wear hearing aids so these were a concern for me especially if we hit big enough rapids and might tip the raft or I pop off the back with my hearing aids in.  Thus, Dave had found the perfect little dry box that held my hearing aid case, extra batteries and even could hold my extra camera card.  It would float and was bright yellow, but for added safety we put it in the ammo can that sat right on the raft deck and held all the things we needed to have easy access to.  Dave instructed me that I didn't need to put them in this case while on this section of the river to our first camp site, so I kept my aids in my ears.

When we unloaded to set up camp I decided to grab this hearing aid box thinking it would be a safe spot to house the aids, in their case, over night while in the tent.  I jammed the box into the pocket of my shorts, grabbed as much of our gear as I could and hauled things over to the little private beach ... which meant crossing the stream and clamboring up a bank.  I needed to make two of these trips and then I got the tent set up and the sleeping bags laid out for Dave and I (who was dealing with securing the rafts and other useful stuff!).  This was when I noticed the aid box was gone.  I must have set it down in the main camp.  I went looking for it.  I told everyone what it looked like in hopes that it was in the sand and easy to spot.  Folks kept their eyes opened and a few helped me retrace steps and look for it.  Nothing.

Now, there was nothing in this box I couldn't live without.  My aids were in my ears so that wasn't the problem.  I just hated being so disorganized that I was already losing stuff on the first night!

Jim and his sisters, who were all raised Catholic, would always pray to St. Anthony whenever they lost something:  "St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please come down, something is lost and must be found." And for Jim this always worked.

I said the prayer that night ... and again the next morning.  I was now convinced that the box had fallen out of my pocket when I crossed the stream and had probably floated to the main river and was in Lake Mead by now.  I let it go.

This second night at this camp site, after a wonderful day of rock climbing and exploring deep into the cactus world of the canyon, is when Dave and I had our little .... encounter.  Poor Dave, he told me he was so worried about what he might find when he came to look for me down by the river that night.  He was afraid I might have a "melt down" on him or be so angry with him that the trip could be ruined.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting on that boulder thinking about compassion when I looked into the river and ... Holy Crap .... bobbing in a little eddie right in front of me is MY AID BOX!  I started to yell, "St Anthony, St. Anthony!!" hauled my pants up and headed into the river, determined not to let that box float into the main stream that was a rushing torrent!

It was at this moment that Dave came around a rock pile, all worried and sheepish, and saw me heading into the rapids of the Colorado!  Frantic, he yelled for me, "MARY!"  I turned holding the little yellow box overhead and said "ST. ANTHONY!!"

Oh, how we laughed.  And then we got to the business of apologizing and talking out what needed to be said.

When I returned to the camp with the box in hand I told everyone that I am not catholic but if they ever lose anything they just might try that prayer .... as it does seem to work!

Loving you all back,
Mary

Like a Water Fall

As some of you know, who are on Facebook with me, we went away for an Arizona adventure/ vacation.  And boy, was it an adventure!  From the day we landed in Phoenix we were outside hiking, climbing (and this means with a rope wrapped around my waist and belayed from above) and white water rafting on the lower Colorado; the river that travels some 1,450 miles from Colorado, forming the Grand Canyon in Arizona.  The lower Colorado is the southern part of the Grand Canyon bringing us out into Lake Mead

There were many things about this trip that held milestones for me: that Dave gets to see that this outdoor-adventure-world he loves and seeks is also my world and what I have sought, and enjoyed, my whole life.  Naturally, after only eight months together I wondered how we would get along with the stresses that exist in said activities.  And the fact that I would get to be incorporated into Dave's world since his boys were joining us from Maine for the river trip and his best friend, Tom, (rock climbing and rafting buddy) of thirty plus years was our host out there in Arizona.  From our third "date" Dave has been engulfed in my world and so I was looking forward to being more engulfed in his.

First off, it was a wonderful vacation and we all had a blast!  Far too many stories and adventures to share in just one blog, but it was so wonderful to be out in the desert and to do all these activities with this man.

I got together yesterday with my good friend, KW, and showed her the pictures from the trip and told her all the stories.  KW, being who she is, asked me, "What did you learn about yourself on this trip Mary?"
Wow ... nothing like going straight to the real stuff!  But I did learn a lot about myself and this is what I  shared with her and want to share with you.

The night before going on the raft trip (and our 5:00 a.m. departure time) I was looking at the books belonging to our friends daughter, whose room she had so generously offered us.  As I scanned the bindings I watched my hand reach out and pull from the stack a book written by the Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, whose writings I'm familiar with.  This particular book was about anger and was filled with simple thoughts on addressing this emotion.  I allowed the book to just flop open and read what was on the page.  This thought was about watering the seed of compassion or watering the seed of anger and how we can always choose which emotion we wanted to nurture and allow to grow.

Hmmm.  I was not angry, nor had I really felt any anger, at this point in the trip but I thought this might be a really good intent to carry with me on our five day river trip.

Well, it was.

River rafting out west is different than back east.  First off, you are days away from help and there really are very few other people on the river (we saw one other party pass us the entire time).  Thus, there is a huge responsibility in keeping everyone safe.  Of course, this understanding sat on the shoulders of our leaders, Dave and Tom.  Second, the white water offers far bigger stuff then what is offered here in Maine.  And third, it's not a walk in the park!  Between loading all the gear for nine people into two rafts, unloading all this gear at each camp, setting up camp, cooking, cleaning up, breaking down camp the next day and reloading the damn boats only to do it all over again at the end of each day, after paddling for hours, .... it's a LOT of work!  So certainly there might be times when patience runs short.

There was such an interaction between Dave and I that had me needing to walk away from the group and just find some quiet time for myself down by the waters edge.  As I sat on a huge boulder, polished by the river below me, I found myself looking up at the canyon walls and then down at the surging green water.  I was awed at what this ancient flow had carved out of the earth ... and at this moment I remembered Thich Nhat Hanh's teachings about anger.  I realized I had the opportunity to put this teaching to work.  I sat there knowing that I could water my seed of anger or I could allow the seed of compassion to sprout and take hold.  Going into compassion meant that I had to let go of my own ego ... to not  react to the situation, as is my normal pattern, but to allow the other persons emotions to wash over me and to hear them.  I didn't need to be swept away by the current of his, or my, emotions but rather to  be like the large boulders sitting in that volume of water and allow the emotions to just flow over and around me and allow them to drift away.   As I went into this meditation I remembered all the stresses that were on the shoulders of this man I love and that I needed to offer him some slack and not come back hard and with my ego's anger blazing.

And what amazed me was ... it worked!  I was able to break an old pattern of mine of hardening my heart, closing it off, feeling the anger give me strength in my own conviction and becoming stiff, rigid and uncompromising.  Oh, I had used this far too many times with Jim over our years.   But this time, I moved into a different space and opened my heart and softened my stance.  I allowed myself to simply fill up and spill over, like a water fall.

Of course, this allowed for better communication when Dave came to find me so we could talk about what had happened between us.  And we grew a little closer together after this.

So, this is what I learned about myself on the trip.  And this is the lesson I want to create a whole new pattern around.  This is how I grow spiritually and how I can change and be a better person.

One friend said to me "Oh, so the honey moon is over?"  And I said, "No, the relationship has started to get real."

When you open up your life to the living
All things come spilling in on you
And you're flowing like a river
The Changer and the Changed
You've got to spill some over
Spill some over
Spill some over
Over all

Filling up and spilling over
It's an endless waterfall ...

Waterfall, Chris Williamson

Loving you all back,
Mary

Beyond the Sky and the Earth

I dragged myself out to the power lines in the early, frigid morning because my old dog, Ella, was running helicopter-type circles yesterday.  With Ella as my motivation we braved the icy trails and the first kiss of dawn.

As the rising sun caressed the black clouds it set them to blushing around the edges ... and I got thinking about life and death.  My dentist, Alan, of 20 years was in my thoughts this morning.  When Jim and I first moved back to Maine Jim found this dentist office here in town and told me I should check them out as he really liked all the people in the office.  Alan became a friend and we witnessed him go through some pretty sad times in his marriage that led, ultimately, to a divorce that was equally as hard.  And then we started to see him "out and about" with his gorgeous receptionist, Diane, who had been working in that office since forever.  Alan began to shine, his happiness palpable.  Jim and I were very happy for him.

When Jim got sick Alan sent me an amazing card and he and Diane came to the first photo show of Jim's where they bought a couple of his prints.  When I agreed to take Jim in for a dental exam Alan was patient and kind with Jim, who was so sick, undergoing chemotherapy, unable to talk and had loss of his right side.  Frequently we would see Alan and Diane when we were out walking around the neighborhood and they would always stop and give us both big hugs.

I was told that Diane was found two weeks ago on her bed with her arms laid across her chest ... a massive stroke at 58 years old had killed her instantly.  And I'm shocked.  And my heart bleeds for Alan and that entire dental office.

On my run I got thinking about this fine line we all walk here on Earth; that fine line between being here and being there ... on the other side of the veil, on the other side and no longer of this world.  How fragile and hugely unknown each new day is.  A dear friend of mine who died from breast cancer 8 years ago after battling it for 6 years one day told me that in this fight of hers there were moments when she actually touched that veil and felt she might be drawn to the other side.  And after those times she had never felt more alive and willing to grab each moment in each new day.  But, she added, it was almost impossible to stay in that space for too long ... perhaps our simple human minds can't take in all that joy and must pay attention to the mundane of an entire day or week or month instead of the expanding joy found in a single, fleeting moment.

As I thought about this, about Diane, about Jim a family of six crows swooped and dove directly over my head.  Native Americans say that crows are the connection between this world and the next and that when they visit us we are to be reminded of the "Magic" and the "Mystery" that is all around us.  As I ran down the trail with this family over me I thought of this connection between that pink-laced brightening sky and this frozen earth I was running on ... or perhaps more about how we loose that connection with that beyond.

Oh, my heart hurts sometimes.

But I am constantly reminded to just be here now, to not engage in the petty or the mundane, to grab for the gusto and ride my life for all it's worth, to love deeply and fully all those around me who I do so love. This morning I told this new man of mine that I love him, beyond the sky and the earth.  This simple statement, used by the people of Bhutan to say thank you, says it best for me today ...  an expression of gratitude .... and of love .... one and the same.

Beyond that sky and this earth .... we can never know all that Mystery.  But I was reminded of it today and for a brief moment in time felt that connection.

Loving you all ... beyond the sky and the earth ... back,
Mary

Big Hearts

February is all about red hearts, chocolates, flowers and romantic dinners ... for those who are in love.  And even though I am, in love, I did not expect or need to have the 14th be any kind of hoopla. How my perspective has changed!

Love - I certainly learned the depth and capacity of the love that I am capable of over the past 4 years.  If you had asked me if I loved Jim enough to do all that had to be done while he was sick I'm not sure I would have known what to say.  I'm not sure it's possible to know what you are capable of doing, or just how much love you can feel, until you are thrown ..... head first .... into the experience I was thrown into with Jim.  (As I read this I realize the two births I attended certainly was a 'head-first' wallop of intense, overwhelming love .... life and death.  Of course)

Even though the love increased ten times over - as our community surrounded us as well as the understanding that we had such little time together - the whole expressing of it took quite a different spin!

As I think back and remember the past Valentine Days the memories are pretty sweet. The one in '08, Jim was just finishing radiation, and a good friend found a little bracelet for Jim to present to me with a card that he scrawled a childlike writing on.  The bracelet was made with leather and since I never took it off it has since rotted.  But the little silver pendent that was on it with the word "devotion" inscribed into it still remains.  And the following year, when Jim was failing, a sweet friend from out of town sent dollars to my dear friend Jane with the instructions to "take Mary out to dinner!" ... and she did.  And on that Valentines Day I had a wonderful evening out with 3 other woman while their men sat at home with Jim.

This Valentine Day came and went with no big fanfare, no chocolate or presents.  And it was perfect.  The reality that I am capable of loving again; capable of being loved again is an amazing gift for me.  For this new presence is, truly and honestly, the best Valentines present I could have ever imagined.

Big Hearts.  I have been so blessed with a whole new perspective on just what that really means.

Loving you all back,
Mary

Old Patterns

Oh this new love is so interesting to me.  After being with Jim for so long it can feel crazy to be starting this ride anew.  But it's exciting and I'm realizing that I have a chance at a clean slate here; I am witnessing old patterns in myself and realize that I have the chance to change some of them.

Jim and I were best friends, we had a great relationship and a love that many only hope for.  But we weren't perfect; we had our struggles and our little itchy things that got under the skin and irritated each other.  Of course, any relationship is going to have this but I have begun to notice how some of these itchy things of mine might not have had anything to do with Jim.

One night, months after Jim was gone, I was moving through the bathroom, in the dark, at a good clip.  The bathroom has two doors that are in line with each other so that going from my bedroom to the TV room is a straight shot through the bathroom.  So as I bee lined it in the dark to the TV room I walked smack into the upper linen cabinet door, eye first.  OW!  I grabbed my eye and stumbled backwards, landing on the edge of the tub.  Wow.  As I sat there cupping my eye my first thought was "who the hell left that cabinet door open?!" .... and then I got laughing to myself as I recognized an old pattern.  Only I lived here.  Only I would have left that damn door open to booby trap myself.  But in years past I'm pretty sure I would have blamed that act on Jim.  In fact, at that moment sitting on the side of the tub in pain I desperately wanted to blame someone!   And I had an "a-ha" moment.  I probably did this blame-thing more often then I ever care to remember.  What an ass.

Oh, how I want to apologize to Jim for these kinds of things; my stupid behaviors that created unloving moments.  But Jim and I always believed that these bodies house our soul and in this imperfect world, as imperfect beings, our spirit is here to evolve; to learn and to grow spiritually.

So, here I am in this new relationship and I have caught myself on a couple occasions wanting to blame this man for some things ... but I don't go there.  I do not want to repeat this old pattern.  I want to allow the next wave to come in and wipe this etching from my shoreline.  To clean the slate and start afresh and not continue into this old 'needing to blame someone' pattern.

I like to think that Jim has already forgiven me and is somewhere smiling at all this.

Loving you all back,
Mary