Today would have been Jack's 53rd birthday. So, happy birthday to a man who was a wonderful husband and father. He was generous and a good friend. He lived his beliefs. I'm very glad he was born. And he left us way too soon.
Please drink a toast to Jack today sometime. (For those who don't know, he loved a good tequila.) Me, I plan on toasting him with some of what's left of the delicious cherry cordial he made last year and wearing an outfit he would have really liked and a necklace he gave me this Valentine's day. And remembering him all day.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
The Birds & the Bees
As I was waking up this morning, I remembered a story that Jack told me from when he was a kid about how parents can overexplain stuff:
That story still makes me chuckle.
As if that's not enough, this morning the girls and I were listening to an album by the Zac Brown Band, a country band & a current family favorite. In response to the words in a song, Sarah asked, "Mommy, what do lovers do?" Ummmmm . . . I think I stumbled through it ok.
When he was a little boy, he asked his mom, "Mommy, where did I come from?
His mother then went into an explanation of the reproductive process. I'm assuming it was age appropriate.
To which Jack replied, "No, Mommy! Scotty came from Cleveland. Where did I come from?"That story still makes me chuckle.
As if that's not enough, this morning the girls and I were listening to an album by the Zac Brown Band, a country band & a current family favorite. In response to the words in a song, Sarah asked, "Mommy, what do lovers do?" Ummmmm . . . I think I stumbled through it ok.
Monday, July 13, 2009
So long, Solund
Solund, Lone Stallion of the Appocolypse (AKA the Jeep) is going to his new home. I sold the Jeep today, and he is being shipped to Alaska. Hopefully, he'll have many fun 4-wheel drive adventures up there with his new family. OK, they probably won't think of him as a part of the family, but Jack did. Jack so loved that car. But, I'm glad to have that piece of business taken care of.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Reminders
As just about everybody knows, Jack died at home. 911 was called, and they came and did their thing. He died in the shower, and they moved him from the master bath to the bedroom to work on him on the floor. This is the kind of memory I'd rather not have, but it will probably always be with me. It seems now like I find reminders of that night without warning. Today I was cleaning the floors ~ sweeping & mopping the hardwood. I found one last cap from the code meds under his altar. (It's not the first. I'm sure they cleaned up when they were done, but they forgot some little stuff.) And I've swept in there before today, too! Being an RN, I know what it is when I see it. I'm hoping that's the last one. But it was a reminder that I wasn't expecting. Then, I picked up an old piece of paper that was stuck under my desk. At the top was Jack's writing. It was just the beginning of a shopping list, but still. I just miss him so much. I'd so much rather have him here.
Meanwhile, Sarah's in the other room where all of his magickal stuff is having a "service" with her imaginary friends for Papa (their name for Jack). There's dancing time and time to talk about your memories of him. Wow. What a kid.
On the bright side, at least my floors are clean. At last.
Meanwhile, Sarah's in the other room where all of his magickal stuff is having a "service" with her imaginary friends for Papa (their name for Jack). There's dancing time and time to talk about your memories of him. Wow. What a kid.
On the bright side, at least my floors are clean. At last.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
What is Strength?
Ever since Jack died, more than one person has told me that I'm "strong." So today's question is: What is "strength?"
As a couple, Jack and I were strong. I was stronger with him than I was alone. We got through a lot of stuff including an out-of-state move, layoffs, me being a stay-at-home mom and setting my career aside for a few years & a baby that needed serious surgery before she was 3 months old. (She's fine now.) We also adapted to Jack's heart disease, and we got more regular exercise and changed our diet. Low sodium, low fat, Subway, and the YMCA became a way of life for us. And now it's as if half of me is gone. Yet people still think I'm "strong."
Strength is continuing with life even though you don't want to without the person you love most there with you. Strength is putting one foot in front of the other, no matter how slow. Strength is coming up with a new weekly routine for the kids so they have a sense of stability. Strength is maintaining nighttime rituals and adapting them as needed since one person who did them with you is gone. Strength is finding new support people after someone you thought was a close friend ends the frienship, without telling you why, just a couple of weeks after your husband has died. Strength is taking care of business, paying bills, and dealing with insurance companies and hearing Jack say, "Thank you for taking care of that." in your head. Strength is putting his beloved Jeep up for sale even though your 5 year-old has begged you not to because by the Jeep being gone she'll "know Papa is really gone and isn't coming back." Strength is maintaining your "no" to your child in the store no matter the begging or tantrum because you know consistency is better than your kid thinking that the louder they yell, the more likely you are to change your mind. Strength is maintaining discipline with your kids no matter how much you want to "just let it go." Strength is going back to the YMCA and getting back on that damned treadmill despite wondering "why bother?" after what you went through with your husband.
The list could go on and on. What I've learned is that just because a person is "strong" doesn't mean that it's an easy thing to be strong. It's what has to be done for your own well being and that of your children even if it is hard as hell sometimes.
As a couple, Jack and I were strong. I was stronger with him than I was alone. We got through a lot of stuff including an out-of-state move, layoffs, me being a stay-at-home mom and setting my career aside for a few years & a baby that needed serious surgery before she was 3 months old. (She's fine now.) We also adapted to Jack's heart disease, and we got more regular exercise and changed our diet. Low sodium, low fat, Subway, and the YMCA became a way of life for us. And now it's as if half of me is gone. Yet people still think I'm "strong."
Strength is continuing with life even though you don't want to without the person you love most there with you. Strength is putting one foot in front of the other, no matter how slow. Strength is coming up with a new weekly routine for the kids so they have a sense of stability. Strength is maintaining nighttime rituals and adapting them as needed since one person who did them with you is gone. Strength is finding new support people after someone you thought was a close friend ends the frienship, without telling you why, just a couple of weeks after your husband has died. Strength is taking care of business, paying bills, and dealing with insurance companies and hearing Jack say, "Thank you for taking care of that." in your head. Strength is putting his beloved Jeep up for sale even though your 5 year-old has begged you not to because by the Jeep being gone she'll "know Papa is really gone and isn't coming back." Strength is maintaining your "no" to your child in the store no matter the begging or tantrum because you know consistency is better than your kid thinking that the louder they yell, the more likely you are to change your mind. Strength is maintaining discipline with your kids no matter how much you want to "just let it go." Strength is going back to the YMCA and getting back on that damned treadmill despite wondering "why bother?" after what you went through with your husband.
The list could go on and on. What I've learned is that just because a person is "strong" doesn't mean that it's an easy thing to be strong. It's what has to be done for your own well being and that of your children even if it is hard as hell sometimes.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Flowers & Sunsets
Jack wasn't a gardener. In fact, he always told me that he would kill anything that he attempted to grow. But he certainly appreciated flowers.
Jack knew that one of my favorite flowers is the carnation. On our first Valentine's Day, he bought me this huge pink vase with about 3 dozen carnations in 3 different colors. I was stunned at the time. Just one of the many ways that he was so thoughtful. I still have the vase. (A joke that Jack told me several times when we were first dating: Do you know that if we all drove white cars, we'd be a white car nation? [Insert loud groan here]) For years, he would also bring me a bouqet of flowers from the store "just because." I never knew when to expect it, but I so loved and appreciated it.
When we were living at our first house in WA, our desks both looked out the back windows onto the back deck. When spring arrived, I went to Fred Meyer and bought a fuschia plant and hung it outside my window. Jack loved it so much (I had no clue that he loved the flowers) that I bought him one, too, at his request. We've had a fuschia plant every year since. It's a sign that spring has finally arrived and that the frost is most likely done until fall. Jack always loved it when I hung the new fuschia plant. Buying one this year was bittersweet because he wasn't here to enjoy it.
Then there are the roses. The houses we've lived in here have both had rose bushes. This house has 10 rose bushes in front, and I take good enough care of them that neighbors and folks who walk down our street comment to me about them. We get lots of roses every year. Periodically, I'll go out front and cut a bunch of them. When Jack was alive, he'd strip off the leaves and thorns (he had one of those cool florist tools that does it), and he'd arrange them and put them around the house. It was such a nice thing that we did together. The roses are back, and now I'm doing both the cutting and arranging. And remembering him every time I do it.
He also really appreciated the flowers I grew in the yard. Not all of them could be cut. But, during the summer months, we'd sit in our back yard, and he'd comment on how nice it was to be there with all of the flowers in the planters and the planting beds and thank me for creating such a beautiful environment for us. And sometimes he'd arrange flowers and grasses that I cut from the back. I haven't done as much this year because I haven't had as much time to work in the yard, and when he died, it was the time that I should have been doing all of the planting, and my heart just wasn't in it this year.
He actually appreciated my love of growing flowers the whole time we were together. I had moved to Oakland to be closer to him, and I had a tiny apartment in an old Victorian house that had a small planting bed in front. I put in sweet peas and whatever other flowers I could during the year I lived there. When we were talking about moving in together, we were talking about whether to move to a different place or if I should just move in with him. I told him that my only concern was that I didn't have any place to grow flowers since all he had was an enclosed cement patio. He promised that if I moved in with him, he'd buy me planters to put in the patio. He made good on his promise, and I grew some beautiful flowers out there. When we moved up here, the movers moved the planters, and I still have them 8 years after Jack first bought them for me.
He really loved the really long summer sunsets here. Now, every time I look at one, I think of how much he loved watching them, or even looking out the window and appreciating it. He filled so many parts of my life. I still miss him and think of him every day.
Jack knew that one of my favorite flowers is the carnation. On our first Valentine's Day, he bought me this huge pink vase with about 3 dozen carnations in 3 different colors. I was stunned at the time. Just one of the many ways that he was so thoughtful. I still have the vase. (A joke that Jack told me several times when we were first dating: Do you know that if we all drove white cars, we'd be a white car nation? [Insert loud groan here]) For years, he would also bring me a bouqet of flowers from the store "just because." I never knew when to expect it, but I so loved and appreciated it.
When we were living at our first house in WA, our desks both looked out the back windows onto the back deck. When spring arrived, I went to Fred Meyer and bought a fuschia plant and hung it outside my window. Jack loved it so much (I had no clue that he loved the flowers) that I bought him one, too, at his request. We've had a fuschia plant every year since. It's a sign that spring has finally arrived and that the frost is most likely done until fall. Jack always loved it when I hung the new fuschia plant. Buying one this year was bittersweet because he wasn't here to enjoy it.
Then there are the roses. The houses we've lived in here have both had rose bushes. This house has 10 rose bushes in front, and I take good enough care of them that neighbors and folks who walk down our street comment to me about them. We get lots of roses every year. Periodically, I'll go out front and cut a bunch of them. When Jack was alive, he'd strip off the leaves and thorns (he had one of those cool florist tools that does it), and he'd arrange them and put them around the house. It was such a nice thing that we did together. The roses are back, and now I'm doing both the cutting and arranging. And remembering him every time I do it.
He also really appreciated the flowers I grew in the yard. Not all of them could be cut. But, during the summer months, we'd sit in our back yard, and he'd comment on how nice it was to be there with all of the flowers in the planters and the planting beds and thank me for creating such a beautiful environment for us. And sometimes he'd arrange flowers and grasses that I cut from the back. I haven't done as much this year because I haven't had as much time to work in the yard, and when he died, it was the time that I should have been doing all of the planting, and my heart just wasn't in it this year.
He actually appreciated my love of growing flowers the whole time we were together. I had moved to Oakland to be closer to him, and I had a tiny apartment in an old Victorian house that had a small planting bed in front. I put in sweet peas and whatever other flowers I could during the year I lived there. When we were talking about moving in together, we were talking about whether to move to a different place or if I should just move in with him. I told him that my only concern was that I didn't have any place to grow flowers since all he had was an enclosed cement patio. He promised that if I moved in with him, he'd buy me planters to put in the patio. He made good on his promise, and I grew some beautiful flowers out there. When we moved up here, the movers moved the planters, and I still have them 8 years after Jack first bought them for me.
He really loved the really long summer sunsets here. Now, every time I look at one, I think of how much he loved watching them, or even looking out the window and appreciating it. He filled so many parts of my life. I still miss him and think of him every day.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Short Hair
Jack loved me with long hair. If I ever got it cut above my shoulders, he didn't like it much. He was of the opinion that women should have long hair. (Yeah, but it's a lot of work!) I've been wanting to get my hair cut shorter for awhile now. I finally did last week. What a change. It hasn't been this short in years.
Before
After
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