Help for Healing

Bitter & Sweet, living daily with grief


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Blue Thanksgiving?

This week I was cleaning out my closet to continue my efforts to purge and minimize where possible. It brought me to my two memory boxes of Tim. Every once in a while as I go through them, time passes and I notice that some things that seemed important to keep at first, don’t seem that important later. I think that is a natural part of the passing of time.

This time, I found myself looking with the perspective of having tried to become as paper-free as possible over the last year. This led to a boatload of scanning. I had over 80 scans by the time I was done, the largest one being 25 pages. (Thanks Stef for showing me how to top-load documents!)

Overall, as the days passed, I knew I was melancholy and sober. It wasn’t just reliving my husband’s death, it was reliving the loss of my church family as well. But the deepest wound by far, was finding one of Tim’s treasures he had saved. He had a couple of Christmas tags in Mom’s handwriting that said, “To Tim, From Mom and Dad.” A wave came over me as I said in a whisper, “My God, all three of them are gone, completely gone.”

Today I had to go to the Hospice campus for something. They have done lots of remodeling. Their already nice facility is even more beautiful and more convenience-friendly. But I didn’t even make it back to my car without calling Michelle back and dumping a whole bunch of tears on her.

She asked how I am overall. Lost. I feel lost and orphaned. Both parents gone, a spouse gone. Geeze, I know lots of people are in the same boat, but I’m super in touch with my own grief right now. It’s mine, and it’s intense. Why does this stuff always happen around the holidays? That familiar stomach ache. That familiar hollow feeling I know so well. Only it is carved even deeper now. That feeling like this death aged me another ten years ahead of my time. 

I laugh when I job hunt and I hear dumb things like I don’t have experience with some of this stuff. The hell I don’t. I have gobs of it. Not as much as some, but more than a lot of people. I’m not feeling a pity-party at the moment. Just letting folks out there know that if you are in grief, don’t let anyone tell you there is a time limit to it. You’re allowed the rest of your life. It’s okay if the holidays are bittersweet at best. That about sums up life in general anyhow. Let yourself show the courage to taste both ends of the spectrum.

It can still be a Happy Thanksgiving, even when you’re shedding some tears.


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The Christmas Queen

This time of year, I’m known as the Christmas Queen. I hate the thought of Christmas presents, but I love the media stuff. Thanks to my OCD, I am also known more as the Christmas Nazi. That is because I HAVE to do the following every year:

Read every Christmas book I have
Listen to every Christmas record I have
Watch every Christmas movie I own
Listen to every Christmas CD I have
Play every piece of Christmas piano music I have

My friend Darren knows this about me so last year he sent me an external drive with his Christmas collection. This year I got it open and let me tell you, he makes me look like a Christmas Scrooge. He sent audio books, dozens of movies, and about 4,000 Christmas songs!

You can see why I had to start at the beginning of November. There are several things that I enjoy, but wouldn’t particularly want to visit again every year. And I’m learning lots of things, probably only interesting to me.

1- When it comes to audio books, I prefer actual readings vs. additional voices and sounds to dress it up. Patrick Stewart’s reading of A Christmas Carol is awesome, which is of course followed up by watching the movie with him as Scrooge. The exception is The Grinch. Having those fun songs throughout the reading is a definite bonus.

2- When it comes to movies, I was surprised by a few. Curious George and The Smurfs actually have repetitive worthy specials that I thought for sure were going to be on the one-time only list. Tim was particularly unhappy when he came home last week to my announcement that we needed to talk. I told him I still loved him dearly, but my heart has expanded and I am also in love with another man as well. ANDY WILLIAMS! My, what a heart-throb. He is so dang handsome and has the most beautiful eyes. (Well, so does Tim for that matter!) Tim pointed out that he is old as dirt and I pointed out he is still pretty damn handsome with his salt and pepper hair.

3- As for music, I found I am not quite as eclectic as I thought. Darren has brought my attention to all types of genres that I didn’t even know were out there. I found the B.B. King file and figured I would love him but discovered I didn’t care for his style at all. The big surprise was Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, who I had never even heard of and would have thought would have been a big no. Turns out I loved them. Lou Rawls voice is as hot as they come. And my favorite find so far, is Julie London, who I also didn’t recognize. She does a song called, “I’d Like You for Christmas” that is so sexy and sweet, I almost woke Tim up at 2 a.m. to dance with me. He said he appreciated my wisdom on not following through.

While you might think this a monumental waste of my time, I have found a way to make this useful. If Darren can put movies on a disk, then I can too. I can add to the drive and dispense of my DVDs which is consistent with my desire to keep getting rid of “stuff” in any way possible. Plus, any books on audio, I can get rid of those as well. See? It’s such a good use of my time 🙂

This was an indulgent blog about my own quirks, but a non-depressing theme is ok once in a while, isn’t it?


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Agony of De-Feet

I have been told throughout my life that I have very pretty feet. It’s a consolation for having a stomach that makes everyone and their sister ask me if I’m pregnant. At least my feet are nice. I have to say though, they definitely have taken a beating.

Remember this from 2012?

Darcy's foot xray

That picture was worth re-posting. That was David’s 10th birthday when I stepped on a nail when doing yard work. (No, I obviously didn’t have shoes on. Did you have to ask?)

Two weeks ago I had a second foot surgery. My doctor asked me if my surgeon knew how I was. You know, never stopping or sitting down. I told her of course he did because he did my other surgery. Besides, I’ve slowed down a lot over the years.

Today I went in to get my stitches out. I knew it was going to be ugly because I know what a baby I am. What I didn’t expect was how awful it looked. I had Tim take a picture because I knew you would want to see it too.

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First of all, it makes my foot look ginormous. They are actually not very big. The marker is from the doc when he did the surgery. All the purple though, is bruising. No, it usually isn’t that bad for most patients.

I don’t mean to be a bad patient. I really don’t. I’m not trying to be a hero. I don’t want any more damage to be done. I was pretty proud of myself for being as still as I have been the last two weeks. But the more we talked, the doc just kept shaking his head at me. He wondered why I didn’t actually follow the written instructions he gave me.

The second week, I just assumed things were “as needed” (even though it wasn’t written that way) so no, I hadn’t been taking the anti-inflammatory medicine three times a day. No, I haven’t been icing twice a day. I wonder why the foot is swollen and inflamed?

Yes, I did go to Dave’s cross-country meet by myself, on crutches, in the rain where it was so muddy and slippery people were falling. But I couldn’t miss it, right? And yes, Tim and I painted the bathroom last night and Tim doesn’t do trim so yes I had to be on the ladder.  Oops. Ok, I guess I didn’t do as well as I thought.

By the way, I was only using one crutch for the last week because it was easier. Turns out I was using it under the wrong arm. Duh. I honestly had no idea. That one wasn’t my fault. And it’s just unfortunate that I was using it under the shoulder where I am already in Physical Therapy three times a week for it. But hey, I stopped going to therapy so I could take it easier these last couple of weeks.

Sigh.

I admit it. I’m not the model patient. But if they only knew how good I thought I was being because of all the things I DIDN’T do!!