Getting Back to What I Love

Oh these months of September, October, November, December and January........funny how two major life events can put a real wrench in how you feel about 5 months in a year.  That's almost half of a year that I allow myself to be super sad and un-motivated to get out and live life.  What a waste of a perfectly great and full-of-possibilities life, wouldn't you say?

My mom and dad would be sooooooooo disappointed in me.  So, with the 4 year anniversary of my mom's death arriving tomorrow, Halloween, I have decided to not post tomorrow with my typical style of post.  Instead, I shall post today and share my art journaling and sketchbook entries of the past week.  I have always had a tendency to only go to my art in times of sadness and desperation.  A way of helping me to work through horrible, difficult times when I can not find any other healthy way of coping with the feelings and thoughts racing through my overly busy mind.  The end result being art that I love but that is not necessarily so happy to go back and look at later on.  So with that being said and made aware to me, I am turning to my art to represent my feelings everyday, not just the bad days and or months.  It may not be nearly as interesting, but it will at least better represent my life which is actually full of many, many happy and super joyful days!!!  Especially now that I have my youngest living with me full time and have his wacky spirit filling my home with even more laughter and joy, not to mention beautiful music when he is playing on his drums.

My art will still help me through the tougher days, but maybe they won't seem so tough if I have been expressing myself everyday through my art.  Grief is a crazy emotion that really just seems to get a tight grip on me when I indulge in it.  At one moment I may think I have a grasp on it and then some stupid episode on a tv show will send me right over the edge or a song or some unfortunate event in the life of someone I barely know.  I have a dear friend who just lost her sister-in-law to cancer.  This beautiful soul leaves behind 3 precious, really young children and a loving husband along with many other family members and friends.  Those 3 young children have lost their MOM at a horribly young age.  I was so blessed to have my mom in my life for 46 years and I can barely stand to think of her not being here anymore.  But then I think about those 3 children and wonder how I can be so selfish to be allowing myself to feel so sorry for myself when I was given the gift of 46 years with my mom and 49 years with my dad.  It really puts a new perspective on how I see my situation.  

Okay, so anyway, back to my happy thoughts.  Here are some photos of my newest journal/sketchbook entries. There is no consistency to what they look like.  My style changes based on what artist I am studying and what classes I am taking on-line.  The only time "my" style shows up is when I don't look at any videos and just sit down and try to create an entry on my own.  I really struggle with this which is why I am always taking classes and watching what other's techniques are.  My hope is that if I make daily entries a priority then my own style will emerge and find itself.  In the mean time, I am having great fun and that is a priority for me right now :)  

Stabilo Pencil and water

My alter ego......Poulet Chateau and her best chick, Beatrice Feathers.

(above and below)

A moment in a day of the life of Poulet.

Still needs to have some color added to it, or, maybe not.

Some wonderful snail-mail that inspired my first entry in a new journal..... a gratitude page.

A wooden board rescued from my dad's workshop last year gets a few flowers and a stamped bird.

A very inexpensive mixed media journal gets a special cover to make it prettier. Vintage bark cloth and recycled ribbon from a gift make for a perfect altered journal cover.

A class taught by Pam Garrison on Creativebug led to this entry.  Using a pen to make blind marks on a page, then going back and adding color into those shapes (above).  Then going back in with the pen and adding in what you see (below).  It took me some time to really just slow down and stare, but then I started to see the images.  Super cool exercise and every time you get a different result.  Loved this and did multiple pages of this technique.

Not particularly so great to look at, but I had fun with it.......laying down the background colors with acrylic paints and then just doodling some of my favorite things......birds and flowers and a few words that pop into my head.  No real rhyme or reason to this.

Taking cues from Mary Ann Moss and Pam Garrison I tried my hand at just sketching what is right in front of me or just my surroundings.  This was fun but I have no sense of proportion or really making things look 3 dimensional.  But hey, practice makes perfect right?  And I do like how things look when I do this and I have never been much of a "realist" at drawing for certain.

This one will get some color added to it some time today.  

This is a pretty typical style for me when I am doing more journaling than actual "art journaling".  Okay but kind of blah.  Hoping to add some depth and direction over time as I make this more of a daily habit.  

These next two paintings and pen drawings are from another exercise of Pam's.  Putting down random colors and stroked of watercolor and then going back in with pen and drawing what you "see".  The first one was pretty easy for me.  I instantly saw ocean creatures and coral.  Not many, but some.  Then the other one was a huge struggle.  Birds, "flowers" and a tiny childlike house.  I drew what I saw but I am not so happy with either one.  What I learned though is the more varied my brush strokes are, the better chance I will have of finding something in my painting without the use of magic mushrooms. (no mushrooms were harmed in this exercise I promise but from what i have heard, they would have probably helped me "see" things) 

So that's that.  Keep on smiling and enjoy your life. 

Remember.......

Life is for the Living!!!!!!!

Using my Art

Everyday the mail brings more forms to fill out and mail back.  More ugly ways to remember my dad is no longer here with us.  When my mom passed, this didn't happen, but now that they are both gone, the paper work doesn't end.  Reading a Will that is written in the first person and hearing my dad's voice as I read words he would never actually speak in the real world is something I just can't bring myself to do.  I made it through less than half way, of the first paragraph and broke down sobbing. Not sure I will ever go back and read that paper......instead I handed it to Robby and asked him to just tell me what it is I need to do.

Through it all, I turn to the things that help me the most, my art and my family.  I am trying really hard to stay on top of my emotions and not let myself slip into a state that requires medication to get me out of.  Been there, done that, really don't want to re-visit that ugly place again.  Today, I made this entry in a journal I am doing for an on-line art class called "Kingdom Come".  I love the words to the song that accompanied the lesson and decided to include them in my journal entry.  This song continues to play over and over again in my head.  I believe it may just help.

 Oceans

Where Feet May Fail

Tiny, Small Steps

One week and two days ago, I lost my daddy.  I spoke to him on the phone early on a Friday morning and 30 minutes later, he was gone.  Just like that, in a blink of an eye, poof.  Just like my mom almost exactly 3 years ago.  And poof, just like that, my life, and that of my three brothers, has been changed forever.  How to move forward is the struggle I am dealing with now.  My daddy and I were always very close, but after the death of my mom, we became even closer.  He understood the pain in my heart from losing my mom, and I in return, understood the complete emptiness that he felt in his entire being, from losing the woman he had spent 58 years of his life beside.  I told him all the time, I did not know how he got up every morning and continued to move through his life and be productive.  But he did, day in and day out.
Some days, all he did was walk over to his workshop, turn on his Bose Radio that he was so proud of, listen to country music and sit in a chair.  No woodworking would be done, just reminiscing of a better time, a better life.  Other days,  he would be very productive, working for tedious hours on his clocks that he had become famous for.  Beautiful, wooden clocks that he made with love for friends, family and no one in particular.  They were a huge source of frustration for him, but also a huge source of diversion.  With his mind fully engaged on the building of the clocks, he had little room for thoughts of a love lost.  Though I am sure, she was always there, waiting in the wings for a moment to slip into a thought or two.  Perhaps there was a gentle nagging from her that he shouldn't be in the shop working with  power tools all alone.  Or perhaps she reminded him that he hadn't stopped to eat lunch and that it was getting late.
I called my daddy everyday, twice a day and on occasion, a few extra times in between.  I go to the phone to call him even now or realize I haven't called him and know he is going to be worried.  Then it hits me like the sting of freezing cold water when you plunge into an ice bath, he isn't there.  There is no one to call.  I call his phone anyway, just to let the answering machine or voicemail answer so I can hear his voice.  His voice that tells me he can't get to the phone right now, but if I leave him a message,  he will get back to me when he can.  It isn't true, but I listen anyway and then I weep.
There is a lot to be done still.  Things that didn't need to be done when my mom died.  There is an estate to handle and close up.  There are items to be divided and given away.  Soon, the only home I ever knew growing up, will be sold to a total stranger and I will never have that home to go back to.  The home my parents loved and cherished will never be the same.  No one could possibly love that home as my parents did or take care of it as well.  It will be sad to someday drive by and see that it is in need of work or that the lawn has grown full of weeds and in need of mowing.
I don't know how I will work through all of the emotions I am going through right now.  I imagine I will turn to this blog to write thoughts that no one really wants to read, but that I need to get out of my head.  I will probably create art, that no one will really want to see but that will help me express some of the ugly, depressing thoughts that are racing through my mind.  I will cry more tears which I didn't think was possible and I will spend time alone because it is better than having to be in a crowd.  I signed up for a year long art class on line today with Juliette Crane, called Serendipity 2.  Her art speaks to me through her whimsical creatures and girls.  Their faces speak to me with their thoughtful eyes and I am drawn to them.  I figure it will be a great way for me to express some of what is inside of me, without having to tire everyone with listening to me.
Tomorrow I will return to my job, not by choice, but by necessity.  My allotted time of "bereavement" is up.  How someone is able to put a number on the amount of days it takes to grieve the loss of a loved one, is beyond me.  Little children who have no idea what death is or the painful ache it leaves in your soul, will embrace me with their tiny arms, call out my name and pounce on my lap.  And in their best attempts to make me forget the reality of my life, they will make me smile and laugh, if only for a moment.  Tiny, small steps are all I can take right now.  And usually there is a long pause between steps.  It's all I can do.  I am in unchartered waters and know not of what is right or wrong.

The Day Before

 

Tomorrow is the day.
October 31.
A day that no longer means Halloween to me, but marks the anniversary of a day that I will never forget.
A day that I remember every little detail of and play over and over again in my head.
I don't think that is normal, and after two years, I would think I would have learned to not do it still.
But......I haven't.

Tonight I will think about that last phone conversation.
Why I didn't notice something different other than a touch of tiredness in her voice.
Why our strong connection to each other, being the only females in the family, didn't alert me to something that was terribly wrong, brewing.

She comes to me often now, in my dreams.
I can see her completely..
I only use to be able to see her body and never her face.
In my dreams, I know she is gone, but has come back to tell me something.
I wish in my dreams, I could tell her all the things I need to say.
But I only listen to her.

Yesterday morning on my way to work, I was listening to Carbon Leaf.  One of my favorite songs, Block Of Wood, was playing.  I listened, really listened, to the lyrics and played it over and over again.  The sun was coming up over the mountain to the right of me, and there she was.  The sun always rises in the same place each morning on my way to work.  But somedays, not nearly as often as I would like, it is different.  It hits the right side of my face, through the car windows, and warms my skin.  It is in that moment that I know, it is her. 

Things are a little mixed up for me right now and I am working through some things.  Even though she can't do a thing about them, it's nice to know she is still there, trying to hold me up, as I muddle through it all. 

I love you mom and miss you more than I think you could have ever imagined I would.

 

 

Block Of Wood

 

Grab your heart we need to leave
There's no time to cry or grieve
For the fallen family tree

Rise above the flooding plain
Crouching low to duck the flame
Generations against the grain
Up in smoke and down the drain

If the fire, if the flood
Burns the tree and thins the blood
If your tears don't want to dry
I can help you cry
Through the night
Through the night and day
I can't your pain away
But I can help you cry

We'll cut the branch from this tree
Carve a place for you and me
A wooden seat that we can string
From a branch where we can swing

We'll take this block of wood
Carve it down and sand it good
When finished it will be
A souvenir of the family tree

And if the fire, if the flood
Burns the tree and thins the blood
If your tears don't wanna dry

I can help you cry
Through the night
Through the night and day
I can't take your pain away
But I can help you cry
Through the night
Through the night and day
I can't take your pain away
I can try but

God help me please
Come save the family tree
My friends I broke them all
When falling off the wall

In the ash I found an ember
Something warm to help remember
A block of wood that used to be
A strong tall family tree

A strong tall family tree
Blowing in the breeze

Cry through the night
Through the night and day
I can't take your pain away
But I can help you cry
Through the night
Through the night and day
I can't take your pain away
But I can help you cry

 

 

 

Lyrics taken from http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/c/carbon_leaf/block_of_wood.html

 

 

 

 

30 Years Later I Can Finally Say.........

Tonight, many of my high school friends will get together in my hometown, to celebrate 30 years of our graduating high school.  I won't be there to celebrate with them, but I have enjoyed catching up on Facebook with many of them.  So since I can't be there to talk about what life has brought to us over the past 30 years, I thought it would be a good subject to blog about. When I graduated from high school, I really was clueless as to what I wanted to do with my life.  I went away to college and chose a major in Physical Education.  Why?  I have no idea!!!!!  I had no idea what I wanted to do but had to pick something and that is what I chose.  That didn't last long.

This was me 30 years ago in my Senior Portrait:



 

 This photo really does just crack me up.  It so does not represent what I looked like in high school at ALL!!!!!!  I was not even allowed to wear make-up until I turned 18 but you would sure never know it from this photo.  I was also NOT allowed to color my hair or have a professional color my hair.  Clearly, this is not my natural hair color though.  I worked as a lifeguard during the summers and this particular summer I really, really wanted to have lighter highlights in my hair.  Knowing I couldn't go and have it done or get my friend Karin to do it, I took matters into my own sneaky hands.  I took a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, yep, the stuff you put on cuts, and poured it all over my hair while I was working at the pool, sitting in the sun and swimming in chlorinated water.  I was certain that it would give me the desired effect I was looking for and yeah, I was WRONG!!!!!  My hair was a lot longer than this picture shows, but I had a lot of it cut off so as to not have to look at so much horrible copper-brassy colored, dry, damaged hair.  My mom didn't say a word when I came home from work that day.  I guess she figured that my having to live with what I had done was enough punishment for me.  And of course, Senior Portraits were scheduled to be taken about two weeks after I had done this to myself.  I would forever have a photo to remind me of the error of my ways.  So between the heavy handed make-up the lady at Caston Studio put on my face and my horribly short, fake colored hair, I ended up with a photo that resembles someone I don't even know.

This was my high school picture the year before.  Notice I have on no make-up, my hair is pulled back and I put absolutely no effort at all into trying to look good for picture day.  Truth is, I remember completely forgetting it was picture day and I had on a hoodie sweatshirt all day because it was cold.  When they called my name to go down to have my photo taken, I just ripped off my sweatshirt, didn't brush my hair at all, sat down and smiled. Snap, picture was done.  We wore our cheerleading uniforms that day which is why I am wearing that sweater.  Funny thing is, this has always been my favorite photo of me in all of my years of school, besides maybe elementary school.  It looks like me, I was being myself and I was comfortable in my own skin.

"Comfortable in my own skin" is something I really never was in school.  I never felt like I fit in anywhere or with anyone.  I remember always feeling like I had to be someone different for every group I was with so that they would like me.  As a result, I never really had a "click" I belonged in.  I was just kind of friends with everyone but not really anyone's friend.  Actually, that isn't really true.  My best friend since I was 12 years old has been Karin, but at one point in high school, she dated one of my ex-boyfriends and he didn't want us being friends so I had a good 2 years or so of us not being able to hang out together or talk to each other, but that is another story.  (why do we as high school girls let boys control us like that?  so dumb!!!! ) 

My parents were really strict and that didn't help my social life any.  I wasn't allowed to date until I was 16 and I had a really early curfew, plus I had the fear of God instilled in me by my parents, so I didn't push the curfew thing or dare be late.  Don't get me wrong, I still pushed some limits, I just made sure I was done pushing those limits by 11:00 so I was home on time. I was not a saint for sure!
I met my high school sweetheart my senior year and he fell in love with me inspite of my awful hair :)  He had already graduated from my high school but took me to my senior prom and we dated for 5 years after that.  I broke up with him when I met the father of my 4 boys.  It wasn't a very pretty break up by anyone's standards, but I did do it in person, unlike today when kids send text messages or a tweet on twitter to let you know they are breaking up with you. 

I think the reason I was so quick to break up with my boyfriend was because I felt like I really was never going to be the type of girl he would want to marry.  He was working in the corporate world and I really didn't see me being the corporate wife.  I was too much of a free spirit for that and didn't think I would ever meet those standards.   Meeting someone who was from out of town and knew nothing about me gave me the chance to try to be as authentic as I could be.  And I was.  And that was enough.  For a while.

I went on to marry that man I broke up with my high school sweetheart for.  We were married exactly 1 year and 9 months later.  Looking back, it wasn't really a very long time to have been dating someone before you get married to them. When we met, he lived in Northern Virginia, I still lived in Richmond.  I packed up my belongings and moved to Northern Virginia 6 months after we met so I could be closer to him, we were engaged 6 months after that and married 9 months after that.  To make a 14 year long story short, let's just say that I gave birth to 4 AMAZING sons who are the reason for every breath I take.  I discovered that I am a really, really simple person who really, really loves life's simple pleasures.  I tried really hard to be the wife who loved wearing make-up, going out to social events, making small talk and talk about important worldly topics, but it just wasn't me.  I just really wanted to be at home with my kids and be good enough just as I was, not trying to be something I wasn't.  I had spent so many years of my teens and early twenties being someone I wasn't, I was tired of the game.  Some people are lucky enough to know exactly who they are, what they want and the path that they are going to take and stick with in life.  Then some, like me, take a little longer to find the confidence to believe in themselves and love themselves enough to not compromise any longer.  Don't laugh, but in Katy Perry's new song ROAR, she pretty much sums up how I spent the first, oh 38 years of my life.  These are the lyrics that ring so true to me:



I used to bite my tongue and hold my breath
Scared to rock the boat and make a mess
So I sit quietly, agreed politely
I guess that I forgot I had a choice
I let you push me past the breaking point
I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything

 

This is not a good way to live one's life and it brings a lot of sadness and heartache.  Being on my own was hard and I went through some really, really tough times that I don't wish on my worst enemy.  But when I came out on the other side, I was a new person who was ready to live my life as my authentic self since I had finally figured out who that was.  I was lucky enough to find a man who loves me for exactly who I am.  I told him all of my flaws and my past mistakes and dumped all of the baggage that comes with me at his feet and he didn't even flinch.  For once, because I finally was happy with the person I was, I was able to let someone love me completely and I wasn't afraid he would leave.  Robby has been my rock through some really tough times over the past 9 years that we have been together.  He loves my boys like they are his own and when my mom died 2 years ago this month, he watched me completely fall into a million tiny, little pieces and he patiently put all those pieces back together again with love and patience.  He loves me without makeup, doesn't mind that I don't want to color my hair anymore and am letting it go gray.  He is blind enough to think that the art I create is good and he is brave enough to eat anything I cook and place in front of him.  He helps me pursue my dream of raising free range, organic chickens and eggs and has promised we can have some more animals once I quit my job.  He helps me tend the very large organic veggie garden we have and even helps with the canning and preserving of all the extra we have.  Now, Robby is a hot blooded male and he does love it when every now and then I decide to put away my hippy, tree hugging, granola, crunchy-ways for a few hours and dress up a little, put on a little bit of makeup, wear my hair down and wear some shoes that aren't my Birckenstocks, hahahaha.  Lucky for me, getting dressed up to him means I can wear tight fitting jeans,  a blouse or sweater and my cowboy boots or a dress and my cowboy boots!!!  (gotta love those country boys)  We fit perfectly together, but it took me 38 years to find that perfect fit. 

 

Robby and I have been married for 3 years.  I am soooo happy I decided to be brave and get married again before my mom passed.  She loved Robby so much and knew how good he was for me and to me.  I truly believe our wedding day was one of the many, happiest days of her life and I am so glad she was here for it.  She certainly was surprised out how my life turned out and what it was that truly made me happy in the end.  She NEVER imagined I would live out in the country on 80 acres and have the dream of living off the land.  She certainly never thought I would grow to love cooking as much as I do considering I did not know how to cook one thing when I moved out of my parents house when I was 20.  I know it must have been so hard on her watching me take so long to "find" myself and settle down.  I have a gypsy soul and that is not easy for a parent to live with, I know, I have a son who has my same gypsy soul!!!!!  You never stop worrying about what will become of them. 

 

 

This is me today. My hair is only colored on the ends but that's because it is growing out from my last coloring job 2 years ago. The lovely "platinum" highlights are God's gift to me and I wear them proudly. And as you can see, I am not wearing makeup :)

 

And this is me wearing my favorite accessory, that ridiculously huge smile that appears very often and that I am proud to say, I am actually famous for :)  Okay, I admit, I did blow dry my hair straight this day.  Humidity was low and I wanted to change it up a bit, hahahaha.  By the way, I am so stinking happy in this photo because I scored two awesome vintage books to use in my mixed media art, for a whopping 50 cents a piece.  Now that will make this girl SMILE!!!!!!!

 

 







Wow, this has really turned into a long post and I am not sure it even went where I started out thinking it would go.  BUT, I do know the point was, I was reflecting on my life over the past 30 years.  It would be nice to have been able to go to my reunion tonight and talk to the people that knew me way back when.  I would love to know if any of them felt the same way I did in school and if it has taken any of them as long as it has taken me to get where I am happy with my life.  I guess that is part of the reason too that I didn't  make a bigger effort to go.  It is easy for me to chat on Facebook with people and they like what they see and read, but what if when I really showed up in person, I wasn't who they thought I would be?  I like to think that, that young, incredibly insecure Debbie is really gone, but I am not sure I am really ready to test it, hahahaha.  I know I wouldn't have the energy to change on the spot and be someone different, so they would just get what they get.  But on second thought, I probably should have gone because I am pretty sure they would all think I was just fine:) 

 

30 years later I can finally say......... I love myself, I love my life and I can't wait to see what the next 30 years have to show me.  Happy 30 Year High School Reunion to me and all of my 1983 J.R.Tucker High School classmates!!!!!!!!


Stuck

I have not written anything this summer.  I have taken so many pictures with the intentions of writing a post, but then don't.  My summer has been full and empty both at the same time.  Full with things I don't necessarily want to be doing and empty of the things I do want to do.  My mind is full of worry and racing thoughts concerning my kids and their futures, my dad and his health and the speed at which my life is flying by and the amount of time I spend not following my dreams and trying to make them come true.

I am stuck. 

I want to do more art, but I don't.  I want to spend time in my gardens making them prettier, but I don't.  I want to stay on top of the cleaning in my house every week, but I don't.  I want to make everything perfect for my kids, but I can't.  I want to take my dad's loneliness and sadness away, but I can't.  I want to start doing yoga again to see if it will help with my joint pains, but I don't. 

I am hoping this is just a phase and will soon pass. I am trying to find answers and am praying for some clarity. 

I hope to be back soon with happy posts and pictures.

The High and now for the Low

This is me writing for me.  What I would normally write in a journal that was for my eyes only, not for other people to read and where I have a little voice in the back of my head telling me to be mindful of what I write.

Yesterday was my 48th birthday and what a grand day it was.  Three of my amazing sons were here from Friday afternoon until late yesterday evening.  My son Reed brought his girlfriend who just happens to be a girl that worked in the same doctor's office as I did a few years ago.  She is wonderful and it made that whole awkward, getting to know someone stage, non-existent because we have been friends for years.  Having my kids around me, laughing, joking, talking, sleeping, eating, just being my kids, is just the greatest of joys to me.  We just have such a great time together and a bond that can never, ever be broken.  We are a goofy bunch and I am certain very different from many other families.  When they leave, it leaves such a hole in my heart.  The house is so quiet today and it is rainy and cloudy outside, so it just makes that hole seem even more gaping than usual.  I miss them.

We also had baby chick eggs hatching since Friday.  That has been stressful but is finally over.  Out of 21 eggs, only 12 of them hatched and survived.  This was a much more difficult incubating and hatching experience from what I remember from last year and our survival rate was not as good.  I am hoping all 12 will do well and continue to grow and live.  I am nervous to get to attached to them in case something should happen over the next few days.  One chick who had been born with what I thought was something called spraddle leg, died this morning.  I was afraid this would happen as she was not able to walk like the others.  I had band her legs to try and help her, but in the end, she wasn't strong enough and lost her short little battle.

Dad is also very sick right now which is making me so sad.  I don't know what to do for him to make him better, and what is being done for him, to make him better, makes him so sick feeling in the process.  His voice is so weak sounding on the phone and I know his body is weak too.  My birthday just wasn't the same without him feeling good.  He didn't even remember until the day before that it was my birthday.  He has just been feeling so bad and out of it.  He didn't even remember to tell me Happy Birthday when I talked to him yesterday morning but did remember when I talked to him last night.  He was so apologetic for forgetting and felt so bad.  I am not upset that he forgot my birthday but upset that he is so sick that this is happening.  I feel like I am losing him and it just makes me so sad.  I just really, really need for him to get better and be back to his normal self.  I just really, really need for my mom to be alive still to take care of him so he is not alone.  He is just sitting in his house, sick, all by himself with know way of making himself better.  When he goes to dialysis on  Monday, Wednesday and Friday, they do what they can to help make him better, but it's just not fast enough. I keep praying for him and I will not stop.  Yesterday as I thought about the fact that I was turning 48, I felt so conflicted about my reactions to daddy's being sick.  I am 48, just 2 years from 50.  My dad is 83 but yet I feel like a little girl whose daddy is sick.  When I think about my daddy, I don't view myself as a grown up who knows these things come with older age and that this process is inevitable.  I just think and feel like a little girl who doesn't want to see her daddy sick and doesn't know how to deal with it as a grown up.  I don't know how to accept it and realize it is the way things are. 

I need the sun to come back out to play, to light up the green freshness in the woods, to make the flowers lift their heads and rejoice in the brightness of the day, to make my seeds want to sprout and grow to the sky.  I need another day of hope and possibilities.  I need to feel it is all going to be okay and for yesterday's pure happiness to return, right now.

This is Me, Emptying My Mind

I am on my way to Richmond, it's 7:20am, Hurricane Sandy is approaching the East Coast.  It is almost the one year anniversary of mom's passing and I am going to see my dad and go visit mom.  Robby is driving and I am watching out the window, looking at the thick, dark clouds this "nor'easter" is bringing, the changing leaves on the trees, the deer in the fields and thinking about mom's last days, and writing down all of these thoughts as we drive.  This will be my blog post.  Not a pretty one or happy one.  But this blog started as a place for me to empty my thoughts out into the universe, and this is one of those kind of posts.  So please, bare with me.

This would have been a Friday last year and I would have been on my way to work, so happy it was Friday finally and looking forward to spending the weekend with my boys.  Mom would have been home, having dropped dad off at dialysis.  Probably reading the paper and having some coffee, enjoying some alone time.  Or did she have a feeling her days were nearing an end?  Could she feel the clot forming in her brain which would soon explode, causing so much damage instantly that she would no longer know how to breathe on her own?  Daddy said she did a lot of extra cleaning those last few days, fretting over small things and needing everything to be perfect.  So typical of her if she thought people would be coming by the house.  Their house is always clean and picked up and super organized, but daddy said she was really going over and above normal.  Why?

I am perfectly aware that it is morbid and of absolutely no use for me to dwell on these types of thoughts, but it is how my mind works.  And NOTHING can make it not work this way.  It is where my mind goes when I am not occupying it with some other productive thoughts.  Riding in the car is the worst!!!!  The 45 minute drive to work and then home from work and this 2 hour and 15 minute drive to Richmond.  My mind is free to think about anything, and this is what it thinks about.

I don't remember if  I talked to mom that Friday or Saturday.  I do know that I spoke to her on Sunday evening, as did Evan, Trevor and Robby.  Mom sounded tired, but not alarmingly so.  I remember after she died, I kept asking Robby if she sounded different to him?  Did she say anything strange or unusual?  Did I miss something in her voice that should have let me know that something wasn't right and I should have done something?  His answer was always the same, "no."  But how could she have been 12 hours away from dying and us not know it?  How could she not know it, or did she?  Was her head hurting and she wasn't saying anything about it?  I have SO MANY QUESTIONS and NO ANSWERS!!!!! That makes me crazy.  I have always had a knack for figuring things our, investigating and snooping around until I find out what I need to know.  But that is useless in this case.

As we are driving, I am looking up to the sky and wondering if mom can see me looking for her?  Can she see me writing this all down and does she see that when I have dreams with her in them, that I can never see her face?  I just know the person in the dream is her.  Why when I was in the cave in Montana, was that the only time that I could see her completely?  She was right beside me, resting her head on my shoulder because she is shorter than me and her arms were wrapped around me.  Holding me so that the black darkness of the cave would not frighten me.  Why is that the only time in a year I have been able to see her face?

How does my dad wake up everyday and want to go on?  His life consists of dialysis 3 days a week and then being home alone, for the exception of my one brother who comes over on his lunch break 5 days a week and another brother who comes once a week and the occasional visits from my other brother and I.  We both live 2 1/2 hours away and don't get home as often as I am sure we would both like to.  How can my dad bare the evenings and night time?  Where does he find the strength and desire to want to go on?  I admire him so much for carrying on though I know his days are tough and very hard on him.  I talk to him twice a day because it is all I can do, but it's not enough.

I can't help but think about my nephew who I will see today.  He came to Richmond on that day with his mom and dad.  He was only 15 at the time and he had to be there with us in the hospital, in mom's room, watching a machine breathe for her while we waited for my dad to return from his dialysis treatment that had been put off for 10 hours.  All the while knowing that when his Papa came back, we would be taking his Nana off the machine that was keeping her body alive.  He had to watch his dad, his uncles and his aunt go through the pain of losing their mom.  Me, the aunt he associates with happiness, silliness and laughter, unable to do anything other than hold her mom's hand, caress her hair and beg her to please open her eyes and not leave me.  No 15 year old should have to witness all that, but he never said a word or left the room to be alone.  His courage and strength was steadfast.

So, now I am here.  I find odd comfort here.  I wish that I lived closer because I would come visit everyday.  I could sit and talk to mom for hours.  I never get to come by myself to see her and just sit and talk about my life and thoughts.  I have new flowers to put on her marker for the Fall and the one year.  We will all come back here together today to do that.  I really wish the sun would shine because it is so pretty here when the sun is out.  The birds chirp and fly from tree to tree, the ducks fly onto the pond and an odd peace comes over me.  But on days like today, there is just gloom and darkness.  I can't come back here on Wednesday because I will be back at home and at work.  My mom lost her mom on October 31 also, 10 years earlier.  I wonder if October 31 of some year is when I will see the both of them again.  Maybe that will be the day I get my answers.  Or maybe then, it won't matter anymore, I will instantly understand it all.

I love you and miss you with all my being.

Finding the Balance

Two feet firmly planted on the ground, or so it would appear.  At the very moment this picture was taken, yes, I felt very grounded and balanced.  But in a moment's notice, it can all change, right?  I know this for a fact now, thanks to many things that have happened over the past 7 months.  I mean, I guess I actually already knew it, but the past 7 months have made it painfully clear to me. 

Change is not always welcomed nor is it something we can always have control over.  What we can control is how we react to that change.  That is something I have not been controlling very well lately, and I have decided it is time to change that.  Yep, the time has come. I am breaking out the BIG GIRL PANTIES!!!!!

Okay well maybe not this big of Big Girl Panties, but you get the idea.  But there are a few changes that are going to take place in my life.  I am not going to spend an entire post writing about all of them at one time.  There are probably 3 major changes and I will talk about each of them on separate posts.  So, here goes:

Number one is taking back control of the food that goes into my body.  I have really slacked up on my eating habits of late.  Winter is usually filled with comfort foods to begin with, but then you throw in some sadness and depression, a heaping measurement of grieving and you have yourself the perfect recipe for how to gain an unwanted 10 pounds and that feeling of sluggishness (is that even a word?).    Being able to plant veggies and having access to fresh food daily always makes it easier to eat better.  That is why i love Spring.  The whole renewal and fresh beginnings thing is sweet.  Even though I am not a vegetarian and certainly not close to a Vegan, (hello?  have you heard me talk about my CHICKIES and my fresh EGGS?) I am all about eating a ton of fresh locally grown, preferably organic fruits and veggies.  If not from my garden and property, then from some place real close by.  A vegetarian lifestyle lends itself so freely to Spring/Summer eating.  It's easy to not want to bog down my gut with meat, but not so easy to not bog down my sweet Robby's gut.  He is a meat loving, eating, craving kind of farmer guy and there is NO changing that, and I don't want to.  But he plays along with me and eats all of my crazy concoctions, okay maybe not my green juice and smoothies, but everything else and I just give him his meat right along side of it all.  It's a Win-Win situation:) 

Right now I am following along with this e-course put on by the amazing Heather Bruggeman.  This is the course

This is one of the best e-courses i have ever taken.  So much material to print off.  I have a binder filled already with amazing recipes, pantry organization tips, food storage and prep tips, whole food eating, buying and preparing tips.  This could not have come at a better time for me.  A time when my head has felt so clouded and foggy with negative feelings, emotions and thoughts.  I have gone off of my anti-depressant medication and feel better equipped to deal with life's little struggles and curve balls.  I had a doctor's appointment yesterday and he told me he felt I wasn't depressed, just still grieving and that that was okay and perfectly normal.  Cool, sounds good to me, I'll take it.  I may not be following this to the T, as i do like my eggs now and again, but for the most part I am. 

I was asked by a great friend to make some Vegan dishes for her for a lunch she was having last Sunday.  Some friends were coming in from out of town and they are hard core Vegans and have some unusual food allergies too.  I was honored that she asked me to do this for her and met the challenge with gusto.  I came up with 4 Vegan dishes and from what she reported back to me, they were all a huge success.  Cooking is my way of showing my love to people.  I didn't know the people I was cooking so specifically for, but I know the person who asked  me this favor, and so much love was poured into those 4 dishes and I think it showed. 

Fresh herbs from my garden used in the dishes.
Cilantro, spring onions and chives.

A spicy Indian Inspired Fresh Pea Soup.
I loved this soup and will make it for us.
Lots of nice kick to it and so fresh tasting!!!!

Fresh pineapple used in a Pineapple Rice recipe.

Individual Multi Grain Basil Bread rounds.
Used fresh basil from the garden for this vegan bread.
Very dense but oh so yummy and tasty bread.

Surprisingly enough I did not take pictures of everything I made, hmmmm, don't know how I made that mistake.

So yes, my feet are getting firmly planted on the ground.  I may strike a Tree Pose every now and again and then I will only have one foot planted firmly on the ground, but hey, that just means I am even more balanced than I thought, right?  Tomorrow I will explain another change I am making to keep that balance. 

What can you do in your life to maybe make things a little more balanced for you?  They may be real subtle changes or major life altering ones.  Care to share?

Another way i balance myself!!!
Feet are not anywhere close to be firmly planted on the ground,
but I am BALANCED!!!!!

One Step Forward and Two Steps Back

One step forward and two steps back.  This is how this week has been.  There is no rhyme or reason to my  mood swings.  Or maybe mood swings isn't really the right word I'm looking for.  I am not myself, but some days i am much more not myself than others.

On Monday, my first day back, i was embraced by love and support from all the people I work with.  the other nurses I work with, put me in a "no cry zone" where they would shelter me from people and situations that they thought would make me cry.  It was a tough day, but I got through it better than I had thought I would.  So it would reason that Tuesday would be a little easier.  Nope.  On Tuesday, I was a mess.  I cried the entire 42 miles into work had several breakdowns thru the day, and then cried the entire 42 miles back home.  When Robby came home that night, I was still a mess.  I can't put my finger on what made that day so much worse.  I had tried to call my dad that morning on my way into work and could not get in touch with him. and maybe that triggered something.   Wednesday Robby was home with me in the morning before I went into work and I think that helped get my day off to a better start.  I actually laughed a little and that felt really great.  Today though, things went to hell again.  The morning was tough and the afternoon ended with me finding out that a co-workers mom had died early this morning.  I began to cry when she told me over the phone about her mom, and I felt awful because I knew I was crying for her loss, but even more so, I was crying for my loss of my mom.  Trying to grasp the reality of never being able to speak to my mom again is so hard.  Also, I cannot get rid of the images I have playing in my mind of her on life support.  Lying there in her hospital bed as if she were really still alive.  For 4 hours straight, I sat by her side, forcing her hand to hold mine, and starring at her eyelids waiting to see some type of eye movement under them.  Anything that would give me hope that she was still there.  I stroked her cheek and I smoothed her hair.  I whispered in her ear to please not leave me, that I would do whatever was needed to take care of her if she just wouldn't leave me.  Nothing worked.  Even when they took her off of life support, it was not the instant ending to her life that I thought it would be.  It was a good 45 minutes before the monitors stopped registering any pulse or blood pressure.  She was trying to stay with us, she just couldn't win the battle.  These are the things that play over and over again in my mind.  I don't know how to stop them. 

This weekend, I will go back to Richmond and help my dad go through some of my mom's things.  Clothes and shoes that we need to donate and I am not sure what else.  Not sure I will be able to manage doing anything else.  I can't wait to see my dad again, and hope that I can hold it together all weekend for him.  He has been so brave and strong for me on the phone when I speak to him, all three times a day that I call him.  I want to be that brave and strong for him.  I guess only time will tell, but I hope to be taking at least one step forward and no steps back.  We'll see how it goes.   Thanks for listening.

What is Normal?

This is not a normal blog post.  This is me typing out random thoughts that keep firing through my brain.  I have to get it out because it is just too much to keep inside of me.  Please forgive this if it is raw, boring or just too personal.  It is the only way I know how to release.
I can not begin to process all the thoughts racing through my mind.  Since my mom passed away a week ago today, my world in un-recognizable to me.  What I thought was my normal life, is no longer in any way, normal.  The role that I thought I was to play in my parents life, is no longer the role that I am playing.  Responsibilities I thought I would have years to take on, have now been given to me at a time I was not prepared to receive them.  My mom has left me without any warning and no explanation of what I am  suppose to do.  As the only girl in my family, I feel an inherent responsibility to step in for my mom.  This is an impossible feat, as there is no replacement for her.  The demands she placed on herself to be perfect, have made it virtually impossible for anything I do to feel sufficient in my eyes.  I am exhausted to the point that I can't sleep, and I have not done 1/4 of the things she does on a daily basis.  I don't know what to do for my dad.  I don't know how to ease his pain and yet give him the room to start moving forward.  I look around my parents house and I just become so sad.  So terribly, terribly sad.  How can my dad stand to be in that house with my mom and him everywhere.  It is so lonely and quiet.  The grocery shopping, the food prep, the shrubs in the front yard that need pruning, the pansies around the mailbox that should be dead-headed daily so they keep looking fresh, the dusting, the laundry, the list goes on and on.  How can my dad not be overwhelmed when I am? 

I want to leave and go home to my life.  I want to try and get back to something that seems familiar.  I want my kids, my husband, my home, my bed, my dog, my own space to grieve.  And yet, I feel an overwhelming amount of guilt because I want to get away and escape.  I don't want to be in their house anymore right now.  Is this so wrong?  My dad wants to go through some of her things, but I don't want to do that now, but I also don't want him to have to be seeing her things all the time if he doesn't want to.  I don't understand the stages of grief and I guess everyone goes through them differently.

I have unanswered questions that I would love answers to, but will never get.  Did my mom have a feeling that something was going to happen to her?  Dad says she did some odd things a few days prior and it makes me wonder.  Did she suffer before the aneurysm, because she complained of a headache early that morning and then when it hit, she was calling out "help me, help me" in the dialysis center where my dad was.  Did she know this was the end?  Could she hear me or feel me at all when I got to her and she was on life support?  I sat by her side, forcing her hand to hold mine for the last 7 hours of her life, with my head on her shoulder, staring at her eyelids, praying to see them move so I would know she was still there.  Squeezing her hand as hard as I could hoping she would wake up and tell me i was hurting her or just squeeze my hand back.  I couldn't believe she was just gone.  How could a life go that fast?  What were her thoughts that morning, for the few short hours she was here?  And more importantly, how do I STOP having all these questions and thoughts race through my mind?

In spite of my efforts to feed my dad the way he is to be fed, he has lost more weight this week.  I have made sure he eats three meals a day and drinks as much fluids as he is suppose to, but yet his weight goes down.  With his kidney disease, I worry that he will get himself into more trouble with his health because he will not take enough care with his eating.  What will we do if he ends up back in the hospital again and my mom was the one who stayed with him around the clock when he was in the hospital.  Sooooo many things that i think of and worry about.  And the worst part is, no one has the answers for me. 

Tomorrow, which is Tuesday, I will go to a doctor's appointment with my dad, and then Tuesday evening, Robby will come get me and take me back home.  I am scared to leave but feel that it is time for me to go.  My brother's are going to come by and spend time with him and watch the Va. Tech football game with him Thursday night.  We all feel it is important that he get back to a normal routine, whatever that may be for him now.  He needs to do for himself, and as long as I am here doing for him, he will never do it on his own.  I am scared for him, I am scared for me.  But most of all, I am sad, and want HAPPINESS back.

I'm tired and don't feel like writing any more now.  But I imagine, I am not done.

To Thy Own-Self Be True

Late last night and into the very wee hours of this morning, I was dealing with some very strong emotions.  Sleep would not find me even with the help of 2 glasses of wine and then 2 Benadryl at 3:00am.  All I wanted to do was to find a way to express and release my feelings but in some positive way. At the time all I wanted to do was to break something to release my emotions but I knew this was not a positive way to deal with what I was going through.
So, I decided to go to the one release that has never failed me in the past.  I had to do something physical and with my shoulder injury, I knew yoga or any other form of exercise was not possible.  So, I went to my little get away corner where I try to create and turn my feelings into some sort of art.  I am NOT an artist by any stretch of the imagination.  What I am is a hopeless romantic in all aspects of life and a HUGE DREAMER.  I believe in all things good and am so thrown when life presents the ugly to me. 

My "studio" is a corner of a room we call "the game room".  It is the room where my boys play Xbox, Trevor plays his drums to Rockband even if he is not actually playing Rockband, and a massive pool table that is rarely ever used takes up an enormous amount of space.  I am making peace with the pool table though, it is turning into an extra work table for me, hehehehe.



My little slice of heaven.






















Robby had the cabinet in his hunting room and was about to throw it out.  I snagged it right up and now it houses the few supplies I have.







 


I know it doesn't look like a "studio" by most peoples standards.  But soon, I will take over this whole room!
Hahahaha

  


I had no idea what I was going to create.  I just knew I had to make something.  My mind was instantly going to that place where I blame myself for things that go wrong that I really have nothing to do with.  So, I decided I needed to make some type of a re-affirmation to myself that I was not to blame for what was happening.  I needed to show myself that I am okay. I am not responsible for other's actions when they don't directly involve me.  So my love fest towards myself began.  It was time to start healing my heart again. 



First step, Gesso my wooden board then apply some colorful papers.

I had some pretty envelopes that I no longer had notepaper for.  So I cut off the flaps and glued them down to my board which ended up making a focal point for me.  

Next I found a cut out paper doll dress in the back of one of my mixed media books by this artist...http://mistymawn.typepad.com/.  I have this ridiculous love for birds for some odd reason, and this dress just spoke to me.  It had to represent me.  So down it went onto the board.



I would wear this dress everyday if it were real.

I also had a birthday card my parents had sent to me a few years ago for my birthday.  I LOVED the words that were printed on it.  I don't tell my parents about all the struggles I have with myself and my past, but I guess because they are my parents, perhaps they inherently  know of them.   The words on the card just spoke to me and I remember crying so hard the day I recieved this card and read it.  Shocking I know, the thought of me being emotional and crying.  Anywhoooo, I cut out a few of those lines and down they went onto the board.

 Love these words and the meaning behind them.  Especially the one above.  I so need to memorize this.

Now came the tricky part.  I had to give myself a face.  AGAIN, I am not an artist.  This is not a very big board, so the scale is not so big either.  Basically that means, i had to have a little head which made getting the facial features right even more difficult for me.  But, thanks to yet another great book I have....http://kellyraeroberts.com/book , I was able to follow some of the techniques for shading and putting the face down.  Here was my attempt.



Shadowing with acrylics to get the placement correct of the facial features.  Not too good at this clearly.

Now is where I think it took a turn for the worst.  Looking back now, I should have just left the shadowing as the face and not done another thing.  I really botched this part up, but, hey, I was having fun with the process and my mind was being occupied and put to positive use.  Nothing was being broken, this is a good thing.



Yep, not the prettiest girl in the world.  Good thing she has a cool dress with a bird and butterfly wings.





So the last step was to add a little color to the white to tone it down a bit.  You can see a little of the blue I applied using a piece of screening in one of the pictures above.

All in all, I was very happy with the turn out.  Mostly, I LOVED the process.  I was listening to some really good, positive music which was feeding my soul and bringing a calmness back to me.  As the sun started to shine, I saw things in a new light and I was able to process my thoughts better and calm my mind.  Art is such a personal thing and no one should ever put down another persons art.  You may not like it, or even understand it, but more than likely it was created for a purpose that may only ever be known to the creator themselves.  Writing is my art and so is creating.  I do it for myself, not anyone else.  I may want to share it with others at times, but the only one I am trying to heal, is myself.  



Out of order, but one other inspirational piece hanging in my "slice of heaven".

 I hung my picture on the wall just to take a photo of it by itself with a solid background.  I don't know where it will end up in my home.  Probably some place where I will see it everyday to remind myself of the two sayings I attached to it.


Not too bad from a distance.



Yes, my eyes are a little puffy, but I am pretty happy with what I did.

 I don't know what other people do to work through their emotions when they hit like a hurricane.  I would love for some of you to share with me how you cope with overwhelming circumstances that come out of nowhere.  I just know for me, this is much better than being on medication and so far, it is working.  Thanks for letting me share this with you.  And I would really love any comments that you want to leave.