Strong Enough?

Sometimes I picture my husband as surviving the heart attack, except he’s in a wheelchair and has difficulty moving and communicating – alive, but not as alive as he would have wanted.  In the picture I’m taking care of him, both grateful because he’s still with me, and sad for the way he must live.  I’d be sad for me too because of all he needs from me.  I can say now that I would be glad to help because wanting him here is still as strong as it was in the beginning.  But how quickly would that level of care wear away the wanting of him?  Maybe it wouldn’t; I don’t know.  I do know it would be hard.  I’ve experienced many different levels of hard, but for hours, days, weeks, or years, not for what could be 20 years or more.  Keeping a promise was difficult, giving birth was pretty hard, my husband’s death was very hard, and now, much less so, but I’ve yet to live with extreme, unchangeable hard.  Would I be strong enough?  I’ve been strong enough so far, so yes?  I can only hope I would by relying on friends when just me isn’t enough.

A Reason

I thought more about the words, “Go rest high on that mountain.”  (Vince Gill)  It’s OK, rest now, because your work on earth is done.  A good enough reason to leave this earth?  Maybe, but what if I thought my work wasn’t done?  Are there other good reasons to leave?  You’ve been loved lots – how much love in enough?  You’ve loved lots – still lots of people out there that could use some.  You’re children are grown and independent – doesn’t mean they couldn’t use another friend.  You’ve given so much to others – there’s always more to give.  You’ve experienced so much – really, when there’s a whole world out there and I’ve never left the Americas.  You’ve accomplished so much – really, when there’s so much left to do.  You found enough joy – there could never be enough joy.  You’ve written enough words – I believe thoughts are endless.  You’ve tried long enough – enough has nothing to do with trying.  You’ve made enough mistakes – there’s probably a few more whoppers out there waiting for me.  You’ve had enough pain – pain reminds me I’m alive.  You’ve shed enough tears – not when I’ve been given an endless supply.  You’ve had enough sorrow – enough?  I’m just getting started.

Me, The Luggage

I’ve taken quite a few trips; all places I wanted to go, never arriving without my luggage.  To find my way by car, I’ve taken directions, maps, or GPS.  I’d check what the weather would be like and pack accordingly.  I took one trip to a place I didn’t want to go, no pre-flight two hour wait, just seconds, without luggage; not only no time to pack, but no idea what conditions to pack for.  No directions, only pain to show me the way.  I would say I traveled  more like a piece of luggage than a passenger.  My weight would be a factor; not if over, but under the pain limit, so more could be crammed in until the maximum was reached.  Automated conveyor belts kept me moving to each stop along this unwanted, unavoidable trip that was planned out just for me.  Without a fragile sticker, I’d be shoved, tossed, squished, yanked, and dropped, and that’s just to get on board.  Then there’s the cold, dark flights with the same bad handling at every stop.  The overall result: no permanent damage and finding so much pain had been replaced with all I needed to find my way home.

363 Days

On A Charlie Brown Christmas, Charlie says, “I know nobody likes me.  Why do we  have to have a holiday season to emphasize it?”  Yikes, there really are lots of holidays that revolve around having people in our lives – Christmas gifts, Thanksgiving dinner, birthday parties, Valentine’s Day love, July 4^th picnics and fireworks, and New Year’s celebrations at midnight.  And if there’s no one to share them with, they certainly do bring attention to the alone factor.  I spent last weekend alone.  Did anyone think that’s terrible or sad?  I didn’t think so.  Then why would yesterday be sad?  Because it was Christmas.  I did what I wanted last weekend; sleeping in, doing chores, making cookies.  Yesterday I slept in, baked a cheesecake, and watched a bunch of movies.  Lots of relaxing with no sadness at all.  Do we think people shouldn’t be alone on Christmas or Thanksgiving because we’ve been conditioned to think it’s sad?  If so, what makes alone sad on those days, but not other days?  Do these holidays have the power to effortlessly direct our minds towards others?  If so, we need to figure out how to keep that effortless thought for the remaining 363 days.

Once A Year

Every time Christmas pops up I start thinking about how I spend my time and who I spend it with.  Will I give you a day?  Yes, more than one, but it might not be December 25, the last Thursday in November, or just at weddings or funerals.  I like being the company; you’re important enough for me to come to see you.  Will you give me a day?  I like being the host; I’m important enough for you to come and see me.  To me visits are most special when they’re not required, dictated by tradition, or under obligation.  To me visits are special when they happen by making a choice, really big choices when physical distance is great.  So it has to be more than if, it’s when.  It’s more than have to, it’s want to.  It’s not just should, it’s do.  It’s not never getting around to it, it’s happening.  It’s not I saw them every Christmas; doesn’t count.  It’s not squeezing it in, it’s making the time, really allocating time to share my life with someone else.  It’s wonderful Christmas conjures up longings for family and friends.  Too bad it only comes once a year.

A Great Nothingness

In the movie, The Neverending Story, the world was being enveloped by “The Nothing”.  It has been described as a raging storm that takes things away and an emptiness.  I called the first place I landed after my husband died A Great Nothingness, so I’ll add my descriptions.  It’s a safe place for grief and shock to send me.  A place to do nothing.  A place of disbelief; not only unable to recognize reality, but unable to accept it.  A place with more questions than answers.  A place  where eyes stop at seeing; images unable to join the mind in comprehension.  A place where there is no giving up or moving forward.  A place full of thoughts, too many thoughts, that can’t quite come together.  A place with no thoughts at all.  A place without memories, old or new.  A place of no feelings; no joy or love, no sadness or anger.  Some would say, feeling nothing isn’t helpful.  I would say feeling nothing, for a time, is better than feeling something when that something is unbearable pain.  That pain did come, but more like sand though an hour glass than crushed in seconds by a dump truck load.

What Is

I’ve been picking up lots of meaningful lines from movies lately – from a Batman movie: “There is no true despair without hope.” To me true despair means total desolation or anguish, enough to push me to the edge, but not over; enough to want to give up, but don’t.  All because I can still see what could be, but can’t get past what is.  Is can be a great place to be, an acceptable place to be, or a place I don’t want to be.  If a great place, what could be will lose its luster.  If an acceptable place, what could be still shines, but there’s no hurry.  If don’t want to be, hope will shine its brightest, and bring along its friend, despair.  I’ve experienced all these places, but never where hope had totally disappeared.  I may have thought hope was gone, unable to noticed it, but it must have been there because I never moved past despair to resolved; total defeated.  I would be stuck in this “hope was gone” is for quite some time, not yet able to dream about what could be, until hope’s light grew bright enough to show me many better what is.

Rise

I recently heard this response as to why we fall – so we can learn how to get back up; how to rise.  Okay, but why do I have to fall at all?  Doesn’t being successful increase confidence and inner strength?  Can’t I learn from other’s mistakes or from scouring the internet for secrets of a successful life?  Is it true life includes a finite number of things to trip us up?  Is it true the internet holds the answers to everything?  Yes, yes, no, and no.  Confidence and inner strength gained through success can also be acquired from get back up and the amount of  information available seems infinite, but I can’t google, how did Jeff rise above each no and finish college, or how did Susan rise after the death of her husband.  It’s very possible another husband died at the same age as my husband, under the same circumstances, with the same home and family life.  It’s adding me to that scenario that makes my fall and rise unique; no one exactly like me.  If I can’t fall the same way, I can’t rise the same way.  Unique individuals; the reason for infinite ways to fall and rise.

Living, Not Life

It’s easy to believe in life, and to such an extent death is a shock.  I don’t have to remember to breathe or tell my heart to beat, my tummy shouts thirsty and hungry so I don’t have to remember to eat and drink, and bodies shut down after some point so I don’t have to remember to sleep.  With everything life does on its own, why wouldn’t I assume it continues.  It does, carrying along with it the impact of all my choices about what my body requires to keep it running.  But the brain energy it takes to maintain physically life is quite small.  Most brain energy is focused on all that living entails like happiness, meaningful, love, friendships, adventures, knowledge, and experiences.  With all that brain energy being expended, it’s hard to give even a tiny portion to death.  I know it will come, but I don’t have the brain capacity to care.  Until it happened to someone I love.  No, this can’t be.  Yes it can.  Why did this happen to him?  It happens to everyone.  Why now?  Why not?  Isn’t life, no matter how long, enough?  Not when I want living so much more.

One Sweet Moment

“This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us.” (Who Wants To Live Forever, Queen)  I thought about these words, if it’s true, and if so, what that moment would be.  I thought it might be something I would never ever want to be missing from my life, and that would be love.  Not everyone is born out of love, so that kind of love isn’t enough.  Not everyone is loved as a child.  I was, but I don’t remember, so that’s not it either.  I dallied in love in high school, not really knowing what it meant.  Love sank deep inside my heart upon meeting my husband; from the most amazing feeling in the world, to the greatest heartache, and everything in between,  and yet I can’t come up with anything sweeter.  It was the first time I knew my heart was for more than just beating.  I felt beautiful, special, important, needed and wanted, by someone who had no natural reason whatsoever to love me.  Different love came when I pulled children, and then friends, into my heart, and also acquaintances, special people who made dents in my heart.  Love – the icing on all life’s cupcakes – the perfect ones and the disasters.