Give It Away

A friend's father passed away last summer. It was after a long, drawn-out and painful battle with pancreatic cancer. He spent the last 6 months simply wasting away. Her father remarried many years ago to a lovely woman. And, for the most part the entire family got along quite amicably. That is, until he died.

What seems to be at the heart of the disagreement is that her father left everything to his new wife. Now, let me make this very clear, my friend and her two siblings could care less about money or even the bulk of the possessions. However, they want something, a small trinket of their father to remember him by. Additionally, these items might consist of birthday gifts, possessions that were directly linked to their life before she entered the picture and or even connected to his genealogy which should have no value to her. And yet, she is completely unwilling to part with anything, and certainly not these few pieces requested by my friend and her family.

I pondered this predicament. It makes me very sad for all of them. But it also brought to mind what I am unwilling to let go. What am I holding on to for some misplaced security or simply out of fear that should conjure up the same feelings of sadness about the state of my own soul?

In my early walk with Christianity, part of my hold out on believing in Jesus was that I felt I had to give up my old life. All the things that I held dear were now against the law, or so I thought. And, I wasn't ready to let them go. Life was not going to be enjoyable. I started my walk on some ridiculous tight rope of piety. But, as I grew in my faith, I began to understand how unimportant these things were to God. And, how much more important relationships are. When I recognized the traps of performance I jumped off the tight rope, landed in the net and started walking on solid ground. It was painless and superbly easy. As Paul says in Philippians, "But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things."

My advice to my friend was to just give it more time. She should make a kind request to her father's wife to please not dispose of his things without giving the children a chance to pilfer through. She may not know of a special memory tied to an item. And, for my friend, as time passes, the significance of the clock, the photo, the books, will diminish. I am certain that as the grief is dealt with, it will be easier for his wife to give it away, too.

I encourage each of us to look deeper into ourselves to what we are clutching so desperately to that is of this world. Possibly we are holding onto something that we aren't fully aware of its existence. It is so ingrained and embedded from years of this practice or behavior, we don't know it at all.

Like an onion, the outer layers of ourselves are dry and brittle, easy to peel and discard. In fact, they almost come off themselves. The early years of believing are like that, I think. Easy transformation, little knowledge. But as you get closer and closer to the heart of the onion, the layers are tighter, tougher, more compacted and unified to the core.

Somewhere over the last year, I reached a point where I thought, well, I have dealt with a lot of those transgressions and the sins that held me hostage. Those chains don't hold me anymore. I am in pretty good shape. And then, God used people and circumstances to force the examination of layers around my heart once again. Those layers that separate me from the fullness of His love and grace.

I have walked a few years as a believer, some 12-13 years. As I journey this road, I have discovered that to relinquish more and more of myself is increasingly difficult. Rather than deal head-on with what God brought into the light, I chose to walk away. I found myself trying to find those old peels, searching through the stinking filth of the wastebasket because it was just a bit more comfortable than facing the truest part of myself.

But there is no walking, skipping, or running away. Those old peels will never feel good again. I ask...God forgive me. I am ready and willing, in prayer and meditation, to give it all away for You.

There is loss and then there is Loss. There is grief and then there is Grief. What differentiates between the two? Is solely the connection between the two people. Or do you factor in the journey to death, the story behind the loss? Is it worse to have the knowledge the you are dying? Or is that fact harder on the ones surrounding you? Is it worse to not have the chance to say goodbye to those that are left?

I have been a bit shocked to have experience levels of sorrow and depression this year that would rival the first month of her passing. It rattled my brain and my body. It has been 2 years, and yet, there were moments this past week when I couldn’t exhale without tears and crying. I can look back at the last year and see very few moments of sadness. I could talk about her without any emotion, no tears, not even watering. I could recollect tough times in our relationship almost from the outside looking in. Those on the receiving end of my verbal recollection would react with tears and sniffles while I stood there unphased by what I was saying.

Death is a crazy thing. It makes people behave to the antithesis of their character. They make terrible choices in grief. They can’t think clearly, the grief masking reality, marring their ability to anticipate consequences. Sometimes they chose to forget all that they knew when their loved one was living. That which brought closeness in the last stage of death or in the birth of the grief is gone.

Grief is cyclical. There is no reasoning to the cycles, when they appear, their order, their presentation. Grief circles are sometimes small and sometimes all encompassing. They arrive in the form of anger, sadness, depression and even antipathy.

I am sure that there are a few in my midst who think that I should be over it by now. Controlled in my sorrow and grief and memories managed.

Is suffering comparable?

Does any one really know the levels of another person’s sorrow?

Signs of a Lighter Heart

A tough week last week. I didn't write much, didn't think much past my own sorrow. I am working on getting back into the groove this week. Much of the sadness is behind me which actually is very interesting. I mean, does a passing day really make that much difference? Topic for future post.

A habit I am trying to establish is to make a list of what brings me happiness and joy on a regular basis. Focusing on the positive, not the negative. Gains instead of losses. God's blessings even if small. And so...here it is:

1. "I Will Survive" by Gloria Gaynor. I recently heard this song on the radio and not only did it pump me up in a major way, it brought back a flood of wonderful memories of my year in the Netherlands with a group of girls (I call all my friend girls) that are still very close to my heart. That song was our mantra while being immersed in a different culture, far from home and families. A remix of the song was very popular in the bars that year and so we belted it out regularly. But, this time I also heard myself singing it in a new light. Instead of singing this to my independent spirit (the original intent by Ms. Gaynor), I sang this song to my grief, loneliness and depression which seemed to appear with such force I was knocked to the ground. Here is a snippet of the lyrics for those that don't remember.

and so you're back
from outer space
I just walked in to find you here
with that sad look upon your face
I should have changed my stupid lock
I should have made you leave your key
If I had known for just one second
you'd be back to bother me

Go on now go walk out the door
just turn around now
'cause you're not welcome anymore
weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye
you think I'd crumble
you think I'd lay down and die
Oh no, not I
I will survive
as long as i know how to love
I know I will stay alive
I've got all my life to live
I've got all my love to give
and I'll survive
I will survive

2. Loving little Dixie, our dachshund puppy. She has brought such delight to my day, despite the lack to total house training and even a bout of vomiting. I could let her sleep with me, curled up, every night. I just found her snoozing on top of a laundry basket full of dirty clothes sitting in the sunlight.

3. A scarf. I received this scarf just the other day. It is made from Ansley's clothes. The first Christmas after her death, I had a lady make Colby and Gray quilts of their mother's clothing. Anyone who knew Ansley is well aware of her eclectic and fashion-forward taste in clothing. The quilts were amazing. There was enough material left for 3 more quilts so intended to have more made for my own 3. Last week the quilts arrived along with several surprises - 2 teddy bears and 2 scarves. They are gorgeous and I think my new wardrobe will consist mainly of blues and browns in order to wear the scarf every day.

4. My little Sadie, with her two front teeth missing. I can't look at her without smiling, no matter what is coming out of her mouth. Well, almost.

5. My little Lily's acceptance of a new discipline technique, the marble jars. Thanks, Beth, for that suggestion. She is working so hard at changing her whining, crying and fit throwing. I am amazed at the changes in a mere 4 days. Chuck E. Cheese, here we come. Ok, so that is NOT on my list of happy thoughts, but it is her reward once the jar is full of marbles.

6. My little Ethan's request to snuggle, even at age 8. I went out of town for the night on Valentine's Day. Upon my return, he just wanted to sit close to me with his head on my shoulder and talk.

7. My friends. Yes, you! What an outpouring of thoughts, well-wishes and love on Friday. I felt very, very blessed and loved on a day when I was floundering in the deep. Never underestimate the impact this can have on someone.

8. Peanut Butter pie. Had a divine slice at the beach. Whipped, light, pb mousse with an oreo cookie crust, topped with chocolate morsels. Sinful.

9. The squirrel is OUTTA HERE! A week ago Jay fixed the squirrel cage to a wooden squirrel box he had fastened to a tree. We let the squirrel get acclimated to his new surroundings for a week. On Saturday, Jay removed the bottom of the cage so the squirrel would be able to roam, forage and most likely get eaten at his leisure. I know, I am terrible.

10. And, finally, but not least by any measure, my forgiveness. Over the past several months I have allowed my mind to move away from Him and onto earthly things. It has been more than a struggle. It has been soul wrenching. I brought it to Him over the weekend and well, you guys know. I am back in the fold. Still working out the details, but definitely moving back to where I need to be. God is good!

Thoughts in grief

Today is ok.
I am going to be ok.
This is not as bad as I thought.
I will keep myself busy.
I hope so-and-so doesn't call.
I hope so-and-so does call.
Only one winner.
Why didn't he say anything?
Who has forgotten her?
What was her smell?
Is she really gone?
Why can't I get anything done.
Why did I make an impossible task?
Why do I cry upon exhaling?
Why is there no laughter?
I want to laugh.
I don't want looks.
I don't want pity.
I want her.
Today is ok.
I am going to be ok.
Maybe.

I don't have much to say. At least not here. My writing has taken a definite leap into deeper and some what darker places. One day maybe these private entries will find their way into some sort of novel or article, who knows?

I am gearing up for Friday. Two years she will have been gone. Much more emotional this year. I am not very stable and well, for someone who LOVES control, this is somewhat of a death statement.

I spent this weekend with some ladies from our church at a retreat. It was very relaxing, full of wonderful teaching and as predicted...emotional. I had quite a bit of mental distraction going on so I am not sure that I fully inhaled what was presented. Maybe just a whiff here and there. But, in the midst of it all, I asked my friend, Beth, who I met when we were both pregnant with our second children, nearly 8 years ago if I would be considered a "crier," you know, emotional. Her emphatic answer, "NO! But, you should be."

I concluded that because it seems I cannot walk around these days without a tissue, I am in fact, going through "something." This is not the first something, but a cycle that seems to have started when she was still alive and has become more frequent since her passing.

Another conclusion I have drawn is that I am beyond being able to get this under control using only my abilities. Challenging my independent self to the core. This is extraordinarily painful to admit. I hate myself for all the times I looked at someone "emotional" and thought why can't they just pull it together? Just, "suck it up." Wow. Get a load of that mercy. Think there is an award out there for the most merciless person on the planet. Some things are truly out of one person's control.

Plans are in place to help me, aid and assist me in this journey and for once, I welcome them with arms wide open.

A February Conversation

Pushing Lily on the swing at the playground. The air is tepid, not too warm. The weather tempting and teasing us as leaves are not yet on the trees. Buds have not yet even formed on the branches – still barren and harsh, jagged. Exposed. Her hair in two pigtails, tied up in white bands. The fine wisps of hair framing her face, floating like feathers in the breeze…dancing in rhythm with the movement of the swing. Back and forth. In and out.

Lily talks and sings. Her made up little melody sweet and discordant. I don’t care. It is joyful to me.

She asks: Mommy, when I grow up, I marry Keegan?
Me: Well, why do you want to marry him?
Innocently, she answers, "Because he is nice to me. And, he lets me play pirates with him on the playground. Can I marry him?
Me: Lily, you have to be a grown-up to get married.
Lily: Some in my class are 5. I am not 5.
Me: That’s right, but you will be 5 soon enough.
Lily: Why does it take so long to grow-up?
Me: It will be here soon enough. Being little is great, Lily." I wanted to add, it is easy and simple, but she will know that herself soon enough.
Lily: I want to be a grown-up.
Me: Why?
Lily Because you are a grown up, Mommy. And, I love you.
If only life stayed so sweet and innocent.

Scraping and clawing at the dirt
She cultivates life's needs
Fingers nimbly work and are
dirty and moist.

Roots and twigs entangle
Jagged rocks cut and bruise
Black, thick mud fills
the time worn wrinkles of her hands.

She sits exhausted and consumed
The work more than she planned
Sweat beads on her brow
She sits back on her soiled knees.

Her face raises to the sun
Its warmth fills her
Her eyes close in response
the heat pouring over her face and body.

She leans back
arching her neck
She is satisfied.

She feels the coolness of the earth
between her toes and her eyes open
the work is always before her
Her hands dig deep, toiling once again.