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Archive for the category “Quickbits”

I Just Forgot To Swallow

Okay how much more insane can I be before I need 24 hour care? I sat there in front of the computer, and tried to do what was the right thing and take in my designated amount of water. Suddenly it was all over me, the desk, but fortunately not the computer.

I looked around for the culprit who had showered me with water from MY water bottle, which was securely in MY hand. There was no one. Still I was in disbelief. I was drenched and pretty-much gasping for breath. Suddenly it was clear what had just happened. I remembered unscrewing the top, I recalled putting the bottle to my mouth..then everything went wrong. The water was in my mouth pouring down my throat but something was not operating as it should be. It plunged down my throat in managed to go everywhere it should not go and completely avoid my esophagus.

If you have ever strangled you can imagine the panic I was stricken with for seconds that seemed to go on forever. Finally, I contained myself, and began to breathe normally. I wanted to ACTUALLY take a sip of water, but was reluctant. I wondered for a split second if I knew what to do with it now. I did what my granddaughter would say, faced my fear. I managed to do it right this time. I laughingly think about how that event happened and realized we can never take anything for granted.

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Remembering How To Feel

Loss is such an all encompassing experience. Your mind, body and soul are affected and they are affected completely. Having to deal with multiple loss in a relatively short period of time, one can grow numb. Your entire being can shut down and simply wander aimlessly through this process called LIFE.

One finds out the vicious truth- LIFE GOES ON; and if allowed your very being WILL, through assorted coping mechanisms, continue as well. To outsiders you will seem to be amazing and strong, when what you are in reality is someone who has simply succumbed to that which is out of your control. Left with no choices you chose the inevitable.

As time goes by, just like breathing or your heart beating, you find yourself once again navigating. However, you are forever changed. You may look slightly different; new lines on your face may identify places of some internal hurt, or the light in your eyes may appear dull and muted. While one may not be physically cowering in some lonely dark corner, mentally that very same corner may be a safe place.

In your effort to survive the pain you must somehow allow yourself back to a place that may remind you there is hurt ahead. It is a scary journey..coming back to the familiar and still occupying the sense of being lost. Your comfort now has a companion it keeps by it’s side always visible, always present. As you slowly remove the  protective coating you have to remember how and what it is like to feel again.

Mountain Top

I made my commitment to climb this summit in an effort to further my healing. I found and unexpected companion in my BFFA (best friend for always). Honestly I did not want to climb alone, I just did not know who I would suggest the idea to or ask. The best thing was I did not even have to ask her. Once again I was put in a spot of amazement, in awe of the special people who ARE in my life. People who just KNOW what you need and provide it to you without a second thought.

Note I said people and NOT a person. Let me tell you I was LOST a very few short months ago, I got the call and all that was said,” I’ll be there at 11:15, tell Carlton to come pick me up at the airport.” All I could say, the only word I could choke out of my mouth was, “Okay”.

BFF,BFFA, SisterFriend(s), family, friends….They boarded planes, they sent flowers, money, food, letters and gave support that I cannot begin to describe. When I reach the summit and release the balloons for my dear child THEY will all be there with me, in my thoughts. They will feel my love floating into their hearts from mine. I could have never made it without each and every one of them. I have to say God( although I am having a challenging time with Him) knew this and He made sure they were with me, one way or another.

!5 months after I began this piece I actually climbed Stone Mountain. My eldest son, his wife, her mom, my”daughter”, my granddaughter, grandson all came with me. We took the balloons. It was a clear perfect day after a week of off and on rain.  I cried as I wrote Jay’s name o the balloons, I let his only niece release them and we watched as they floated upward.

It was the right thing to do for me. It felt good, no matter how short-lived that feeling was. I know the lost feeling that loss leaves you with is forever a part of you. You must fight to rise above it, but some times, some days you really just don’t want to fight. Those are the day, those are the times you have to metaphorically climb to that “mountain top”, just for YOU.

LOSS-Vilomah

“As the gray-haired should NOT bury those with black-hair”

During your life have you ever done something you really did not want to do? I already know the answer. Be it apologize for something you really did not feel you did wrong, or have a meal with someone you really didn’t like; something inside of you  or outward conditions put you in that spot. You were left with an option though, even if/ even considering the consequences and/or outcome.

I wish I could write things are better, things are getting easier but I cannot.  A few short months into this HORROR I have learned many things, and many are NOT what you would call good. However, they are sources of knowledge and what is knowledge if not shared.

VILOMAH.  It is a word of the Sanskirt language as is the word widow. Translated  VILOMAH means against natural order…  VILOMAH describes what is now my life. VILOMAH speaks a different language that most of the time, only the unfortunate members of this tribe understand. A simple question,” Are you better?”no longer has a one or two word response. Feelings and emotions(happy;smiles) which are already faceted and complex, reach an entirely different level. ALL life will change, but my life has already changed into something I did NOT  want, I did NOT imagine, and I CANNOT escape. However, I now know my new role has a name. With that name came a great deal of sense and understanding. My change will never change. The widow can remarry, the orphan can be adopted. My status, my identity shall always be for all my days, VILOMAH.  I am not merely VILOMAH, I am other things as well. Yet by fate, by chance, by divine plan; I must “embrace” VILOMAH,  for it IS a part of me and I have no choice.

Laugh, Dream, LIVE

My goodness, seemingly every other day you are buying a lottery ticket. My eyes role upwards to indicate my sarcasm and disdain. I shake my head in disapproval and disbelief, but it is your money. Vacationing in the Swiss Alps, I say are you kidding me, nuthin up there for me.  Precisely!

As we venture deeper into this half-century mark and beyond, the changes become more and more evident, we are NOT like those who explored life in this era before us. We are not even like our old selves. Change no matter how we resist it, comes. We shall be Sexagenarians before we know it, and if we are fortunate.

Try not to focus on the negative, mind you this is not an infomercial or plug for positive thinking. I am NOT qualified, I can only tell you what I have seen and lived in first person. Others have unique experiences and perhaps those experience may make them ascribe to the positive-thinking philosophy. I only say that being negative or critical or suspect only gives you a perspective that matches your mood. If you do NOT do something to counteract this you will be swept into the whirlpool of the “downers”. No one wants to be a part of that community.

To the travelers, mountain climbers, and surfers; I say do these things and get your fill! To the players of games, sports, or chance;  I say do you someone IS going to win! I still scream with excitement as I ride my favorite roller-coasters. I am charmed by my little acrobat as she finds some other reason to be soaring towards the atmosphere.

LAUGH because it is good for you and those around you, DREAM because “dreaming is a form of planning” and LIVE your lives accordingly.

Reciprocate Whenever Possible

One of my wise dear friends once told me,” People will not always give you what you give them”.  Sometimes we get disappointed by the people who are in our lives. Family and friends not quite living up to your expectation, disregarding or taking advantage of you. I think we all can be a bit unreasonable and demanding. Our high expectations that are preceded by unspoken requirements lead to such disappointments. Then we are upset when these people we love and care about don’t do what we think they should. Our feeling of, “it’s only natural/or naturally” is unreasonable many times. You have to give folks the benefit of the doubt.

While you don’t want to have to constantly TELL individuals exactly what is on your mind, you also don’t want to instantly deduce them overlooking something is mean-spirited or insensitive. As members of the human race we are afforded a couple of flubs..daily. We have  to remind ourselves that maybe we make someone we love and care about feel the exact same way we are feeling in the now. It may NOT be the same loved one you are feeling neglected by either.

All of us have to do things, say things, fix things for one another. Know that those constant, regular payouts may never be reciprocated in volume or intensity.  Take slow deep breaths, give yourself a chance to gather up your feelings and regroup. As you give yourself a chance to look at your particular situation, yield to the issue you are dealing with knowing this does not mean the individual on the other side has emotions that are any less heartfelt.

Do Over

Ah yet another racist comment ends the career of another high profile being. This time it’s good-ole John Schnatter of “Papa John’s Pizza”. Wow this guy as with most of the others who got caught with their”pants down” , demonstrates what an apologetic burglar or murderer exhibits after their conviction..SORRY, SO SORRY; THEY GOT CAUGHT! When is this country going to learn that just because you can does NOT mean you should?

45, the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, fosters hate, deceit, and anger. The saddest part about that is, others who do not buy into his philosophies or practices are still subjected to them.  You lie, you are proven to be a liar and you deny or ignore. You say or do insensitive things, then you ask to be forgiven or overlook that bad thing I got caught saying or doing because it does not reflect how I really feel, who I really am…

How about this;

DON’T SAY OR DO THESE UGLY THINGS and then you don’t have to have vicious TRUTHS thrown in your face!

In adult world, there are no “do-overs” if there were I think many of us would be in that line for one reason or another. I love the 1970’s because we as a society had a “happy face” shown to us daily and it did not take long for us to embrace that sunny yellow smile. We were pleasant to one another(or we tried to be) , it was not looked down on because you cared how someone else felt. Today we have an orange frown shoved in our faces and we are seeing the damage it can do/is doing. We, who do NOT abide by the new standard 45 and his administration demonstrate, MUST fight and fight hard so it is a known fact we will NOT tolerate, INTOLERANCE. These types MUST be made to know, their ugliness is more of the exception than the rule.

Until There Was No Salt Left In My Tears

I cannot begin to tell you, I cannot begin to measure, all I know is in the midst of one of my many crying spells I noticed my tears were not salty. I asked myself were my tear ducts tired or was my body deficient in some other way.  What ever the answer, I did not care I just noticed the salty taste was no longer there.

Maybe there had been so many I got used to the taste. Maybe I was actually producing them at such a rapid rate my body did not have a chance to include the salt, for after all our bodies do function in many ways like and assembly line. However, I did have to abandon those thoughts, because in reality the salt/salty taste has more to do with the amount of salt in your body than with production of the tears. It sounded good, it was a little poetic, it was once again a demonstration of the fact that there is a deep hurt within me that comes out with or without warning, and sometimes/many times it is in the form of tears.

Crying is something I do not have to think about, it takes up so much of my time analyzing it was effortless and inevitable. Crying is an individual sport with me, meaning I do it alone. I approach it in a systematic, logical fashion; I say as I collapse into a puddle on the ground. Problem is this experience defies all I know, all I have been taught. There are no rules, no guidelines. Therefore, there is seemingly no help and everything is a testing ground.

I do see a change though, as the tearful spells continue to arise from seemingly nowhere for no apparent reason. Perhaps that is normal, and perhaps that is a part of my new “normal”. I am told by other parents who have lost children, year two is worse than year one. I appreciate that “they” do  not try to make folks who are a part of this group feel “better” instilling false hope. “They” tell you the real truth, your expectations are already nil. The hope you have is, to somehow survive this, and you are made aware that the only way to get through it is to go through it…”The fire that burns but does not consume”.  Hurt, pain, agony, and the common response to all of them…crying. With or without salt.

It’s Not Contagious

As I try to understand all that I feel and all I think regarding this existence that is now mine, crazy thoughts cross my mind. I guess, I am allowed a bit of crazy. No worries there, I have plenty.

The Grief; I wish someone could answer my questions or show me the direction I should be traveling in. I have heard the endless statement saying, ” There is no correct way..” I wonder if this is actually true or is it that the grief, in and of itself, is simply NOT correct. I KNOW I believe my source of grief just seems so very wrong, so very incorrect. I need a “do-over” I tell myself, for this was clearly an error.

We, the afflicted..we need to be sad, many times we want to be sad. As strange as that sounds it is a mechanism by which we will, perhaps be able to use to come through this thing.  YES our route is plotted, although in many respects it is NOT defined by nothing more than we must head straight through the pain.

We do hope that we do not run you away. We mask our pain and sadness, we avoid contact when we know it is all encompassing. However, as terrible as this is for us, you need to know it is not something we can pass on to you, there is no contagion involved. It may be superstition imposing itself upon you, it could be karma. or the teachings of your faith. Know this for certain, we would not do something to trigger what we are going through to you, even if was possible. Unlike the yawns of others or a wonderful laugh session..this belongs to us, the members of the club no one wants to be a part of, exclusively. We need you, we need you to witness us so that we can come back from this terrible journey and be there for another who will need to have the benefit of  someone who has been where they must go. Through the pain, toss out a lifeline, please.

 

Focus

I look around and see so many things that NEED to be done. I walk past items that need to be addressed. My phone has the alerts blowing up. I sit or stand in a stationary position unable to move, unable to think, unable to function. I wait for the items to take care of themselves, knowing full well that is NOT going to happen.

The laundry is getting done but the folding and hanging is not happening. The dishes are in the sink, but they still need to be washed or put in the dishwasher. The house is vacuumed, the pets are fed, these things need attention daily without a thought. Now, they require a plan which includes reminders. I realize this is perhaps how the hoarders and people we deem as strange may have begun. Just a simple state of being confused, or hurt, or stuck. Maybe it was tragedy that invaded their existence, maybe it was illness, maybe they just became overwhelmed and had no one or nothing to motivate them, to bring them back.

Searching for the place where concentration used to be, the place where things used to be accomplished, I now question whether I was ever able to make anything happen. I have this question because seemingly, getting things done is virtually impossible.

Riding along side concentration, or lack there of, is joy. They both appear to be getting lost, and a collision course with despair is clearly ahead. No one wants to be in these places; and for certain you don’t want to have people YOU care about in these places with or because of YOU.  Know your friends and/or loved ones are  enthralled in a battle, a battle of which they have never encountered before, and of which the outcome is still quite unclear.

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