repairing the home-

    repairing myself

I am a 58 year old woman, wife, mother and friend who has taken a COVID related sabbatical for almost a year. Stress won that battle, and I chose to step out, but I am mending. I am trying hard to not frown (and sigh) as much as I did in 2020, and I practice deep breathing and gratitude daily.

It is very easy for me to busy myself and not check in. I can fill my time with projects, chores, service for others,etc., and mostly that can be good. I like to be "of service." It is not good when busyness is to avoid or cover up other things.  

Today is the 25th anniversary of my mother's death. I am the child in the family that remembers birthdays and the death days. I remember those precious hours and days before she passed. It hurts to have such loss.That is a huge understatement. Twenty five years of doing this without her can be paralyzing. The silence doesn't get easier with time. I miss the people (dad is gone too) who know me best. 

My husband and I, and our three dogs live in a house in need of repair. We have been in the home for over twenty years and its age is showing. Fixtures have worn out, timed out, and given out. I am in the middle of one of my "busyness projects." I am very aware that I chose to do this "do it myself project" as a way to avoid my grief and my loss of my work community. Its been a rough year and a half. 

I want to use this blog as away to check in with myself. I hope it will keep me in the present tense and that it will allow me to express what is going on in life, death, and everything in between. 

Today I will be happy with whatever I complete. It is a day of possibilities. I will pause when I need too. I will breath deep in the sunshine. I will find reasons to celebrate and I may cry again, if I need too. 

I miss you Ruth Constance Crowley. 

Much love always,

your number 7 of 8

isolation, wrist breaks and writer's block

My dominant hand is my left.
Almost three months ago, I fell on the ice near my mail box and broke my left wrist in two places. In a split second I went from closing my mail box to realizing I crashed hard on the ground. The sheer force of my fall landed on my wrist.

You are not supposed to brace yourself when you fall. 
I just reacted.I never had time to think, If I would have just landed on my back or side, the bruising would have been substantial, but there probably would not have been any breaks.
This icy day has led to many humbling discoveries and way too much time to analyze everything.

In the last ten weeks, I have gone from splint to purple cast to orange cast to brace. I still have three weeks of therapy and strength building. It has been a long winter. 

One of the humbling discoveries that I have made is how hard it is to be isolated. 
Both of my jobs had to be put on hold.  I was forced to do a whole lot of nothing.  I tried to figure out how to do most things with my right hand. I overused it and ended up with a stress fracture and a brace. Oh joy.

My loved ones are awesome and I guess that life goes on. I still whine a bit too much to those who will listen, but I can see the end and my return to my sense of normal.

I hope to learn from this. 

the "o" word

Many people in this world find the "f" word in the English language offensive. While I find it rather boorish and overused, I really do not have a problem with it.
I take offense with the "o" word.  

Before I tell you what the "o" word is, I thought that we could explore some enjoyable words that start with the letter.

Obnoxious. This word is very present tense and unmistakable.
Obsessive. Clear and active word.
Objective. This word is calm but positive.
Optimistic. A pleasant word that is straight forward.
Ornery. This can be good or bad.
Opinionated. Generally, this is a strong word but it can be annoying when it pertains to politics.
Obsolete. This can be a depressing word.

I guess you get the idea. The "o" word that I have a problem with is Ordinary. No other word screams that a person is settling for "less than" more than Ordinary. 

Here's to being ORIGINAL. 

So, when someone asks how we are -lets not settle for "FINE". 
That is another four letter "f" word. Maybe we could just be ORIGINAL and true to ourselves? 

kissing Gus

As a couple, my husband and I are pretty disciplined about our dog walking responsibilities.  We appreciate that our pets need the exercise and the variety of being outdoors getting some fresh air. To prevent boredom for all involved, we often get in the car and take them to the nearby coffee shop. The dogs can work on their social skills with other humans and dogs.  We can see our neighbors and friends and enjoy a beverage.

Our english bulldogs, Gus and his brother Zeke got to go to the coffee shop today with my husband. They loved the walk, met nice people and soaked up a little bit of sunshine. Many people came over and met the boys and a family with a little girl asked some common dog questions. While my husband talked with the parents, the little girl petted the bulldogs.  Then it happened again.  The little girl planted a wet one on Gus's nose. She grabbed his furry jowls and smooched away.My Gus kindly accepted her tender greeting. He loves children, She did not kiss his brother Zeke for some reason.   I do not understand why this keeps happening. 

None of the other dogs get kisses from kiddos-- it's just Gus. It is true that he looks like a big white teddy bear. I like to think that children just know who they can approach that closely. At a young age perhaps children can read the mannerisms of my sweet guy and know that he is all about love.

Whatever you are doing Gus-- keep it up. I think that you have it all figured out.

three dogs at my feet

I love when bulldogs snore.
The sounds of fur children at rest is heart warming and reassuring. No matter how cold it is outside- or how much snow may be in the clouds, right now we can relax and regroup. Our weary bones can rest. The busy day of chores, exercise, errands and grocery shopping is behind us.
Simple Saturday nights filled with snoring dogs, silent cell phones, and super hot water to soak in.
It is safe to say that it is- super.

fresh eyes

Perhaps the new start of the year 2015 will give me the opportunity to see things how they are, not how I want them to be? 
I ask this (as a question to myself) because I realize how emotionally buried I have been for at least the last six months. The intense Summer-- with the care of our little cardiac guy. The Fall-- filled with the grief of running out of ways to help him.
I feel shattered (still)  but realize it is time to resolve to my reality and step forward.

I work with dogs daily at a local dog daycare. I LOVE THE DOGS. 
I appreciate their honesty and authenticity. Dogs stay "present tense" and do not get caught in stories. I am "present tense" with them always- and I can focus on how best to serve them. They respond instantly.  There is no awkward silence-- like there is with humans.

Fresh eyes. New Year. Look to my dogs when I am unsure.

Happy 2015!       I sure hope it will be...

to speak "my truth" and get away from the anger

Have you ever had a day when you wished that you could set fire to ALL (of the world's) gratitude journals, positive reminders, and affirmations?
In the past three months-- I have had way too many of them. 
My bitterness ranges from a small, annoying drip to crashing, powerful ocean waves.
I do not feel in control of this. Grief sucks, and I choose to not look to closely at it.This loss scares the hell out of me.
I don't know if I am going to make it out of the dark this time. Colors look blah, foods taste bland, and even music sounds flat. Often times, there is not enough air in the room --and I must escape.
I have little patience for small talk, and bite my tongue often.
It is easier to push people away. 
Ten and a half month old puppies are not supposed to die. My "senior" dogs (that we lost this year also) had the luxury of time and so many happy memories with us. LB never had that time. We ran out of things to do to help him- and I am pissed about it.
It is easier to try to stay busy than it is to face truth. Easier is not necessarily better or healthier. This is why I am writing again. I am stuck in this oozing wound of loss of our fur babies.
Somehow-- I have to pull the hip waders on and walk through this shit called grief.