It's OK (Imagine Dragons)

digital art by Mike Parsons

Sunday was such a hard day, but I had a wonderful therapy session Monday; surprised she kept to the every-other-Monday schedule since it was Memorial Day, but glad she did.  I had forgotten that, when I first started with Leigh, I filled out some forms related to both depression and anxiety, and she asked if I was ready to re-answer those questions (maybe 7 in each category); for the former, I went from 17 to 3 and the latter 14 to 1.  D*mn.  That's progress.  Funny that, after celebrating my "test" results, I burst into tears, and queried where that came from, seemingly out of the blue.  Leigh responded that grief is like Florida weather:  gorgeous one minute, thunderstorms the next... or how sometimes it rains on one side of the street and not the other.  Sounds cliche but it was perfect.  Anyway, the 50-minute hour was exactly what I needed... 🤗

I left therapy and went to the Hope Garden to dump compost, long overdue since Claire and I decided to go to an every-other-Saturday workday, meaning we weren't there this past weekend.  I had my containers... plus Sarah's, Nancy's, Didi's, Pam's, and our heat wave continues; even at 4:15 p.m., it was in the mid-to-high-90s.  Our compost bins are all the way down at the end in the Banana Circle, which is mostly shady, but the effort still got to me and I had to lie down right there on the ground; I couldn't figure out if I was having a panic attack or a heat stroke, and I tried to stay calm and prone until the feeling passed.  Frightening.  Fortunately I had my phone with me, and of course I had left my water bottle in the car, but I did slowly make my way back to the cafe and bought my favorite Green Lotus smoothie (Pineapple, Spinach, Kale, Cucumber, Celery, Lemon, Ginger, Green Apple, Coconut Water) which helped lower my body temperature, and I still felt woozy when I got home... but stretching out under the ceiling fan in the A/C helped me turn the corner, and I soon felt perfectly fine.  Whew.

Takeaway:  grieving is not for sissies; nor is climate change.  Ha!

SONG:  It's OK by Imagine Dragons https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ClwtqeHF264 

BOOK:  Keep Moving: Notes on Loss, Creativity, and Change by Maggie Smith

POEM:  Dear World by Maya Stein

You are a big turtle. You are a violin bow and a ladder of backbones and a lettuce leaf. You are weeds and woodpeckers and a T-shirt with strawberries on it. You are the hint of a sunburn at the tips of noses. You are restaurant toothpicks and a bowl of pink-striped mints and bubble gum commercials and a crossword puzzle. You are the sound of the dryer going on Sunday nights, and the smell of erasers. You are dental floss and a roll of paper towels. You are a twist of Oreos with the icing licked clean off. You are pinky promises and video arcades. Dear world, you are also scratchy and full of tangles that no soap or comb can tease out. But you are also bright stadium lights and stovetop popcorn with real butter. You are a popsicle drip on bare skin. You are sprinklers, and drive-in movies, and fireflies in the middle of night. World, I am doing what I can to keep you here. I am growing my own tomatoes. I am pulling the weeds. I am writing a poem now and again. I am walking down to the rocky beach and wading in the water and I'm staying there, watching the crabs scuttle underneath, and I'm trying not to move. I'm looking up at the stars when they come out. I'm trying not to count them but instead, I'm holding them in my heart. Lightly, like a breeze. And then I try to imagine those stars like the squares on a turtle's back, and I wonder how many of them I could fit in my heart. How many squares. How many turtles. How many strawberries and Oreos and popsicles and fireflies. How many movies and lights. How many erasers and violins. And then, dear World, I start counting.

QUOTE:  “Here is one way to look at yourself through spiritual eyes: you are a message. When you wonder what existence is all about, when you ask about your purpose in life, or when you feel small in comparison to the troubles of the world: remember that you are a message sent by the Spirit into creation. What you say, what you do, how you think and feel: your whole life is a long and sustained message for others to encounter, experience and receive. You are a living message: sent to touch more lives than you can imagine.” ~ Steven Charleston

Edge of the Ocean (Stick Figure)

Today I Feel Like... indeed. March 26 is the six-month mark of Eric's death. All the feelings. Ack. I have watched this lovely 6-minute video created by John Teeto and E's other friends three times today, and I thought it might bring some comfort and joy here as well. We miss you so much, buddy... ❤️

I seem to have lost my concentration/focus for blogging.  Perhaps that means I'm experiencing healing to some degree, and don't depend on it as a coping mechanism as much as I used to?  Bereavement group every Monday sustains me, as does therapy every other Monday (I am making great strides sharing my honest thoughts as well as with EMDR).  I continue to express my gratitude for the best family-and-friends support system ever.  Regular get-togethers with Eric's pals (whether IHOP breakfasts or Bob Marley movie viewings) are lovely as well as comforting.

I am getting out of the house and engaging with others more often; still setting boundaries, being more discriminating as to how I'm spending my time, and not allowing myself to take on more than I can handle.

Besides the trip to see Dar Williams in Key West (early-February), I took another road trip with Nancy last week (this time to Brooksville) to visit our long-time friend Peggy-now-Maggie, who moved to Sweden many years ago and now resides in Finland.  We took her out to dinner, convinced her to spend the night with us at our hotel, and stayed up quite late talking.  Much hilarity as well as sadness ensued (her son William overdosed in 2020, so she "gets it").  I also gave her a pouch of E's ashes, as he has never been to Scandinavia... 🤣

Returned from there Wednesday night, went to Gary's Celebration of Life (he was a church friend, ran sound for the Labyrinth Cafe the last two years (2018-19), and coordinated the A/V at Eric's service.  An unexpected and altogether-too-sudden infection and death... 💔

Then Chico, Sarah, and I drove to Pensacola for my friend/college roommate Linda's daughter Rachel's (confused yet?) baby shower (a very long drive but well worth it).  We've stayed close over the years, and of course many memories were conjured, especially Sarah and I driving to Pensacola three weeks after Rachel was born, to meet her and to keep Linda and Craig company.  The Circle Game... 😍

An extra perk was that, on our way home, we stopped in Tallahassee to meet up with Melanie (Nick is in Texas tiling a bathroom!) at a local coffee shop for hugs and catch-up conversation... 💜

And now for Unpacking and Recovery!

P.S.  Eric's friends alerted me that Stick Figure was one of his favorite bands, and they are getting a group together to see them in August.

SONG:  Edge of the Ocean by Stick Figure

BOOK:  Walking Each Other Home: Conversations on Loving and Dying by Ram Dass, Mirabai Bush

POEM:  Somehow by Dorothy Chan

For Norman

You visit me in a dream after passing,

            after I’ve been awaiting you for weeks,

because Chinese belief teaches us our

            loved ones will appear when we’re asleep.

It’s real when I enter the hotel restaurant

            in the middle of nowhere town I live in,

as the Midwest architecture transforms

            into Kowloon at evening time. We eat

bird’s nest soup, and I remember the time

            my father ordered me this four-hundred-

year-old delicacy at Hong Kong airport.

            Out comes the Peking duck, and I ask you:

“Why did it take you so long?” You answer:

            “I arrived once you were strong and ready.” 

Not to Make Loss Beautiful by Gregory Orr

Not to make loss beautiful,

But to make loss the place

Where beauty starts. Where

the heart understands

For the first time

The nature of its journey.

Love, yes. The body

of the beloved as the gift

Bestowed. But only

Temporarily. Given freely,

But now to be earned.

Given without thought,

And now loss

Has made us thoughtful.

My Son the Man by Sharon Olds

Suddenly his shoulders get a lot wider,

the way Houdini would expand his body

while people were putting him in chains. It seems

no time since I would help him to put on his sleeper,

guide his calves into the gold interior,

zip him up and toss him up and

catch his weight. I cannot imagine him

no longer a child, and I know I must get ready,

get over my fear of men now my son

is going to be one. This was not

what I had in mind when he pressed up through me like a

sealed trunk through the ice of the Hudson,

snapped the padlock, unsnaked the chains,

and appeared in my arms. Now he looks at me

the way Houdini studied a box

to learn the way out, then smiled and let himself be manacled.

QUOTE:  "It isn’t always easy to hold on, especially when the world keeps spinning, but it is easier if we hang on together. That way we are connected, linked together, and stronger than any one of us could ever be alone. It does not matter that we are from different backgrounds or different faiths: what matters is that we care with and for one another. The unraveling of reality only occurs when we let go, let go of our hope and our vision. When we hold on to what we believe, our diversity becomes a bond that cannot be broken. So if you feel like you are hanging on, you are, but never alone. Thousands of us are holding on with you." ~ Steven Charleston

"It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them. I was so preposterously serious in those days… Lightly, lightly – it’s the best advice ever given me… So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly my darling…" ~ Aldous Huxley