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Today, I painted the bathroom. I didn't plan on it, but the before and after pictures on Facebook are really nice. Of course, they only show part of the story. The real story starts with a message to my tribe:

"Y'all say some prayers today. I'm trying to make my bedroom the place where we loved and not the place where he died..."

139 days. That's how long it's been since Derek passed away. That's also how long it took for me to able to pick up his jeans off the bathroom floor. It was a personal victory. It was awful. I did it though. Then I laid across the bed and held them and cried. A bunch. It was ugly. It was cleansing.  When I finally sat up, I wiped my face and decided to go buy paint.

I am not done with the bedroom/bathroom makeover, but I am proud my progress so far.

There is still a lot of work to be done...on myself and on the rooms. The color isn't right just yet, and there's some touch-up to still be done, but today it's fresh and new, and I needed that.

Life, Purpose, and Puctuation

Last week, I got to see the proof for Derek's headstone (and mine!). Never in a million years, would I have dreamed I would be doing that at this time in my life. I think it turned out perfect. Seeing the dates of birth and death reminded me of this familiar poem:

The Dash Poem (By Linda Ellis) 

I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend
He referred to the dates on the tombstone
From the beginning...to the end

He noted that first came the date of birth
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years

For that dash represents all the time
That they spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved them
Know what that little line is worth

For it matters not, how much we own,
The cars...the house...the cash.
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

So, think about this long and hard.
Are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left
That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
To consider what's true and real
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we've never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect
And more often wear a smile,
Remembering this special dash
Might only last a little while

So, when your eulogy is being read
With your life's actions to rehash...
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent YOUR dash?



I've been inspired by this poem for years, and I began to wonder if other punctuation correlated with life. Thinking back over my life, an exclamation point would certainly describe my relationship with Derek. We tried to cram a lot of life in, not because we thought the end was so close, but because we felt like our beginning came so late. So, we tried to make up for lost time.  We traveled. We were spontaneous. We were bold in our feelings for each other. Arguing over dumb stuff, making up, making out, praying...Everything we did had passion behind it. Even in the day to day, we could find joy and excitement.
   

If our time together was and exclamation point, then January 13th was the period. I read that the purpose of the period is to show the end.  It "is intended to make a statement…” (www.gingersoftware.com) It is the ugliest statement I've ever heard. It is the kind of statement where someone deserves to have their mouth washed out with soap. It is not a statement I would have made on my own. Clearly, I am not a fan of the period.

So far, this grief process is just a lot of question marks and a huge comma.  Questions that you eventually have to accept that there is no answer. Later even after you accept that there is no answer, you try asking the same thing a different way and hope that you are suddenly enlightened. You aren't. You suddenly realize that this time questioning is all part of the comma. The giant pause. Life is on hold for a moment. "... the comma represents a pause, which...functions to clarify meaning.” (www.butte.edu)  A pause to clarify meaning. The meaning of the loss. The meaning of life. The meaning of our life together. The meaning of my new life with out Derek. A pause for a breath. 

Recently, I was struggling some with the encouraging phrases "you got this" and "keep moving forward." I found myself feeling bitter and ungracious. I messaged a friend who has been on this road a little longer than I have and asked her if I am supposed to be "moving forward",  where the hell am I going? They say I've got this. Got what? What is the goal? Stay out of the liquor store and the State Hospital? Because some days those are very real goals!! She messaged me back:

"Maybe they mean keep moving forward until you find your purpose...why you and I are still here but our husbands are not." 

At first I didn't like that answer, because it just felt like more question marks and question marks are so exhausting. I don't know my purpose and a most of the time I don't even know how to look for it.

I saw this t-shirt last week:

• 
  

A semicolon. Even though many days I have wished it was, I know my story isn’t over. God has some reason for it to continue. Just because I'm nerdy like that, I researched the semicolon and found:

“When a semicolon is used to join two or more ideas (parts)... those ideas are then given equal position or rank.” (writing.wisc.edu) 

Two parts with equal rank...If my story is not over, does this mean that my future will be just as meaningful as my time with Derek? Honestly, I can't see it now, but I can hope that it will.  I can try to trust that God has plans to prosper and not harm me.

Decisions, Decisions

The three worst things about losing your husband are:
1. He's gone
2. Your mind is gone
3. Everything else sucks too

#1 is pretty obvious. #3 sounds whiny and needy, and even though it's pretty much true, I am trying hard not to be either of those things. So, if you don't mind, let's talk about the mind.

I have mentioned grief brain in earlier posts. I've been very surprised by how much of a struggle organizing thoughts, remembering things, and sometimes following conversations can be.

Case in point: last week I was in the front yard watering flowers. My neighbor who I don't really know was in her yard too. We exchanged pleasantries, chitchatted about flowers and the weather. Then in mid-conversation, my water can emptied and I just walked off to go refill it. Yep, just left her standing right there. When I realized what I'd done, I turned around just in time to see her front door close behind her.

It's kinda funny, but it's mostly embarrassing. I am working on this issue. I am doing brain training games, making lists, setting reminders, trying to get more sleep...all the recommended things.

I have found another aspect of brain malfunction: I cannot make a decision.

I used to know what I want. Sometimes I made wrong choices, but I am so stubborn I just stuck with it and made the best of it. Now I can't decide. I have some theories. I feel like maybe I never was a good decision maker. Maybe I just always had someone to bounce ideas off of - someone to tap the brakes or cheer me on. Maybe making decisions alone is just really hard and not what I ever wanted to do so my heart has conspired with my brain and they are functioning under protest.

In our back yard there is a place for a grill. I don't want that kind of grill. I have sat staring at this thing many evenings now. First it was going to be a water feature. Now maybe a place for plants, or extra seating for parties we won't host, maybe fill it in and make it a planter, or a water feature, or leave it as a grill, or maybe even a place where guests could sit. Sigh.

If I'm struggling that much with this choice, can you just imagine my brain with, maybe I should refi the house and try to get a lower payment? Or do I really need two SUVs? Wouldn't an SUV and a pick-up make more sense? Or what to do and where to go on my required vacation, because I sure as hell can't just stay here?  Or should I call or text my friends? I don't don't want to be a burden. Should I share this blog? What if people just hit like because they feel sorry for me?

It never stops.

Right now, I don't have the answers, but I know where to find them. I am now holding on to these promises:

And if anyone has a suggestion about that grill thing I'd consider it.

Crazy C

"Crazy, girl don't you know that I love you?
I wouldn't dream of going no where
Silly woman, come here. let me hold you
Have I told you lately?
I love you like crazy girl." Eli Young band

I never thought I was a crazy girl. I mean I know some seriously messed up chicks. "Bitches be crazy." They rant on Facebook, they date losers and then they're surprised when losers do what losers do. Not me though, I had it under control.

When Derek and I found each other, I figured out it wasn't because I was so normal, it was because I had never gone "all in" before. I wasn't crazy, because I wasn't passionate. With him I felt safe. I was taken care of like never before. Our first date "the best night ever" as we called it, we talked until 4 in the morning. We decided to see where it went, feel what we felt, be honest, and if it was meant to be it would be. Either way, nothing held back. All in.

Emotions come in good and bad. We walked through them all. He could make me cry with sweet words. Furious with a smart mouth and that head bobble thing he did. He held me up when Dad died. He let me vent, but he also called me out. He could talk me back from the ledge.

I think the big thing with keeping everything bottled up, is once it's out it doesn't go back as easy. Now that he's gone I don't know how to not be passionate. Some days I'm okay. Some days there's nothing I can do but react to the raw. And some days keeping the crazy in check is too much and I don't have the energy. This week has been a mixture of all three.

He loved me like crazy.

I miss him like crazy.

Maybe embracing it is just one more step of healing. Maybe I'll never come back. I know the old "normal" isn't me anymore, and I realize I need to channel these current emotions too. So I suppose, I'm about to do something great or become the most eccentric woman ever. Maybe both. Stay tuned.