Selfishness

   It feels strange to write about things that are truly and deeply personal to me when I can't put it into third person. If there isn't a nugget of wisdom or insight that I think worth sharing, I really don't know how to approach it. The 'real kicker' here is that it is really the bones of my life right now. So, I deal with it by writing. Maybe I won't press the "Publish" button. But.....if you're reading this, well then, ......... I guess I did.
   I'm struggling with allowing my emotions this week. I'm more than a little sad and angry. My younger brother died suddenly on Monday. It's not that his death was unexpected. He was very sick and had lived longer (and stronger) than all reason. Even with that, I WAS blind-sided by it's suddenness, I think we all were.
   Early in my life I took on the role of 'pleaser' and 'caretaker' and now I am paralyzed by my inability to take care of myself. I want to throw something and cry and plead for a pause in the turning of the earth, just one solid hour of complete uncontrolled release. And to complicate matters, many things make me angry. Not just my brother's death, but every unfair thing that is happening in the world today. I still can't let it out.
   The selfishness of the release is what holds me back from even one good soul-baring cry. I rationalize that I don't want to take away from anybody else's grief. The thought that my actions may overshadow someone else that needs more support brings me anxiety. Why don't I think I deserve to let it go? What would be the real cost of my tears and my anger and my grief?
   I don't know. More importantly, I don't want to find out. So......, the tears sneak out a few at a time and I wipe them away quickly. It's almost two in the morning and my husband has long ago gone to bed, so there is no real risk involved with a good quiet cry, but I can't even manage that.
   It's Wednesday (it's really Thursday morning, but I haven't said good bye to Wednesday yet.) and the last two days seem like four. The events set for tomorrow and the next day are 'later this week' in my mind. I keep saying things like "the other day" even though the instance to which I am likely referring may have occurred just this morning.
    My son, daughter-in-law and granddaughters were over for pizza and play time at the park only hours ago. It felt good to watch them play and see their smiles and feel their hugs, the first bit of normal I've had since Monday. While I long for normal, I know I need to feel the pain and the anger and let myself begin to grieve so I don't get stuck here in this place in my life between was and is. So, for now, I am praying for sleep to take over.

How do we live in the change

   Every event in our life creates a period of transition. For many events it can be a matter of minutes, others may require years. And then there are some that seem to throw our lives into perpetual transition.
  Yesterday, some of my family and I stopped by the funeral home to begin the preliminary arrangements for my brother's services. Most had been prearranged, thanks to my older brothers, who had the foresight years ago to sit down with him and work them out. As the director verified information necessary to begin the home's duties, the questions caused my mind to spin. My thoughts were in present terms AND past terms and some answers came in both, at the same time.
   I don't yet know what my brother's death will do to our lives. We are still adjusting to my other brother's death two years ago. How do you go from having six siblings to having five then four?  Well technically, you don't. My brothers are still my brothers. They just don't walk in this life any longer. There is some comfort in that, but it doesn't help the awkward moments when someone innocently asks, 'Do you come from a large family?' I used to enjoy that question.  Now it causes me to pause, sputter and stammer. I know the next question is usually "do they all live here?" How do I truthfully answer that question without making the inquirer feel bad?, without making me feel bad? My mother knew this would be my burden. Many times she told me I shouldn't wear my heart on my sleeve. That when I expose my feelings so easily I give away the power in my relationships. (Pretty ironic for someone with control issues, right?)
   This transition, this new status is what my family and I face for the rest of our lives, it isn't a choice. Thankfully, I know we will get through it and it will bring us closer. For this 'family strength', I thank my parents. For their love and unwavering support, I thank my brothers and sisters and their spouses-my other brothers and sisters. I love you all so very much, you give me continued hope and courage.

Our Journey Continues

   A year and a half ago, when I started this blog, I could have predicted this entry would be written, at least at some point. It seems it was inevitable.
   This morning shortly before breakfast time, my little brother took his last breath. We, his daughter, my brothers and sisters and I, were all caught off-guard.  The subtle signs were there. He had been getting progressively weaker, more tired and certainly less stable on his feet. But........., there were appointments on his calendar that needed to be kept. There were events he(we) still had planned to attend.
   Of course, none of those things matter now. Really the only thing that matters is that his struggle and pain are over. I wish I could say that makes this easier, but it doesn't.  I wish I could say the length of this journey has given us time to reconcile with his death, but it hasn't. As much time as we've had to talk about it, to rationalize, to plan, to offer each other our support, it's still never enough time to prevent the wound to our hearts. I can't predict how long it will take..... a lifetime I imagine. 
   And this part of the journey goes on for those of us left.  My brothers and sisters and I, along with our extended family, our children and their children will continue to hold each other up and urge each other forward until the next journey begins.
  

Lost and Found

Watching the crowd and listening to the stories in the music. I sat there, drawn into the shadows. I was allowing myself to lose control and it didn't concern me. In that moment, lost pain from fear-filled minutes of uncertainty in my early years spilled into my consciousness and I felt the air rush out of my chest. Yet, instead of drained and deflated, I felt weightless, I was floating.
I didn't understand before that very instant, what I long considered a single bad memory was, in reality, trauma.
Life altering trauma.
Unrecognized and unnamed. 
I allowed it to wash over me........... and tears fell softly and easily. It didn't last long and it felt like a redefinition of part of me. And when that moment was over, there was complete peace. 
I reclaimed some of my innocence.

That darn irreversible knowledge

    It's been about five months since I've posted anything. I've had many thoughts pop-up that would have made decent topics of conversation, just never at an opportune time for writing about them. I checked in today to visit some of the blogs I enjoy following, to 'see old friends' and find out how they're fairing. I found a "draft" in my own blog that made clear to me why I took a little (or not so little) break.
    I wrote the following post months ago and don't even recall the event or facebook posts that triggered the reaction.
     I was going to delete it, but as I reread it, I thought it might mean more if it doesn't apply to anyone in particular, so here it is; from some time after February but at least a couple months before today.

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    I don't like to log into facebook as much as I once did.  The posts that take a stab at others with words meant to appear vague and discreet, yet only serve up bitter vitriol, seem to be appearing with greater frequency.
    The anger and sarcasm weakly disguised as general comments are not only obvious, but suck a measure of joy out of the positive messages and pictures I would otherwise enjoy. I try not to acknowledge the negative posts unless they cross an imaginary line I've drawn for myself. More and more I find myself avoiding the people who post them.
      I'm talking about the people that need to make negative comments to or about someone else on a regular basis to feel validated. Usually the anger arises from something personal, an unresolved issue in the past. An issue between the poster and the person at whom the anger is directed.
     I'm not talking about the people that are trying to get through a difficult time or event they've experienced, an unusual burst of anger. Those are the people to whom I reach out and offer support. I believe we all need some leeway for the human condition. We all need to know people care about us.
     Because my friends' list is made up of people that are important to me, I walk this line carefully.

The slower days of youth

     Remember as a kid, wishing you were all grown up so you didn't have to be told what to do? I wished away curfew. I wished away high school. I wished away dating and courtship. Since I started making my own decisions time has flown. I have some distinct memories of wondering what some point in the future would be like. All those future points are in the distant past. Like looking at my oldest son crawling around on the floor as a baby in the living room of our first house, wondering what he would look like when he was nine. "Nine" was nineteen years and three grandchildren ago. Two of those grandchildren are his children.
     Yesterday I built a snowman with my neighbor and played in the snow with her dog, "Jack". Today my body is reminding me I built a snowman and played in the snow with my neighbor's dog "Jack". But the amazing thing is, for the first time in a very very long time, at the end of the day I felt like I'd had more than a day's worth of activity (fun and tasking). I had to remind myself that I had one more day in the weekend. I think the key is to fill several parts of the day doing something you really enjoy. After building snowman, I came inside and made chili and put it in the crock pot to simmer all day. I had some quiet time to myself to read and watch an old western on TV. Then in the afternoon, we got to spend a few hours with our oldest and youngest granddaughters, playing, laughing and reading books. Later in the evening my husband and I enjoyed the chili and some quiet time together. The day was exactly how I'd always imagined this time of my life to be, pretty uneventful but an average amount of fun. I'll have more of those days,.......... please.

Is it really funny?

     I was listening to the "Late Show" tonight and found myself chuckling at David Letterman wishing Dick "Boom Boom" Cheney a Happy Birthday. Most of the country, maybe even most of the world, knows of the hunting accident that involved Mr. Cheney shooting a hunting companion in the face. I think partly I laughed at the cleverness of this roasting under the pretense of good wishes and partly I laughed at the bold naughtiness of Mr. Letterman's comments. Then it occurred to me, as light-hearted as he wanted us to believe his comments were intended, he was still poking fun at what had to be a very traumatic event in Dick Cheney's life. Dick Cheney likely is expected to take it all as a good natured ribbing, yet it must dig deeper than we could ever imagine.
     I think it would be most difficult to force a smile, even superficially about a mistake I made that caused another person pain and suffering. Of all the pain I have experienced in my life, that which I have inflicted is more of a burden to me than that which has been inflicted upon me. So in retrospect I question why I would find myself giggling at the misfortune of another, especially of this magnitude.
     I don't find other people's suffering at all funny. In fact it causes me great distress. I can only surmise this type of humor must be a measure of self preservation, a way to keep oneself from being consumed by the pain of others.