Saturday, August 27, 2011

Before...and After

The Before...

Hurricane Irene

Before I get too deep into this post, let me reassure those of you who are here because you are concerned about how Hurricane Irene might be impacting us.  We here in the Piedmont of NC are high-and-dry, and only a wee bit wind-blown.  As of mid-morning on Saturday, we have had wind gusts reach 32 mph, and if any raindrops have fallen, they have escaped notice.

Now, that's a mixed blessing in a way.  We are sooooo dry here that we almost wish we could get some of that rain that is falling currently at the coast...over 6 inches already at Wilmington, which wasn't even in the direct path of Irene.  Further inland, before this is all over, there will be significant flooding, especially in the towns on the sounds. I noticed yesterday that they were letting water out of Oak Hollow Reservoir (close to our house) and into the oddly-named Deep River, I suppose in anticipation of getting more water coming in than it could hold?  Don't think that's going to be an issue, though.  Ah, well.

And now to the After of the title.

I am happy to report that Mr. T survived his first major earthquake and the aftershocks.  On Tuesday of this week when the 5.9 quake struck the East Coast, he was in the Richmond area (of ALL places...:-), about 6 miles from the epicenter, preparing for a New Dealer Installation.  He sent me a text right away...and that was my confirmation of what had just rattled our house here in HPNC, long before our own news channel began to report it.  I was just sitting down to a late lunch when the house and all its contents rumbled and shook...and I thought "was that an earthquake?"  Don't think I've felt one of those since my Memphis days!  Of course, I grew up practically on top of the New Madrid fault, so earthquakes like this one were not unusual.  He, on the other hand, has only felt a few in his lifetime...and none as strong as the one this week.

As an aside, I do have to report something I read in the GSO paper on Wednesday.  They couldn't tell us what the magnitude of the quake was in the Piedmont.  Know why?  Well, it seems that the seismometer at NCA&T (the only one in this area) wasn't even turned on.  "Didn't need it." Wonder if they've plugged it in yet, after the fact?

Well, three weeks after Momma's death, I feel as if I am stepping out of a fog into the sunshine.  As I mentioned in my previous post, I am concentrating on volunteering to draw me along my path through grief.  I have been participating in a variety of Master Gardening volunteer activities and have signed up for several more.  One of the major commitments I have made is to be on a committee of three that will bring the new Earthkind(r) Rose Trial Garden to life over the next year...a first in the state of North Carolina!  I won't go into great detail now; you will be hearing way more about that in the next 12 months, I'm sure. If you just can't wait, follow that link to the home of the Trials at Texas A&M. (Oh, I know that set one Aggie's heart a-flutter, didn't it?  :-)

And yesterday, I had my first session with Amanda, the Hospice Bereavement counselor...lovely lady.  Thankfully, she had boxes of tissues placed strategically about her office; however, I didn't need quite as many of them as I had anticipated.  She asked me several thought-provoking questions, listened to my answers, and in general made me feel that I was on the right track.  She gave me some suggestions and a reading list.  I will have another one-on-one session with her, then I will join a group called Healing Hearts.  More on that in future posts, too.

I can also report that I have made it through the clothes in Mom's closet.  ATT, my BFF from childhood, gave me some great advice based on her own grief experience:  don't be too quick to complete this chore.  After her mother died, circumstances required her to move quickly on going through her Mom's things, and now she wishes she'd been able to take a little longer. Thanks, A, for sharing that with me...and giving me permission to slow down!

It's so much better to know these things before...rather than after, don't you agree?

Friday, August 19, 2011

Today is the First Day...

Today is the first day...of the rest of your life?  You know, I never really understood that saying, the original of which was attributed to 60's Synanon cult guru Chuck Dederich.  But it made a great marketing slogan, didn't it? My roommate at USM in the early 70's had a poster with that saying, and I used to stare at the words and try to understand them. Over-analyzing them..something I have been accused of doing with probable cause, I would wonder: Well, of course...isn't every new day the "first" day of the rest of your life?  Silly, really.

I prefer to think of it in other terms...

Don't let yesterday use up too much of today.
~Cherokee Indian Proverb

or, possibly even...

Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. And today? Today is a gift. That's why we call it the present.
~Babatunde Olatunji, a similar version is also attributed to Alice Morse Earle


Hey, I love history...and I love a good mystery.  And what's not to like about presents??

Anyway...

Today is the first day... in a very long time that I awoke after 8 full hours of sleep.  Granted, I roamed the house until after midnight and didn't get to bed until nearly 1:30 a.m., and it took me a little while to settle down and fall asleep.  Since Mr. T was out of town, I was on my own for the first time.  He's been so good about scheduling and rescheduling...and re-rescheduling his work in order to get back home for the night, so I wouldn't be alone overnight.  Well, as alone as one can be with 3 rather large hounds in the house and on the bed.  But, last night, tag...I was it.  And I didn't particularly care for being it. So, there is work to be done in this area.  Still, work can always be done better on a good night's sleep, don't you agree?

Today is the first day... I made coffee for one.  Before June 9th, even when Mr. T was out of town, Momma and I had our morning coffee, usually made in the French Press instead of the drip-o-lator. I used to do 4 scoops to a whole carafe filled with boiling water, and it was just right...meaning it was a bit on the strong side, which is how I prefer my coffee, since I typically drown it in milk.  Ahem.  After Momma went to the Hospice Home, I just got my coffee fix in their kitchen; I even kept a "real" coffee mug there so I wouldn't have to use a Styrofoam cup.  So today I put a couple of scoops of Eight O'Clock's Columbian in the bottom of the French Press and poured it about half-full of boiling water. Hmmm..not quite right.  I still have some work to do on those measurements.

And, today is the first day... I laughed instead of cried when I forgot.  I was loading the laundry, and before I pressed the Start button, I headed into Momma's bathroom to gather her basket of dirty clothes to add to the machine.  Got all of the way from the laundry room to the bathroom door before I realized what I was doing.  Oops.  I am happy to report that no tears were shed at the time.  I just shook my head, turned on my heel, and chuckled back to where I'd started. 

Don't get me wrong...I'm quite capable of an afternoon shower or two, especially while reading the sweet and comforting cards that are still arriving in our mailbox daily.  But, even that is getting better.  Earlier this week, I received a card from a Master Gardener friend from Greensboro...a classy & sassy woman, who has nurtured me through the internship process even though she scarcely has time to breathe because she is so busy, and who had not known Momma personally.  In it, she thanked me for sharing Mom's life story in the Tribute Picture Album...and then she wrote:  "sounds like she was a helluva broad...must run in the family!"  I'm not sure whether the tears were rolling because I was laughing so hard or what!  Way to go, JA! You made my day!!

Oh yes, dear readers, my grief is still present, front and center. I'm not going to get past it in a mere two weeks.  You see, I lost both my mother and my really close companion and girlfriend to cancer at the same minute of the same hour on August 5, 2011. And, my job as caregiver ended forever with her last breath. Talk about your life-altering changes.

But, I also know that I have an opportunity to write this new chapter, too. My fingers are poised over the keyboard, and I have a blank page in a new document and an unsaved file in a folder named The Rest of My Life. [That's the 21st century version of a clean pad of paper and a newly-sharpened pencil...:)]

What will my new chapter say? How will tomorrow differ from today? I'm not sure...yet. But, given some time and guidance, I'll be able to answer those questions and more.

Guiding me as I work through my grief, I have been tapping into available resources, especially the SUNRISE articles on the Shackelford Funeral Home's website.  In the one entitled About Grief...The Rebuilding of Life, I have especially connected with Suggestion #4, Create and Build a New Life for Yourself. Here's an excerpt (the emphasis is mine):

Many find volunteer work very fulfilling. This provides one with an opportunity to invest himself/herself in others which is very therapeutic and fulfilling. Once you pass through this gate you will be well on your way toward recovery, and it will be accompanied by a feeling of deep joy. Keep in mind that you are in control of your life and that you have the constant option of reviewing and revising your plans.
As an Extension Master Gardener Volunteer (EMGV), I have an abundance of opportunities to "invest (myself) in others."  I took advantage of a couple of those yesterday: a training class to learn the newest Speakers Bureau presentations in the morning, followed by a 3-hour shift on the Infoline in the afternoon.  It was so "therapeutic and fulfilling" that I signed up to be the presenter for several programs September-November.  I also have a couple of Gardening articles to write in the next few weeks.  I'll keep you posted on all of those.

And, I even though I haven't gotten Mom's rooms cleared yet, I am following the advice in Suggestion #2,  "Building on Your Beginning." 

As you make a simple beginning in your recovery you will slowly and gradually begin to regain confidence, balance, and self-esteem, and, in time, you will once again begin to feel alive. Remember, this process takes place gradually. Take things slowly and in stride. “Easy does it,” is a wise old adage that applies here. Do not be bothered by slight regressions. Progress does not occur in a steady, upward swing, but a gradual up-and-down movement that progresses upward.
My darling daughter reminded me that there was no hurry.  I made my way through a good portion of Momma's closet, but I just had to stop. Too painful. Too soon. But, at least I began.

And so, today is the first day... that I began to feel alive again.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Sharing

I created a Tribute Album to share at Nana/Momma/Edith's services, and I am doing my very best to try to share it with all of you. I hope you will be able to just simply click and find it (below)...but we all know there is nothin' simple about following technical directions on embedding code that were written by technical folks for us semiliterate-techies. Where, oh where, is my Instructional Designer Daughter when I need her??

For some reason, when the album loads (if it loads...:), it begins inside on Page 1.  So, you don't get to see the front cover.  Try clicking the left arrow to make it move back one "page."  There is an automatic play option, and it will even allow you to select "looping" so you can see it all over again.  Also, do use the "Full Screen" option in the upper right portion of the window to see the pictures a bit better.  [You can hit the ESC key to return to the regular screen after you are through viewing.]  Best o' luck on seeing the print, though...I can't read it, and I created the thing!  Trust me, if I could change it I would, but that isn't something I can control. Just put your own words to the pictures...or write me, if you have questions about any of them.

Here goes:




Well, I do hope it worked OK for you, and that you enjoyed it as much as I loved creating it. A labor of love, from start to finish, I assure you.

Up next, the Tribute DVD I made for the services.  I don't have enough physical copies to go around, so I'm trying to post it in an appropriate location to share.  I'll let you know...

Wish me luck!

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Just One More Thing

We are back, Mr. T and I.  Yes, it's now just the two of us. True empty-nesters. Well, except for the three Basset Beasties, of course.

It's been almost a week since I last posted.  Mom's services were held in Bolivar, TN, and she was buried in Bethany Cemetery near Whiteville on Monday.  "Put me between Nananny and Daddy" were her instructions, and that's just what we did.

Even though we had a thunderstorm in the morning, it had passed long before 2:00. It was almost everything August is advertised to be in West Tennessee: extremely hot and humid.  No haziness, though...it was a bright, sunny day. Friends and relatives surprised us with their numbers: since Mom was 91 and had outlived almost all of her friends and generation of kin, we hadn't counted on such a nice turnout...which we experienced for both the visitation on Sunday and the services on Monday.  Cousin M officiated over the services that he and Mom had discussed back in June when she first went to Hospice Home, including the solo by his son, Cousin S, who couldn't be there in person.  Never fear: Cousin M brought a CD with his solo, and it worked out just fine! Mom would have been pleased.

We even had 15 or so join us for a gathering afterward.  Mr. T had secured the Hospitality Suite at the Hampton in Jackson where we stayed, and Bro J arranged for the BBQ and sides for a nice meal to share. Looking around the room, it was interesting to note that the majority came from the Lunn side...but again, Mom had outlived all of her Keaton kin and most of her Stewart clan.  Still, it says a lot about a person when her husband (who has been gone for 21 years)'s family drives halfway across the state to come to her funeral, doesn't it?  Says a lot about what a great bunch they are, too.

Heading home, we took the opportunity of being in Tennessee to stop by and visit my 103 year-old cousin in Dickson. A. is recovering from injuries she sustained in a fall, but let me tell you something:  she looks fantastic!  She still has the most beautiful skin...just amazing!


"Why, dear.  Look what else's at the
Crossville exit...where we're staying..."
 We stopped for the night in Crossville, which is in a lovely part of Middle Tennessee, right on the eastern edge of the Central Time Zone.  It's also the same exit where The Yarn Patch (photo, left) is located...what a coincidence (as I attempted to convince Mr. T...:)!   Ah, yarn therapy.

We relaxed by opening a bottle of wine, toasting the future, and taking a swim in the pool.  I began to feel the Little Black Rain Cloud that has been hanging over my head for months gradually diminish. Slowly but surely.

We got home and were pleasantly surprised by the pups.  We used a pet sitter for the first time, instead of taking them to the Glammer Slammer (AKA: the kennel)...and they were amazingly calm.  Well, after we had rubbed in and handed out duck jerky, of course.  They do have expectations.

We read all the sweet cards and expressions of sympathy that had arrived in the mail while we were gone.  We listened to the voicemails from old friends who had just found out.  And, we even brought in a flower arrangement that had arrived the afternoon of our return.

And, I guess you might think that that's the end of that.

Of course, that's NOT the end of that. There are papers to be signed, cards and correspondence to be written and mailed, and accounts to be closed. Phone calls must be made. And, many people must be thanked. The To Do List gets longer by the minute.

But, except for one thing on the list, I think I can handle it all without too many tears.  It's just that one thing that's weighing heavily on my mind and messing with my emotions.

That one thing?  Cleaning out Mom's rooms and closet. I haven't been able to do it yet, even though she has been gone from our house since June 9th...9 weeks today, to be exact. It seems like such a small thing compared to my childhood friends who just lost their mother two weeks ago (and who came to Mom's visitation, bless 'em): they have her whole house to go through.  I only have a couple of rooms and a closet.  And, it's not like there's anyone pushing me to get it done on any particular schedule.

It's me.  I believe that cleaning out her rooms and closet...deciding what to do with her possessions...is the major stumbling block for me moving ahead with my own life.  And, I am ready to move ahead.  I think.

Maybe I can break that one thing down into little bitty things.  Closet on one day.  Dresser the next.  Chest-of-drawers the following day.  And so on.  You know...the "only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time" method of getting a big job done. 

Hey, it's worth a try.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Sorrow...and Joy

I cannot sleep.  Believe me, I have tried.  Four times now, I have gotten in bed, slipped under the covers, closed my eyes...and nothing. Sleep will not come.  Not even a glass of wine helped.  Not tonight.  Too much on my mind.  This is one of the days that will be etched into my memory forever.  Friday, August 5, 2011.

Twenty-four hours ago, almost to the minute, I was sleeping as soundly as a stone...exhausted from my afternoon/early evening shift staying with Momma at Hospice Home of High Point.  She had several terrible hours when she was fitful, restless, appeared very uncomfortable, and extremely agitated.  "Terminal agitation," it was called by the staff.  "Normal," they assured me.  "Scary," I assured them. Finally, finally in the late afternoon, the nurse came in to say the doctor was increasing the levels of both morphine and the two anti-anxiety meds...again.  And, as had happened the day before, the change seemed to do the trick.

The nurse also told me that they were at the maximum amount of morphine that they could give (20 mg/hr in the morphine pump); they were switching to another medication that evening.  Dilaudid.  If it would work, I was all for it.

Mr. T came at 7:00 to relieve me.  He brought Taco Salads for dinner, so we could share a few minutes of normality in the Family Kitchen.  I would head home for some sleep, he would stay for the next six hours, and then Bro T would relieve him for the overnight shift.  That was the plan.

However, when midnight rolled around, the night nurse urged them to call me. The signs were all there. It was time.

Thankfully, Mr. T came home to wake me and drive me back to Hospice.  It would be the last time we made that 8 mile trip.

Momma passed away calmly and peacefully this morning at 4:00 a.m., with Mr. T, Bro T, and me by her side.  We made sure to surround her with love as she departed this life.  I was able to sit with her, play music for her, and hold her hand until the very last breath.  I had never had this experience, and frankly was a little afraid.  But now, I can only express how thankful and blessed I feel for it.  After the nurse had listened for a heartbeat for the final time and found none, I was able to open the patio door to Momma's room to release her spirit.  It was a beautiful star-lit night...and a wonderful memory.

Of course, the next few days and weeks will be difficult.  There are so many things to do when a loved one dies...and your name and telephone number are at the top of everyone's lists.  True to my nature, the first thing I did when I got home this morning was start my To Do list...and then start making assignments.  Once bossy, always bossy.

And now, with everyone working together, most of the To Do's have been checked off.  Things are falling into place quite nicely.  But, when I really need my sleep, I cannot turn off my brain...or my tear ducts either, for that matter. Silly me, I thought I was well-along in my grieving process; now I'm learning the truth in the statement:  "no matter what, you are never really prepared to say that final goodbye."

Yes, there is sorrow for having to say that final goodbye.  But, there is joy also.  Joy, that Momma is at peace; joy that she has no more pain.  And, joy, that she has made that transition from this life to the next...and left us with so many, many wonderful memories.

===================================================================
Here is the link to her obituary on the Shackelford Funeral Home's website:

http://www.shackelfordfuneraldirectors.com/obituary.php?client_id=8102

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