Hard Things

I don't like to do hard things, but.

There are different types of hard things.

Hard Things 1: Things like slogging through the aftermath of my bout with cancer as I dealt with the effects of that damn shot. (Last week marked five years, cancer free! Yay, me!) It was hard, the days were long, my brain was foggy, my heart and body were tired. The best I can say about it was I got through it.

Hard Things 2: Things like helping Juliann to deal with Maria's death a couple of weeks ago. I've been wanting to ride in on my white horse and rescue that child for years. (Not that she needed rescuing, she has grit and determination and smarts enough to rescue herself.)

But as Maria's liver gave up functioning, and the end she both feared and wished for came to claim her soul, I decided the time was now.

Juliann did a marvelous job of taking care of her mom during the last few years of her life, but it's a whole 'nother level of hard to clean up the pieces after someone dies. This is where I gave myself permission to ride on in. Hi, Ho, Silver!

I spent a week helping Juliann clean up.

One day, we went over to Maria's and picked up every piece of paper we could find in the place. I spent the next two evenings sorting through - working to find the car title, the outstanding bills, the stuff that needed to be dealt with. I threw out bag after bag of old checks and bank statements that no longer had relevance. I smiled as I went through a box of Juliann and Connor's old school papers. I set some personal papers aside to be read later, once the dust has settled and hearts have healed.

I helped pack up Maria's apartment. This to Goodwill, this to Juliann's garage to look through later, these things back to the people who had loaned it to her, this to the trash.

The day after the move, my sister-in-law and I went back and gave the place a thorough cleaning.

After we were done, when I went back to Juliann's and handed her the keys, I was physically and emotionally exhausted, but in a good way. Finally, I was able to make her life a little easier, a little better. Because I'd been able to lift a few of the burdens off her slim and tired shoulders, she had the energy she needed to make the decisions only she could make.

As I got back on my white horse to ride off into the sunset, I decided I couldn't have asked for better payment for helping with a week full of hard things.

Hi, Ho, Silver!

Goodbye, Maria

Maria John  1965 - 2017

How do I begin to say goodbye to my little sister?

She struggled with alcoholism for years, and lost the battle a week ago.  

Alcoholism is a cruel disease. It kills slowly and eats away at the mind while it tilts the body's systems beyond repair.

She was beautiful, intelligent and generous, and loved her children more than anything else in the world. But her disease destroyed her censors and brought out her dark side and drove her to actions and words she deeply regretted when she was sober.

Her disease took away her home and her laughter. It drove her to lose daily contact with her children. It stole her joy, her bright wit, and at the end, it took her beauty.

I'm not used to feeling so much anger swirling around someone's death. But as my sister-in-law said this morning, anger stems from a sense of injustice - and there was so much that was unjust around her last years. I can feel the anger, hot in my belly - but I loved her anyways - and we all did.

And, Grace Is.

This morning, all of my family who were able to be there gathered to empty Maria's apartment of the boxes we'd packed over the past few days. Her daughter was delayed, and stepped from her car to find herself surrounded by people who loved her and who had come to help. The scene was far from one she'd envisioned - the one where she labored alone to carry the boxes down the long unsteady straight flight of twenty stairs because the family still wouldn't come. She took one look around at the crowd and her eyes filled with tears - tears she couldn't wouldn't allow to fall. It took a little less than an hour for the eighteen of us to empty the three rooms of all their contents, Juliann's eyes bright with unshed tears the whole time. Her eyes reflected the tears hiding behind my own.

Tears of sadness, tears of forgiveness. Tears of love, tears of regret.

Her disease built walls between Maria and her family. This morning, some of those walls took a serious battering. It's hard to hold righteous anger in your heart when you are surrounded by love.

Maria's funeral is scheduled for March 10th. She didn't want her farewell to this world to happen in the cold and dark days of February. In this, I agree with her. Easier to say this final goodbye with the promise of new life and new beginnings in the air.

Sleep in peace, Maria. May your soul and your body finally be at rest.

And, yes, as I promised, I will do all I can to be there for your children.

I love you...

New Beginnings II

I wasn't out of work for long.  Eight days, but who's counting?

I've found a short-term consulting job that started already this past Monday. The job will only last for 6-8 weeks, but I'm good with that. If I must be unemployed, I'd much rather it be in March than January.

I'm afraid I didn't utilize my time off as well as I'd hoped I would. I did the looking for work in the morning part pretty religiously. It was the work around the house in the afternoon part that fell kaput. I'd finish scouring the job sites and putting in my apps, then turn off the laptop and eat lunch. Then, when I should have started working, I'd look out the window. It was cold, gray. Surely, I told myself, a little nap wouldn't be out of order. So, I'd lie down for a bit, then I'd putz for a bit, then it was after four, and it gets dark at five and surely you don't expect me to work on stuff after dark!

I think I only talked me into getting stuff done on two of those eight days.  Not a good track record, unless I consult the "I'm free" voice - it LIKED the putzing and napping part.

How do I like the new place? So far, so good - the company is really small; an interesting change from the larger places I've worked. The job can be done mostly remotely, except for client meetings. This means I get to work from home. I like working from home.

Maria (my sister who's health has been on edge these past two years) took a turn for the worse last weekend, and my heart is calling me home to Minnesota. I need to be there for her daughter; I need to be there for me.

Fortunately for me, one of the hallmarks of a small company is flexibility. When I went in on my first day, I told them what is going on. I said I needed to go to Minnesota for a bit; that I wouldn't blame them if they wanted to rethink their decision to hire me and look elsewhere instead. They told me they didn't really care how remote I was; that as long as I was online, they didn't care if it was MO or MN that I was working from. I am most grateful.

More hard stuff.
I'm rather tired of hard stuff.

But grateful for a couple of weeks off to gather my strength before facing down this latest heartbreaker.
Grateful for a company that will trust me to work completely remotely.
Grateful to have money coming in.
Grateful that beginnings follow endings. Even the hard endings.

New Beginnings

My last day at Ericsson was last Friday. It was with much regret that I finished up my daily team call, wrote up the notes, sent them out, and shut down my laptop one last time. I didn't want to leave - I HATE leaving things uncompleted. I worked hard almost right up to the end; I wanted to hand over my project neatly wrapped with a red bow.

I worked around the house over the weekend; got started on building the closet shelving system.

Monday, I got up and started to look for work. There's not a lot out there right now, but I'm looking anyways. I figure that if I never hit the submit button on these job ads, they'll never have the chance to tell me no. Or ignore me completely. I mean, what fun is life if you don't have job applicants to ignore? And, eventually, most likely, one of them will look at my resume and say, 'yup. that's what we're looking for', and I'll be back to work.

I have competing voices going in my head:

Voice 1:  OMG! I'm unemployed and I don't have any money coming in and I'll never find a job and I'll be bankrupt and on the street and then I'll be homeless and... You get my drift.

Voice 2 (talking quietly, underneath Voice 1):  I'm free! I'm FREE!

Change is easier to adjust to when it's self-initiated, but I'm working on it.

Realistically, it's a bit much to ask that a job show up right when I need one.
Also realistically, I needed this break. I enjoyed my work at Ericsson, but constant time zone adjustments made me tired. Already, after just a week off (and my fourth week in one spot), I feel less tired. My body and the clock are in agreement on when it's time to sleep, time to eat.

It's good for me to have some time free. Time to look for work and work on my long-neglected projects, yes. But also time to take naps and do not much at all. Time to look around and breathe.

Someone once said it was good to have times in life where one can stop, breathe and relax.

Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something.

Happy New Year!

My sister's family has a quirky tradition they follow to ring in the new year. At midnight on the 31st, they run out the back door of their house - to usher out the old year, then run around the house barefoot to the front door, where they bring in the new one. The tradition wouldn't be quite so quirky if they didn't live in Minnesota, where the ground is quite cold come New Year's Eve. My brother-in-law is kind enough to clear a path for them on their annual jaunt - no need to add injuries from errant branches stuck in the snow to the mix.

This is the first year I've had a chance to join them for the festivities, and I must say, it wasn't so bad. I followed the teenagers out the door and almost to the corner of the house before my feet figured out what was up. From there, it was a quick sprint across the gravel (what, exactly, do you think you are doing???), a short jog across the concrete driveway (OUCH!  that bit of gravel that decided to quick-freeze to the bottom of my foot hurts!) with a few hops to remove the gravel bit, then up the front steps (whose idea was this???) and back inside (Made It!).

Once inside, feet tingling, bodies revved, we toasted the new year with a glass of sparking cider - and I was in bed within thirty minutes. (One can only take this acting like a youth thing so far, you know.)

I see a lot of life changes in this new year, starting with my job. I thought an issue with a non-compete agreement had been settled. My former company's lawyer disagreed and threatened to take me to court, so I have resigned my current position effective this coming Friday. Going to court is expensive, and I have lots of higher priority uses for my money than to use a good chunk of it to keep a contract job.  **sigh** Once my travel cut back to every other week, I really liked my job, and I was good at it. I'm trying to look at it like one of those nudges the universe gives from time to time - pushing me out of my comfort zone to a better place. It's not working, yet, but I'm trying to look at it that way...

The other life changes are more positive - Joe and Rita are engaged and have a wedding plan, so he'll be moving out. Kate, God willin' and the crick don't rise, will be graduating before summer. All good things.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1...  Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas!

Our Minnesota Christmas was delayed this year - Libby's last chemo was just last week, and we hope that by waiting for just a bit, she will be able to join us.  (The chemo seems to have knocked back the cancer - it's no longer visible on the scans.  HOORAY! - this does NOT mean she gets to forego the mastectomies, not with our family history. I don't think they've yet scheduled the surgery; I think it depends on how quickly she bounces back from the chemo.)

I didn't make other plans, so here I am, home alone after church on Christmas Eve. Joe and Rita went out for tacos. They invited me to join them, but I just couldn't convince my stomach it was up for greasy bar food and a margarita tonight.  Other nights, sure - but on Christmas???.

Once upon a time, I'd have been sad and lonely to be alone tonight. I keep poking just to make sure, but nope, I'm neither sad nor lonely. I have candles to warm the darkness, colored lights on the tree, music on the stereo. My people are not here with me tonight - but I know they are out there somewhere. There are presents; we won't open them tonight, but some of them have my name on them. I like presents.

I hate to admit anything even a little bit good came out of my bout with cancer, but there is this. I know I am loved. It's not out of sight, out of mind, as I feared it was for so many years. Rather, they hold me in their hearts as I hold them in mine. I am not alone in the darkness; I need to but reach out, and those who love me will be there.

And, it turns out Frankl was right. I might be alone right now, but I have with me memories of Christmas past; the memories are mine to treasure. Riding home from church, in the back seat with my siblings, shivering with the cold, singing carols, anticipating the joy of presents soon to come. Family gatherings, children galore, gifts for all. Tucking my children in, tired and worn, but smiling still.

And Joe and Rita just walked back in - would you believe they closed the bar kitchen early on Christmas Eve??? Who'd'a thunk it?

Merry Christmas!
For unto us a child is born...

Happy Winter Solstice!

It came, it came!

The year has turned, the shortest day is past.
I know what you're thinking - "Of course it did - it always has and will until the sun goes away."
Ah, but that's logical.
The anxieties that drive my tumbling world are not based in logic.
They're based in loss and darkness, uncertainty and fear.

Despite what my head tells me, there is a part of my soul that is afraid the days will continue to get shorter and shorter until the day when the light never comes at all (probably a good thing I don't live anywhere near the poles, where this is true!), and is convinced that when the light leaves, it won't come back.

Knowing that yesterday was the shortest day of the year, that today the sun will hang around for a whole minute longer, made a difference.

Light in the darkness, hope in the night.  The cycle begins anew, and my soul is comforted.  So what if the greater part of winter still lies ahead? As unlikely as it seems in these dark days, Spring will surely come.

Which brings me to wonder, what were those guys who made up the calendar thinking?  The world just turned - why do we wait another ten days or so to declare it a new year?  What's the significance of having the year turn the week after Christmas?  I know their astronomy skills were up to par, so that's not it.  (Not that this is the first time I've decided the 'theys' who decided something important are wrong.)

Happy Winter's Solstice Day!

Winter Skies

Is there another gray so flat as a winter sky?

I know the sun is out there somewhere (there's definitely daylight out there), but there's no trace of it behind the clouds.

I used to think I didn't like winter because of the cold. My time in the camper taught me it wasn't the cold that bothers me as much as the darkness. The day doesn't even pretend to brighten before seven; by five, it's already taken its leave.

'I don't WANNA get up', my inner child whines every morning, snuggling into the warmth of the blankets for just five more minutes. 'It's NEVER gonna be light again, and I HATE the COLD!'. (It's a good thing I have to get up to go pee - I don't know if I'd ever get me out of bed...)

I envy the trees on my daily walk.  'Sleep', I tell them. 'Sleep until the sunlight returns, until your blood stirs and it's safe to let your buds begin to unfurl.'

I dress in layers to ward off the chill - more inner than outer; there's no problem with my furnace and the house is the same temperature it was a month ago.

I pull the blinds to close out the dark.

I light candles to remind myself that dark cannot extinguish the light, but light can chase the darkness away.

I drink lots of caffeinated hot tea, drawing energy and warmth from the leaves.

I put on the Christmas CDs to play quietly in the background.  (I have enough that no, I don't tire of them in the three weeks I listen to them each year.)

I snuggle in after dinner with a book and a warm throw, easily convincing myself it's too dark and cold to do anything productive around the house.

It's just for a few weeks. If I focus on keeping an even keel, just for today, I can make it through.

one step at a time.

Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving, always one of my favorite holidays, came at a good time for me this year. Still reeling from the election results, it was healing for me to stop and give thanks for the good in my life.

My brother, his daughter, and her daughter came down from Iowa for the weekend.  Thursday, we met up with part of my not-related-by-blood family for a wonderful traditional meal, followed by the traditional walk to the Plaza to watch the lights come on, followed by traditional pie. Pie always tastes better when you've earned it!(Have I mentioned I like Thanksgiving traditions?)

Friday, we went up to the Nelson sculpture garden to play #LifeImitatesArt. My sister Julia and I first played this game many years ago when we visited the Smithsonian in Washington. One must become one with the intent of the artist; try to BE the statue. I love the game. We got to be outside in the gorgeous weather (no shopping for me!). Katy got to run off some of her energy. Tony got to play with his camera. We all got to laugh some; to enjoy time together sans electronics. What more could I ask?

I'm finding the old adage to be true: as we age, days take just as long, but weeks and months speed by. The time distortion isn't helped by the frequent time zone switches. Even as I was enjoying the day, I was wondering, "how did we get to Thanksgiving already?  who took October, and where did they put it?"

December is here; I have to turn my thoughts to the bustle of the holidays; to think about shopping, cooking, holiday gatherings, and who is going where and when? I'm totally not ready. Surely, there's a pause button somewhere. I just need a moment or three to catch my breath.

No?  No pause button?  **sigh**
In that case, bring it on! I'll surf the wave, do what I can, let the rest go.

Ready, set????

Election Blues

For the first time since starting this blog, I've run into a mental wall. I've been wanting to write about my reaction to the election since I woke up to a text saying, "How can this be?????"

But I start to plan my words, and they get stuck.  but, but, but, but, but.... why?????

For the last ten days, I've been obsessively scouring the web for commentary, for articles, for anything to help me understand why 47% of the voters of this country would choose a man who raises the hackles on the back of my neck.

I feel like I'm stuck in one of those dreams where you can see the danger, and you're screaming it to the world, but the world can't hear you.  danger, Danger, DANGER!!!!

He is the embodiment of the type of man I fear.

I can't say I was entirely surprised to find he had won the day. My gut knew he might, though my heart and head didn't want to believe it. I'd even voted Republican in the primary because I was so worried about the possibility - for Kasich, who seemed the best of the bunch. (It was the first time I'd voted a Republican primary ticket.)

As election season wore on, I made it a point to talk to his supporters when chance allowed. I wanted to try to figure out what made them willing to vote for him despite the way he treats women, minorities, his sub-contractors. The answers I got didn't make sense to me - the gist of what I heard is that they were tired of government as it was, and he, as an outsider, would shake things up.

Well, shaken things are.

My heart, for one. If 9/11 was a one-two sucker punch to the gut, this election is a right cross to the jaw. Reading about his first cabinet picks, I feel much as I did the afternoon after the planes crashed into the towers. My world has changed, and changed towards the dark.

I see a path where innocent people are hounded and marginalized, where women's voices are silenced. Where bullying is acceptable; a step backward to a world where it's acceptable to not acknowledge all people are people.

If I can find a positive in this farce, it is this: Racism, xenophobia, misogyny have grown like a cancer beneath the veneer of our society. Lethal, spreading unremarked beneath a cordial surface of code words. Trump stripped away the surface layer, exposing the marauding cells to the light - and they have swarmed to the opening.

Cancer exposed is cancer that can be treated.

I am still afraid. very afraid.

In my fear, since my words won't come, I'm relying on the words of others. I've been going back to the words of one wiser than I, who endured much, who lived anyways:

“The one thing you can’t take away from me is the way I choose to respond to what you do to me. The last of one’s freedoms is to choose one’s attitude in any given circumstance.” 
― Viktor E. Frankl

I can choose.
I can't cure this cancer of belittlement and hatred, but I can be kind.
I can't change the world, but I can work on loving those in my little portion.
I can't eliminate the ugly, but I can work on behalf of beauty. I can pick up trash in the park,
I can't make it safe (has it ever been?), but I can stand up to injustice when I encounter it.

Be kind anyways.
It's a place to start.