Look at me with my new iPad Air. I look a lot different with it and I am not 100% sure how much I like it. I went to the apple store with the intention of purchasing a MacBook Air which is a small netbook. I have been doing a little research on the subject and originally wanted to get an iPad. But after talking to Patrick and Katelyn, two of the most loyal Apple enthusiasts I know, I was leaning towards a new MacBook instead.
I guess a good question to ask is “Why buy anything?” I felt it was time. I seem to have taken on some new endeavors that I think will require me to have better mobile access to information and display. I have not yet performed any speaking engagements or conducted any meetings, but I want to be able to do those things someday with some respectability. I would like to present myself and my cause in some kind of professional manner that says I know what I am talking about.
As I talked to different people about whether to buy a notebook or a tablet, everyone asked me the same question before giving me any advice. “What are you going to use it for?” Even today when I went to the Apple store thinking I was going to leave with a new netbook. The salesman there asked me that question and when I answered that I wanted more mobility to blog and make presentations of websites and information to groups, he pointed me directly to this iPad. He thought it was a much better value for my purpose and I was certainly influenced by his expertise. When he told me that it is Apple’s policy to allow up to two weeks for me to change my mind and return my purchase with no service charges, I figured I couldn’t go wrong. So I bought the iPad and a cover for it that is also a small keyboard and stand and brought it home. I am using it right now for the first time, typing on the keyboard which is connected via bluetooth technology to the iPad. I must admit that I don’t hate it. The keyboard is small and would probably annoy people with actual typing skills. I have none of those so it doesn’t bother me so much.
The Apple guy also explained to me how easy it is to use iPad to make presentations. With iPad, AppleTV and a projector I could entertain a roomful of interested people and make a pitch for money, compassion or understanding. And I could carry it all in a small backpack. I don’t have any presentations scheduled right now but it’s good to know that I have the infrastructure to handle what I need whenever I need it.
I keep reaching for the mouse. There is no mouse. This is a touch screen which eliminates the need for a mouse because you simply touch the area where you would have clicked your mouse in tech generations prior to this. But with the addition of the keyboard, I now have the best of everything. Admittedly, the iPad is a dummied down version of computerization. The netbooks I was looking at are much more powerful devices and offer much more in the realm of computer experience.
All in all, after typing this entry I have decided to keep my iPad for at least a few days to see how it fits me. So far I am more pleased with it than I thought I would be. The typing part is not great but better than I expected. And it is so lightweight and portable. I guess in a way it’s like having a very large iPhone except for the phone part. But because of the size and the speed, iPad is truly a different device. Today I will be taking it with me to help someone with a website and I’m looking forward to seeing how well it performs in a mobile application. Since I bought it with that specific purpose in mind, I expect it to perform well.
I met a man last week who lost his wife about four weeks ago and he is interested in a website to honor her memory. Sounds kind of familiar. So I told him I would try to help him get started. I don’t know how difficult that will be but it probably won’t be easy. His loss is so fresh and I know how angry and hurt he is. Hopefully I can put him on a path where he can write about her and share their memories. I know first hand how that can help the healing. I might even have invented it. So I had to include that mention of helping someone with their loss to qualify this article for lovelosshealing.com. Otherwise I would have been writing only about buying an iPad and that is pretty boring.
I am both excited and nervous about my first public speaking opportunity. There is going to be an education day for metastatic breast cancer patients on April 25th. It will be a conference focused on the care and concerns of women and families dealing with beast cancer mets. Speakers will be talking about nutrition, treatments and ways to make things more comfortable and positive.
I kind of stuck my nose into this event, volunteering to help in any way needed. I feel a strong tie to this group of women as they have the same disease and diagnosis that Coleen had. They are all staging the same battles Coleen fought, they have the same demons and the same hopes. Coleen was part of the support group that inspired this event and many people that will be attending knew her as a friend and sister in survival. I was never at the support group meetings but I know that Coleen would have made her presence known at them. She was not the kind of girl to keep things to herself and whatever resources she had would have been shared with everyone. Coleen would have had compassion and hope and encouragement for all the women there. Last year she organized a field trip to Rochester to attend a similar event held by the Breast Cancer Coalition of Rochester and drove several women from the support group there. It was just one of the many ways she had of reaching out to help people and make everything a little bit better.
A few weeks ago, the support group heard the message of “Letting Go” that I discovered in yoga class. Coleen’s friend (and mine) Barb, read it to the group after I sent it to her. Barb told me that everyone loved the message and it made everybody cry. The support group facilitator is also the person organizing the “Strategies for Hopeful Living” education day. Her name is Chris and I have met her on a couple of occasions. Chris extended me the opportunity to close her conference by reading the “Letting Go” message to the audience. She knew it would probably be a difficult thing for me to do and after presenting the idea, she asked me to think about it. Which I did for about 20 seconds before replying that I would be very, very honored to do the reading.
Talk about a tough debut. That reading is emotional all by itself even if there is nothing going on in your life. For me, knowing the mystical way I first heard it and what the words mean to me, it will be a challenging read. At times I am very strong emotionally and at other times, I kind of come apart. I feel up to the task, though and I am thrilled to be able to contribute to such a wonderful occasion. I will be doing it in Coleen’s honor and to help with everyone’s healing. Including my own. And I’m sure I won’t be alone that day either.
I helped design the announcement flier for the conference, too. So if anyone wants to attend, here’s the info.
I was walking past the greeting card aisle at the grocery store last week and I wanted to buy you a card. Like I have done every year for the past 33 years in a row. I never liked buying cards very much, especially if the card wasn’t for you. And even when it was for you, birthday cards and anniversary cards were never as much fun as asking you to be my Valentine.
I remember the first Valentine’s Day we were together. It was 1981 just about a month before we took that historic trip to New York City where I surprised both of us by proposing. I wanted to do something special that year and came up with two pretty good ideas. I bought a box of those silly valentines that little kids give to each other at school. I picked out ten or so of the best ones and mailed them to your house. Each on in its own separate envelope. So you got a pile of silly valentines in the mail and you thought that was funny. Your parents thought it was weird, but they thought that about me anyway. I also went to a bookstore in search of something memorable and a little more romantic than that. I found the perfect Valentine’s Day gift. It was a little red book titled “With Love From …” that contained lip prints of famous people along with their signatures. The book was virtually page after page of kisses. You loved it. I found it months ago in the bottom bookshelves in the dining room, dusted it off and put it in much more prominent position among other treasures. Right now it is sitting next to me and I am reading what I wrote in the book before I gave to you.
To the girl whose lips make this book so appropriate … from the guy who’s so glad he met them … 14Feb81
You know, Valentine’s Day was always a big deal to me. I loved picking out just the right card for you and would spend quite a bit of time finding the perfect one. One year I couldn’t decide between two cards so I bought them both. I was always looking for just the right combination of romance, sex and humor. Although I admit that some years I went strictly for romance. Valentine’s Day was the perfect day to tell you about love and how much of it I had for you. It was also the perfect day for me to add to your lingerie collection which I recall doing more than once. I loved our romance, it really never ended until …
I was cleaning our closet a couple of days ago and found more gifts from V Days past, both books. You always liked books and as much as I would have liked to, I couldn’t buy you lingerie for every holiday. In 1997, I bought you a little book called “Love Letters” which is all romantic correspondence from famous people. I’m not sure how much of this you read but it doesn’t look very worn. More interesting than the content, at least to me right now, is what I wrote inside the back cover. A verse of poetry. Remember that I used to do that sometimes? You never thought it was very good, you were probably right. But once in a while I would hit on some words that seemed right together. In this case, I thought I described part of you pretty well:
She’s gathering information
On a subject strange to me
She’s got magazines and printouts
And her curiosity
She’s got lights on in the bedroom
Informercials on TV
A book of coupons in her car
And a brand new recipe
Alright, maybe not the most romantic prose ever written. It got better though, in 1999 when I gave to you another book, this one titled “The 50 Most Romantic Things Ever Done.” It was supposed to be fifty romantic stories in one small book except I altered it. I typed an additional story, the 51st, and pasted it to the last pages of the book. That story was of you and I getting engaged in New York on your birthday in 1981. I always liked that story.
I know there are a lot of Valentine’s Day cards hidden in the drawers of our bedroom. I had a special place where I kept your cards to me and I think you have some in your top drawer also. I never threw any of those cards away and I never will. I have to ask you something though. Is it okay if I don’t read those cards this year? Can I just leave them where they are for maybe another year at least? I want so to see them again, read what we wrote to each other on the days we celebrated our love. I just don’t think I can do it this year. I hope that’s okay and you understand. I’m doing better but I know I’m still too wounded and fragile right now. Can I save them for next year?
They say the holidays are the hardest. We got through those and they weren’t as bad as I thought. But the next three, starting with tomorrow, are going to hurt a lot. Valentine’s Day, your birthday and our anniversary are all wonderful days, some of my favorites. But I’m going to need a lot of help with them. Valentine’s Day was always special with you, in some ways maybe the most special. I’m just going to celebrate that one for now. I’m not sure how you will celebrate with me, but I hope you find a way.
Yesterday I heard a story about a mom, a dad and a little girl and I thought others should hear it too. It’s a story about cancer and courage and perseverance.
Eight years ago the mom, Heather, was diagnosed with mesothelioma which is a rare cancer that kills most people within 2 years of diagnosis. Heather was 36 and had just given birth to the little girl, Lily and was only given 15 months to live. Heather had successful surgery that included removal of her lung and on February 2, she, Lily and Cameron, the dad, celebrated her eighth cancer free year.
This family celebrates with something they invented and call “LungLeavin’ Day.” Every year on the anniversary of Heather’s surgery, they gather around a fire in their backyard along with friends and family. Everyone there writes their biggest fears on a plate and then they take turns smashing those plates into the fire. They started LungLeavin’ Day as a celebration of life and a way to confront their fears but have now turned it into a fundraiser for mesothelioma awareness. This past year over 75 people attended and they raised more than $4500.00 for the cause.
I love to hear stories about people who have beaten their disease and their diagnosis. I have such admiration for the courage and strength they display and the inspiration they create for others. The Von St. James family has setup an interactive webpage that tells the story of their battle with cancer and of LungLeavin’ Day. It is very well done and you should all take a look at it. Cameron also has a blog of his own where he posts about being a dad, husband and caregiver.
Congratulations to Heather, Cameron and Lily and to all cancer survivors and families. Let’s make more of them!
Our bedroom closet was not large yet it housed an amazing amount of possessions. Most of those were Coleen’s. She dominated the closet with her clothes and items she would store in there. Coleen was not the most organized person I have met and she had a propensity for keeping things she should have gotten rid of. I suppose we are all guilty of that to some degree, but she had more stuff in the closet than she ever wore or used. Since her death, the closet has been an almost sacred area to me. One of the places I least want to tread for fear of memories and emotion. Yet each day I am in that closet several times either getting clothes or putting them away. And each time I enter, I focus only on the immediate task and try not to look around very much. And each time I close the closet door behind me, I tell myself that I have to get in there and clean that closet out … someday.
For reasons I am not yet prepared to discuss, I decided to deal with the closet a few days ago. I have written before about the emotional impact I have gotten when I disturb Coleen’s things. By converting “our” closet into “my” closet, I was in effect taking another step in making our house my home. Those are always steps I would prefer not to take, but I’m eventually better as a result. The times when I have cleaned her car, moved her books, rearranged her dresser and put things away have created some of my most emotional moments. I fully expected a healthy dose of that as I began the task of removing Coleen’s belongings from our bedroom closet.
I was most fearful of the clothes she had on hangers. I took them down and transferred them to a closet in a different room so they could be gone through more thoroughly. I was not ready to determine a final disposition for them yet. Wisely, I did not look at each item individually as I grabbed them in bunches of six or so. But I couldn’t help but spot some of my favorites as I removed them from the closet. And I would think of her wearing something and be reminded of the occasion or occasions and of me holding her in it. I touched the fabric of some of them and could almost feel her underneath, my hands holding her and our lips touching. Our eyes closed then opening to look in each others eyes. I saw the tops she wore in regular rotation and those funky scarves she loved for warmth and style. And dresses she was in for only a time or two but always for a special occasion. She had a sexy black cocktail dress that she wore to a wedding and on a cruise we took about 20 years ago. I have a photo of her in that and she was so beautiful and young.
As you might have guessed, that was exactly my fear of the closet and why I waited so long to take it on. So many wonderful memories and reminders of such a beautiful life together. I managed to get all her clothes out of the closet, and cleaned out a shelving unit before I moved to the floor. She had a lot of shoes there and bags of random items, most of which would be thrown away. But there was something leaning against the wall that I didn’t recognize. It was wrapped in brown paper and was rather large. I thought it might have been a sketch or something artsy. Coleen’s friend Sue was an artist and often gave Coleen some of her work and I assumed that was what this was. I removed it and placed it on the bed. It had been wrapped very carefully, almost professionally, and that made me even more curious.
I finally got the paper off and found a beautiful handwritten calligraphy of a poem and realized that I had seen it before. The poem was called “Celebrate the Journey” and was one of Coleen’s favorites. And I remembered seeing this artwork years ago when she brought it home with a big smile on her face. Coleen had a friend named Carol who was an unlikely cancer survivor. Carol had a gift of calligraphy and Coleen asked her to work her magic with this poem. Carol did a remarkable job and Coleen was going to have it framed and hang it somewhere prominently. She never got to that. Instead, she put this beautiful piece of art in the closet, where we seem to put so many of our good intentions. Where we put so many things that we want to get to, but end up soon forgotten. Where so much of Coleen’s life resided for me to rediscover that day.
The artwork was beautiful. But the poem was the message. As I read it, the inevitable tears came to my eyes. Once again, I felt like I was receiving another message from Coleen. A message telling me to celebrate the journey and also telling me to tell others the same thing. That seems to be the constant to these messages I find. They are all directed at me but they always need to be distributed to others as well. Sometimes I think I’m just the messenger, the conduit to receive and redistribute and help others. I don’t know how else to look at the discovery of this poem as anything other than a message. It was meant for me to find, to read, to be inspired by and to share. So here it is:
Celebrate the Journey
Who knows why life unfolds
the way it does; why we chose
one path or another, share the
way for a while or a day, then
say goodbye. There is no
predictability here, and less
control than we might wish.
But there is the quiet urging
of the heart, the knowing in
the soul, the wisdom that’s
beneath the mind, accessible
if we breathe and turn inside.
When the tide of change rolls
in we can resist or be at peace,
struggle or release. The stuff
of life may not be ours to
understand. It’s enough to
offer love, to receive the best
and worst, to embrace and
say farewell. What matters
most is to celebrate each
moment of the journey.
“Celebrate the Journey” was written by Danna Faulds and was in Coleen’s favorite poetry book, “One Soul.” This book contains over 100 pages of poems from the heart of yoga and Coleen would often read it in bed and at times when she needed peace. I recall her pointing this particular poem out to me on more than one occasion.
It also represents what I think of as a personal failure in caring for Coleen during her final days. I never thought of reading aloud to her from this beautiful book until I saw it the day after she died. Instead of just holding her hand and telling her I loved her, I could have been reading these wonderful poems to her, too. She would have liked that and I will never forgive myself for that oversight. Ironically, after I did find this book, I was trying to recall which of the poems Coleen liked so much. After finding the artwork in the closet, it dawned on me that poem was the one I had been looking for all along. Maybe she was pointing that out to me as well.
I could have cleaned Coleen’s things from the closet earlier than I did. Or I could have procrastinated some more. But whenever it was that I decided to do it, I would have discovered the words and art of Celebrate the Journey. I guess it’s all in the timing of things and I don’t think I needed to hear the whispers of the message earlier. I must have picked the perfect time to clean the closet.