I don’t remember where I first heard it, but I do recall it was with Coleen. We were on vacation somewhere and we read a quote that said “In the mountains, we forget to count the days.” Well I am going to modify that to read “In Ft. Lauderdale, I forget to count the days.”
I am at day six of my seven day stay here and it is like no vacation I have ever taken. I am alone with no schedule, no deadlines, no car, no showtimes to catch, nothing to be late for. I have all day to do nothing and I am getting pretty good at managing all my time.
Exactly one week after Coleen’s death, I was encouraged to take a month and just go hang out on a beach somewhere by myself. At the time I thought it was a nice idea but didn’t take it seriously. Even though the person doing the encouraging was Coleen. More about that later.
At that time I was about four days away from returning to work and felt a responsibility to do just that. My employers had been very kind and understanding during Coleen’s sickness and I did not want to take advantage of the situation. I also thought the length of time was a little too long. I mean what was I going to do for a whole month by myself? That’s a lot of books and a lot of sand.
I returned to work on schedule and somehow managed to drag myself through most of that week. All the time thinking, though, what am I doing here? What do I really want and need? I knew that I didn’t want that job any longer. The stress and tension it caused me had already taken a toll and I felt much too fragile to continue to deflect it away. Rebecca encouraged me to think about myself first, what I wanted. My daughters did the same.
I invited my practical side into the discussion and started playing with numbers and figures. Or as the song goes, “I was just guessing, numbers and figures, tearing her puzzles apart.” I prepared a budget based on me with little or no income. With me quitting my job and going into retirement mode. It looked like it would work but I was thinking maybe I was missing something. I mean, how could it be possible that I could quit working at 60? I met with Kent, my financial adviser and he agreed, “Rob, it looks like you thought of everything. You might have to cut some corners but this can work for you.”
Cut some corners to stop working? I was ready to make that deal. I talked to my bosses and told them of my decision. I was sorry to be leaving them so suddenly but I had to what was right for me and working for them wasn’t it. Two weeks later I walked out the door there for the last time.
During those two weeks, several things happened resulting in me being in Florida. Probably the most significant of those was when my daughter Lindsay and son in law Mike arranged a timeshare trade for a week they were not able to use. They found a beautiful ocean view condo in Ft Lauderdale where I am staying, and booked it almost before I could say “yes, please.” I had accumulated many free Southwest Air miles and found direct flights. And I received more counseling and reiki from Rebecca and she thought it would be a great opportunity for me to be alone and nurture my healing. She was right, everybody was right, including me and Coleen.
Now here I am on my balcony, shirtless, ocean breezes messing my hair and helping me heal. I am doing something I have always loved and wanted to do. This morning I woke up with an old Harry Chapin song in my head. It’s called “Taxi” and in it he sings “She was going to be an actress and I was going to learn to fly…” but for me, I was going to learn to write. Feels like I’m finally getting that chance.
My biggest daily decisions down here are what time (or times) should I go to the beach and where should I have dinner. And the easiest question to answer is when can I make time to write? All day, every day, wherever I am, whoever is around. I have many random thoughts and ideas for articles and I try to write them all down so I can work on them later but some have gotten away from me. That does not worry me though because I’m certain they will return when it is time. Sometimes I feel guilty because I want to spend time writing and think I should be on the beach vacationing with my Stephen King novel and a cold Heineken. But the writing part is so much fun for me I feel like I’m on vacation anyway. It certainly doesn’t feel like work. So I compromise and take my journal and pen with me wherever I go. And a cold Heineken.
I recall listening to a live recording of singer/songwriter Neil Young from sometime in the early 70’s during an especially prolific songwriting period for him. While introducing his next song, which he had just written,he said, “I’ve had so many songs come to me lately, I don’t know what else to do except sing them.”
I’ve had so many thoughts and things to say, I don’t know either. So for now, I just write them down and keep them safe.
The day after Coleen’s funeral service was a difficult day. Actually every day was difficult at that time but this particular day was more so. It was the first day that the smoke had settled and all the memorializing and planning and arranging and having company was done. This was the first day that I was in the house without having somewhere else to be or someone else to host. As had become my custom during the weeks leading up to Coleen’s death, I was home that day nesting. I was doing laundry, cleaning, organizing, fussing with things that needed little if any attention. I was tasking to keep my mind off other, more important things that I didn’t want to deal with.
That morning I was in our bedroom putting some clothes away. I had a couple of Coleen’s tops folded and out of habit as much as anything, wanted to put them in the proper drawer. I wasn’t sure how she organized everything and the truth was it didn’t really matter if I put them in the wrong drawer or not. I was just trying to get them somewhere out of sight and a drawer seemed like the right place.
So I took a chance and and pulled open one of her drawers. I chose the right one because sitting there, on top of the clothes already inside was a piece of paper. More than that, it was actually a page from one of those page a day calendars that had been ripped from the rest of that year’s pages. It’s border was a field of sunflowers. It’s message was:
Only good lies ahead and I am safe
I had known Coleen to take comfort in inspirational messages like this. She was in the habit of posting these messages in places where she would notice them at random times, almost by accident. She wanted to be reminded of her strength and incredible healing powers. And she wanted to be reminded that things would somehow be okay.
I have no doubt that Coleen planted that message in that drawer with those intentions in mind. But I didn’t think of that when I pulled the drawer open and saw that staring at me. I absolutely froze in my tracks and literally gasped. It caught me so off guard. It was as if she was talking to me. It was exactly like she was talking to me. She was talking to me.
Only good lies ahead and I am safe
I picked it up and just sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to breathe. It was such an emotional moment for me, perhaps one of the strongest of all. That page, those words were originally meant for her to help her heal and be strong. And they were meant for her in her final days. But they were also there to be discovered by me to help me in my healing. That phrase has become my mantra and I say it constantly. The word “safe” has taken on an entirely new meaning for me as I hear it in different places, spoken by different people. It has become one of my favorite words in this journey. Being safe. Arriving safely. Only good lies ahead and I am safe.
I have mentioned that I thought Coleen had left some gifts behind, little treasures to be discovered that would serve as medicine for the pain. This was certainly one of those gifts. I think she meant for that to be found. And now it sits atop my dresser in a very prominent place. I see it every day.
I want to introduce a new person who entered my life just as Coleen left it. Her name is Rebecca and she is a reiki therapist and life coach and she is the last gift Coleen gave me.
Coleen had been going to Rebecca for reiki therapy and she loved it. I was not familiar with reiki and Coleen was never able to fully explain it to me. That wasn’t her fault, I’m sure she tried. I probably wasn’t listening closely enough because I was distracted by some football game or newspaper. I thought it was one of Coleen’s holistic things that was good for her and that’s all that mattered. I liked it that she liked it. I liked it that it made her feel better. I only wish I had paid better attention.
At this point I should probably not assume that everyone knows what reiki is especially since I didn’t know myself. According to The International Center for Reiki Training, “Reiki is a Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also promotes healing. It is administered by “laying on hands” and is based on the idea that an unseen “life force energy” flows through us and is what causes us to be alive. If one’s “life force energy” is low, then we are more likely to get sick or feel stress, and if it is high, we are more capable of being happy and healthy.”
During her last week or so, Coleen was very sick and pretty much in bed all the time. Her voice had been reduced to a raspy whisper and she was not able to talk on the phone. When her phone rang she would hand it to me or whoever else was around to answer it. One of those calls was from Rebecca who I did not know. She wanted to visit Coleen and give her reiki at home. A house call. I thought that was great so we made an appointment that was never kept.
Coleen passed away two days before her reiki appointment with Rebecca. I managed to remember about the appointment and sent Rebecca a text telling her about Coleen. She texted me back with many words of encouragement and she mentioned that Coleen had reiki sessions waiting for me. At that time I was consumed in emotion and planning Coleen’s memorial and I once again did not pay as close attention as I should have.
Several days later, Rebecca sent me another text reminding me of the sessions and asking me to call her. When I did I asked what she meant by “reikis waiting for me.” She explained, “Rob, Coleen told me that you would take her dying very hard and you would need a lot of help. She thought that I could help you with that so she bought several reiki sessions for you before she passed.”
Coleen was aware that her end was nearing and she had the love and caring and foresight to be concerned with what I was going to be dealing with after her. In addition to all of her own issues. Around that same time one of her hospice doctors asked her if she was afraid. “I’m not afraid of dying,” Coleen said, “but I am afraid of leaving my family.” Her protection of family became very important to her at the end. It was something she had always done and one of the last things she still had any control over.
Coleen knew that I would be receptive to Rebecca and the guidance she could give me. She always knew what was best for me and it was always well before I knew it. Typically I would put up some stupid objection when she had a great idea about something I should do, something that was good for me. I rarely agreed to much of anything when it was first presented. It had to have an incubation period. In this case though, I didn’t have time to delay. I knew what Coleen knew: I was going to need help coping with her loss and I was going to need it quickly.
Now back to that phone call with Rebecca. Once I realized the significance of what Coleen had done for me, the wonderful gift, I tried to continue my conversation with Rebecca but I was just simply overcome. Coleen never said a word to me or anyone else about me and Rebecca and reiki.
Rebecca and I did manage to finish that telephone call and we set up a consultation where she described what she does, how reiki works and how she also uses sound therapy. It was all very interesting to me and I was all in on everything. My logic was simply that if Coleen thought it was a good idea, I was going to do it.
But the true magic of that consultation was the way Rebecca talked to me and soothed me. She told me about how Coleen thought of me, that I was so special to her and that she loved me so much and felt so terrible about leaving. Coleen told her I would be going through some very big changes. And Rebecca told me that everything was going to be ok, that I had the ability to get better and to heal. She has such a calming presence, you can not help but be persuaded by her energies and enthusiasm. She is also well stocked with tissues which I have needed a few times.
Since that first meeting, I have had several reiki and sound therapies with Rebecca. I had little idea what to expect but I am now a believer. Rebecca has the ability to comfort me, put me into a meditative state where I think of nothing, but am somehow aware of everything at the same time. She plays music, listens to my thoughts, helps me breathe, pulls out my fears and feelings and teaches me about my truths and my chakras.
In a quote on her website, Rebecca said “I am a gardener of souls,” and she truly is. My reply to that would be “And I am the soil. You plant things in me and help them grow.” I don’t know where I would be today without Coleen’s last gift to me. Rebecca’s guidance and knowledge are gifts that keep giving. Gifts that are healing and gifts that make me safe.
Today when I am in the pool swimming, I am different. Never a confident swimmer, I am now a champion. My strokes are strong and smooth, cutting easily through the water and pushing it aside. My legs and feet are tireless, churning and causing mild waves in their wake. My breath is long lasting as I go underwater for remarkable lengths of time. I do not panic for air as I approach the wall, knowing that I have enough in reserve to arrive safely.
I float on my back with the water a bed of comfort and trust, supporting me as I look skyward into the brightness of the sun. Still on my back with my ears barely submerged in the water, I can hear my breathing. It is calm and peaceful. I am calm and peaceful. Arriving safely.
I have taken great comfort in meeting people Coleen knew outside of the orbit she and I shared together. She was a tremendously hard worker and talented social worker and in her occupation, met and helped many people with cancer diagnoses. I have also met friends of hers from her metastatic breast cancer support group and colleagues from other cancer organizations whom she frequently worked closely with.
They all loved her. Coleen was the type of person who could spin positives on almost any situation. She was a wealth of resource and provided advice and encouragement seemingly without trying. It was so natural for her.
Of course, I already knew most of this but still took comfort in hearing it from others. About two weeks after her passing (sorry, can’t seem to use the “death”), I received an email from a friend and colleague of Coleen’s with a link to a blogpost about her. It was written by a patient Coleen had touched and helped and is such a wonderful tribute to her and the relationship she fostered with others. Her name is Leah and she is a cancer survivor and a pretty regular blogger. I have not yet met her except through her article. I would like to. I think she would be another one of those outside the orbit people whom I would find comfort with.
