I have been influenced by the “Letting Go” reflection that was read during yoga class last week. Apparently it has had some impact on people I have shared it with and I am encouraged to share it with others. It has had significant impact on me as I have taken some steps toward dealing with Coleen’s death that I have been putting off. They haven’t been huge steps but anything I do these days that feels like closure seems like a sign of progress. I believe that by reinforcing my truths, that passage has also allowed me to develop a little further in becoming my new self.
Coleen’s nightstand was a constant collection of random thoughts. It was usually littered with books she was reading and notes she was making and various medications. Since her passing, I cleaned that up along with the top of her dresser and removed all signs of sickness. I kept some special items on her nightstand and it had a kind of shrine quality to it that reminded me of her. In a way I wanted to preserve things as she had them so I could prolong her life instead of letting go. That was obviously not a reality but it became my way of holding on to her. Four days ago, I put all of those things away.
On the third floor of my house there is a family room that used to be an attic. It has had many different uses over the years, most recently a bedroom for Patrick during the months before and after Coleen’s death. When he left for New York City in November, the room was a mess and I had transferred some of the more unpleasant reminders of Coleen’s final days up there to get them out of sight. When I decided last week to recreate that room into something usable, it forced me to deal with those unpleasantries. There were two wicker baskets with items she had used when she was sleeping downstairs during her last weeks. There was also a shopping bag from the funeral home which I had placed all the sympathy cards in along with the sign-in book and mementos from her wake. And of course the three poster boards with all those photos on them. I emptied the wicker baskets, put the funeral home bag in a box in a closet for safekeeping and disassembled the photo boards. The room on the third level of my house will now be used for yoga, learning to play piano, and hosting my granddaughters as a playroom when they come over to visit.
I have a closet full of Coleen’s clothes. Before Christmas I washed her winter coats and donated them to my friend’s clothing drive for needy children but I have done nothing with her clothes. That closet is still an uncomfortable place for me. Whenever I walk in I try not to look at her clothes hanging there for fear that I will see a dress or top that will rain memories upon me. Coleen had eclectic tastes in clothes and she owned some pretty funky things which she wore very well. Lots of scarves and lots of colors and prints. My daughter and Coleen’s sister have both told me they would help me go through her things and decide what they wanted to keep. The rest I want to let go of. Hopefully I can get everyone here this week and we can sort that out.
The bedroom Coleen and I shared for so many years is getting a little bit of a makeover. Besides the removal of some of Coleen’s items, I have traded the comforter and pillows from our guest bed for the ones on my bed. It is a more masculine appearance but more than that, it is a different appearance and I like that. I have also decided to start sleeping on her side of the bed and did that last night. That side was mine for a long time until Coleen decided we should occasionally rotate sides. We did that once. Today I will be moving some of the furniture around in there, too. At a Hospice grief seminar I attended in December, the speaker told of how he rearranged his father’s bedroom after his mother passed away. He removed her clothes and belongings and changed the layout of the room for which his father was very appreciative. Apparently, it helped his father in his healing process. I have been delaying that action for quite some time but now feel it’s another way of letting go.
I had another grief counseling session with my Hospice counselor three days ago. Before I went, I printed a copy of the “Letting Go” reading I got from yoga. I thought she might already be aware of it, but I wanted to show her just in case she wasn’t. I ended up reading it to her because I thought it was the best way to present that message. It took me a little longer to get through than I thought it would and I had to pause a few times for composure, but I read it out loud to her and she just loved it. She asked for a copy and I gave her the one I brought. I was so happy to share that message with her because I know she will pass it on to others, just as I have been doing. It will be heard tomorrow for the first time by a group of Coleen’s fellow metastatic survivors. I sent it to my friend Barb who in turn passed it on to several people. Tomorrow she will read it at the metastatic breast cancer support group she attends which is the same one Coleen attended, too. It will have very special meaning there because although the words will come from Barb’s mouth, they will come from Coleen. Just as I first heard Coleen deliver them to me through the voice of my yoga instructor, I know Barb will let those women in on the secret of “Letting Go.”
Sometimes I wonder why I do some of the things I do. And then I do them and something happens as a result and I say, “Oh, that’s why I did that.” It doesn’t always have to be a big thing like retiring or buying a new car. Sometimes it’s just deciding to go out for some music or to meet someone. Or today when I went to a yoga class at the last minute.
It wasn’t quite the last minute. I have actually been planning to go since Christmas when my daughter gave me a gift certificate to Healing Waters, the studio where Coleen attended so many classes. I also attended two separate six-week Intro to Yoga classes there and I was anxious to continue with yoga. Yesterday I had an epiphany telling me that I needed a lot more yoga in my life so I decided to attend the 9:30 AM class this morning. It was “Gentle and Restorative Yoga” and was one of Coleen’s favorite classes there. She attended it often. I will admit to procrastinating about yoga since Christmas and I was pleased with myself when I left the house a few minutes early this morning even though the temperature was below zero. I could have easily used the “it’s too cold to go anywhere” excuse, but I didn’t.
As I drove this morning, the sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly in my driver-side front window. There was a song playing in my car that I was hearing for the first time called “Until the Colours Run.” I didn’t know what it meant but I liked it. I drove past a patch of tall trees and the sunlight flickered through them and pulsed through my window onto my face, winking at me. The song hit the chorus, the sunlight perfect, open road ahead and a sudden surge of goosebumps made its way up and down my spine and through my crown. I was very peaceful just then, content, on my way to one of Coleen’s favorite places. Knowing I wasn’t alone.
Today was the first time I attended an official, open yoga class. Today I wasn’t just another beginner trying to learn yoga without pulling a muscle or making loud noises. I was in a class with people (women) who were experienced and I was expected to have a working knowledge of yoga. I was very comfortable with that and kind of proud actually when the instructor said “table position” or “downward-facing dog” and I knew what to do. I am still very much a beginner, but I didn’t feel out of place today. The Gentle and Restorative class is just that. It has a lot of stretching and restoration of the body using assorted yoga postures. What I especially liked about it was that it also stretches and restores the mind and the spirit through those same yoga postures. I was very receptive today and able to cleanse my mind of thoughts that didn’t belong in that room. I was very able to be present. I heard things differently today than before.
At one point our instructor Sue, had us in mountain posture which is basically just standing straight, still and strong. She was encouraging us in that posture and said “… like a mountain. Tremendous strength, incredible beauty.” Tremendous strength, incredible beauty. What a beautiful thing to hear. I have heard all those words before although never strung together in that sequence. And in hearing them spoken so confidently that way, I took confidence and comfort from them . I can be that. Everything can be that. Coleen epitomized that. I heard those words like it was the first time I had heard the English language. They sounded so inspiring to me.
I heard other things clearly today too. I heard my body talk to me, telling me it was okay to challenge it more. That it could absorb a little more stretching, it could go little further. And I heard my mind tell me the same things. It was ready to be cleansed of some emotional debris to make room for new creations and thoughts. And of course, I heard Coleen very clearly. It made sense that she was there. That was when I realized why I decided yesterday, after postponing for over a month, to attend yoga class today. It was when we were relaxing in meditative postures toward the end of the class. Sue was reading a beautiful reflection about letting go and behind my closed eyes, I was seeing the most brilliant shades of fuchsia I have seen. They were swimming in and out of clouds, playfully, changing shades from light to dark, tempting me to give chase. It was the same vision I have had during reikis and massages. The same vision I always get when Coleen visits. The colors were fitting of the message Sue was reading about letting go:
“…The energy will be a part of you forever. It has made you what you are today. What will be, will be what you create. If you move forward hopefully, happily, expectantly and joyfully, then that will be your new experience. We can drag the past with us as heavy baggage, or we can carry the blessings and memories of the past as a beautiful memento. We can face the future with apprehension or with faith. One thing is certain, there will always be a past we must make peace with. There will always be a future we must live. The way we let go can make all the difference.”
With the vision of fuchsias floating around those wonderful words spoken about letting go, I couldn’t help a few tears leaking from my eyes. I guess that was probably the point where the “Oh, that’s why I did that,” realization kicked in. That’s when I knew for certain why I did what I did today and why I was at Healing Waters. I had a date to be there. A date to learn about having Tremendous Strength and Incredible Beauty from the strongest, most beautiful person I’ll ever know.
This is the entire reflection that Sue read today. I think it’s beautiful and am so happy she shared it with me. You know, if I had waited until tomorrow or next week to attend a yoga class, I wouldn’t have heard this.
“Letting it go – it is a rite of passage. We all face those moments throughout our lives. Time and circumstance repeatedly require that we let go of what we know – the old, the familiar, the comfortable – and embrace the “next”. There are people who spend their whole lives resisting those moments. They hold on, physically or energetically to the past, and they never really find peace in the present. Whether we must move beyond a person, a property, an employment, a location, an activity or something else, we have only two choices. We can go gently and easily – or not. We can go confidently – or fearfully. We can go looking forward – or looking back. We can hold on, or we can let go. What has been, whether you judge it good or bad, has been filled with lessons, and blessings, and experiences. Honor them all. Take the time to remember with gratitude and appreciation. Understand that nothing you have ever done will ever be lost. The energy will be a part of you forever. It has made you what you are today. What will be, will be what you create. If you move forward hopefully, happily, expectantly and joyfully, then that will be your new experience. We can drag the past with us as heavy baggage, or we can carry the blessings and memories of the past as a beautiful momento. We can face the future with apprehension or with faith. One thing is certain. there will always be a past we must make peace with. There will always be a future we must live. The way we let go can make all the difference.”
I am confident that this new week will be much better than the one I just had. Last week was full of challenging situations that I got sucker punched by. A couple old wounds got reopened but I managed to stop the bleeding pretty quickly.
Things started with a road trip to NYC to see Patrick and meet my new daughter-in-law. Then I attended a wellness seminar and listened to a brilliant man say stupid things. Two days after that, I was a guest in a Catholic church for a memorial service in Coleen’s honor and I heard a woman who I didn’t know talk about the departed and say Coleen’s name. I heard the same thing the next day at my church when our priest listed the names of people who had died last year. Not only did she say “Coleen M. Jones” but she also said my mom’s name. At both services I heard several references to “the light” which was always Coleen’s driving force and at my church, there was much mention of change, which I have been doing a lot of. I had dinner with family and friends where Coleen was remembered and toasted and I talked about her and some of my memories. There was even an episode on a show I am watching where a man loses his girlfriend to an overdose and keeps dialing her number so he can hear her voice mail recording. I’ve never done that but I still have Coleen in my phone.
So it was a weird week in that I kept coming in contact with Coleen. Driving to NYC, I was on the same road we traveled many times and was reminded of conversations and eating apples and just being with her. We made many road trips over the years and Coleen’s conversations and observations made them all more fun. Last week on the way to NYC I kept looking over at the empty seat next to me. She never rode in my car, never met her daughter-in-law. Everything now is new.
At the wellness seminar, the main speaker was a guy from the Hippocrates Health Institute which is where Coleen went for alternative healing last year. She was there for two weeks and was very dedicated to their program although she hated the raw food diet and got sick from the wheat-grass juice. Many people have better results there than Coleen did but she brought home a lot of good habits and enjoyed her time there. She did not however, experience the same success as others and I left the seminar that night saddened by that fact. Why not her? Why not us, our family? Call me naive, but I didn’t see that sadness coming. I was annoyed with the speaker who spent most of his time pontificating about the merits of his logic and that we have control of our own health. At first I was annoyed, then I was mad.
Hearing Coleen’s name spoken with reference to death like I did in those church services is unsettling to me. I know she died but I guess I don’t want to hear about it or acknowledge it. Or admit it? I don’t know, it is pretty silly. Maybe that’s why I haven’t selected a gravestone yet. Truth is, I just now paused before typing “gravestone” wondering if that was the right thing to call it and summoning the nerve to type it. To admit that we need to buy that thing, whatever it’s called. To need a gravestone, there has to be a grave. To need a grave, someone had to die. Did that really happen? Sometimes, even now, it’s hard to face that reality.
When talking to friends after dinner two nights ago, we spoke of how our memories are not as clear as they once were. We all agreed that something has happened to us that has diminished our ability to remember as well as we once did. Some blamed it on age and some of us thought it had to do with medications. One guy once told me he thought it was the vodka. The whole conversation reminded me of one my greatest fears and that is me forgetting some of the memories Coleen and I made together. Without her around to remember things I had forgotten, it’s all on me to preserve them. She was much better at remembering than I was.
Not everything that happened last week made me think of Coleen, it just seemed that way to me. This week is already starting better. I decided to learn a lesson from that speaker at the wellness seminar. He said that most of our ailments are self-controllable and can be managed or reversed by our eating and health habits. I don’t believe all of his theory but I’m man enough to meet him halfway on some of it. I decided that maybe I can control some of my emotions about Coleen if I better prepare myself spiritually. In other words, if I work harder on things like yoga, meditation and self-healing, I can put myself in a better place to accept some of the surprise reminders that I am bound to encounter. I can’t just count on reiki and massage for my healing, I have to contribute on my own, too. I am going to jump-start myself with daily yoga and meditation activities. I have been doing them sporadically but need to get more consistent. I did them today along with a gym workout and feel pretty great right now. And tomorrow morning there is yoga class I will be attending. There is no reason I can’t make myself healthier in body and spirit. There’s no reason for bad weeks.
When Coleen was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 2007, I was like most husbands. Lost and helpless. I didn’t understand the disease, diagnosis, treatment or the future. I was scared for Coleen, for us and for our family and I wanted to fix her. There had to be some answer on the internet or hidden somewhere that could provide a cure for her. There had to be something I could do to make a difference.
Coleen was always very interested in food. Even as a child she would sometimes read cookbooks and that never stopped for her. She loved to find recipes, make them and serve them with love to her family and friends. It was one of her many ways of showing love. Of course, Coleen loved to eat good food too and I always thought that was why she liked to cook so much. During her initial rounds of chemotherapy, Coleen didn’t always have much of an appetite and sometimes struggled to take in the proper amount of nourishment. It was important for her to maintain her strength and eat well and I tried to help with that.
Now that I live alone, buying food and cooking for myself has become a challenge. I enjoy it, I just want to get better at it and buy the right amounts of the right ingredients so that I can cook and eat well while minimizing waste. That’s probably a goal of most cooks I guess. Coleen certainly left me with enough recipes to last a long time but I could not find the one for the cauliflower soup. Admittedly, it had been a long time since we made it but the recipe had to be here somewhere because she always kept the good ones. I couldn’t find it so I consulted my friend Google and found hundreds of recipes for cauliflower soup. There was one that was similar to our original and met my required standards of easy, good and quick clean-up.
I love that recipe and I love that soup. I have made it three times now during the past month and it keeps getting better. I learned from Coleen to never be afraid of modifying a recipe when you figure a way to make it better. She did that a lot. When I made the soup yesterday, I added a pinch of crushed red pepper and a potato and instead of pureeing it at the end in a blender, I used a potato masher and did it by hand. That left the soup with small chunks of the vegetables instead of creaming it all. I liked it much better that way.
The past week wasn’t without its share of challenge for me and it all caught up to me yesterday. I was feeling out of sorts and like I had lost some of my traction. After a very healing reiki session and advice from Lindsay and Rebecca, I was feeling a little better. Tired, but better. I stopped for groceries and the first thing I saw in the store was cauliflower and even though I had just made the soup two weeks ago, I bought another head. It just felt like I needed it.
Can cauliflower soup be therapeutic? In my case it mostly certainly is. It takes me back to Coleen and her fight and reminds me that I helped her with that. I think of her when making it and I know she would be happy with my interest, effort, and hopefully, the results. My cauliflower soup provides the perfect diversion for me. It gives me a task that is easily performed and completed and leaves me with warmth, comfort and satisfaction. I can put on some music, open a beer, and have homemade soup within the hour. It’s not the exact recipe as before, but it’s close. That’s okay though, because nothing is exactly the same anymore. It’s like that branch falling off the tree and a new one growing to replace the fallen. Same type of branch, different spot, different shade. Same type of soup, different recipe, different taste. Different me.
I have anticipated a lot of what my future would look like. I knew that there were difficult days ahead, days that would be triggers for sadness and reminders of my life before losing Coleen. Some of those days had already happened and I managed to get through them somehow. Days like my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve had all come and gone. Each of those days and occasions brought its own set of tears and emotion and I know they always will. Just like the full moon and 18th of every month will never go unnoticed by me again. There are many more milestones ahead for me and I am particularly concerned about Valentine’s Day, Coleen’s birthday (March 8th), and our anniversary (June 6th). I know those days are coming. They are on my calendar of grief and I anticipate them.
What I can’t anticipate are days like I had three days ago. I know that I will forever encounter new people, places and things without Coleen at my side. I know that my memories of her will have to last me now. I also know that I will always think about her missing those new things I am discovering and how I miss her being with me as I discover them. I still want to share all that with her and expect part of me always will.
Three days ago I met our brand new daughter-in-law. Her name is Semra and she is a very sweet and very beautiful woman. Semra and Patrick met in New York City a year and a half ago and were wedded last month. In keeping with his tradition of not doing the ordinary, Patrick never said anything about Semra or a wedding until he told me last week. I was happy to hear that they were not pregnant. Patrick as a husband is kind of shock to my system. Him as father could do serious damage to me.
I was very excited to meet Semra and welcome her to our family. But I was very sad to do it alone. Before I left for New York I thought about how special that event was going to be. To meet the girl who your son fell in love with and married. And I thought that Coleen and I should have been meeting her together. Coleen would have been so excited. I’m sure that she and I would have started packing for NYC right after Patrick’s phone call and we would have been there within 24 hours. This was one of those extra special life events that were so important to Coleen and I.
Coleen worked so hard on Patrick and worried so much about him. She had such love for him and sometimes over-mothered him with advise and guidance. And with his personality, the more she did that , the more he rejected her advice. Coleen always wanted him to settle in to the mainstream of life. Get a good job, get insurance, get married, have kids. She didn’t get to see any of that. She was patient with him and realized all of that would happen when he decided it was time. She often wondered about the woman who would someday fall in love with him, quirks and all. Coleen said that woman was going to have to be a saint or at least someone very special to love Patrick. I never argued with that point.
When I arrived at their apartment three days ago, Semra was out shopping so Patrick and I unpacked my car and carried in the stereo equipment I brought for them. We had started to hook it up when she came home and Semra and I introduced ourselves. She held out her hand and I took it but quickly pulled her into a hug. I told her I was happy to meet her and as my daughter-in-law, she should expect to be hugged. We settled in, talked a lot then all went for a walk, stopped in a pool hall for some ping pong, then on to dinner. It was a fun day.
As excited as I was about meeting Semra, she must have been just as nervous about meeting me. Patrick would have told her not to be, that I was friendly, but she had to be a little anxious about meeting her husband’s dad. Parents can always be a little intimidating. I think she was comfortable with me right away. I say that because I was comfortable with her right away. She was very sweet and charming. She is very pretty with dark hair and big brown eyes and she has a wonderful Turkish accent. Semra and I had a few moments to speak alone and I could tell how she loves Patrick a lot. I talked to her some about Coleen and showed her some photos and I know Semra will want to know more about her. I will be all too happy to tell Semra about her mother-in-law.
Coleen would have loved Semra. They would have talked about food, family, NYC, books, restaurants, Turkey and lots more. Coleen would have seen the love in Patrick’s eyes and the way he looked at his wife and she would have been very happy about that. She would have seen his wedding ring and it might have made her laugh a little thinking that was something she would never see. Of course Coleen never did see that because it all happened after she died. That last paragraph was just me playing make-believe because it will never happen. Coleen will never meet Semra or hear Patrick say “Mom, this is Semra, Semra this is my mom.” And then break into a huge smile and give her a big hug. They will never cook in the same kitchen or dote over a baby.
Lots of people have asked me if I’ve gone through the “being angry” stage of grieving. I haven’t really felt too much of that so far although some things have angered me along the way. Generally, I have not experienced an overwhelming amount of anger. But this just pisses me off. Much like our granddaughters being deprived of Coleen’s love pisses me off, this does too. These are the things about grief and loss that sneak up on you from behind. These are the types of things you don’t anticipate until they happen to you.
I was very happy and very excited about meeting Semra. I like her and look forward to seeing her often and to her being a very important part of our family. I can’t wait for her to meet Lindsay, the girls and Aunt Karen and I think everyone will love her. I can’t help it though, the emotional impact of meeting Semra without Coleen. Of having the discovery of a new daughter-in-law without Coleen with me to share the experience. I couldn’t plan for my sorrow of meeting Semra without Coleen. I never anticipated it. That day wasn’t on my calendar.
