Today I had an appointment with my cardiologist. It was a check-up but actually a little more than that. The last time I saw Dr. Cobler was only six months ago and she had some cause for alarm at that time.
My heart history is not good. In fact, it sucks. My dad, his dad and my mother’s dad all died from heart issues. Congestive heart failures and a heart attack. To top that off, I have had a heart murmur since i was nine as the result of a misdiagnosed strep infection that turned into something called rheumatic fever. That disease is so obsolete these days. I remember having check-up a few years ago and an intern was shadowing my doctor. She was amazed to meet someone still alive who had rheumatic fever. I felt like a dinosaur.
Dr.Cobler didn’t like the looks of my heart’s aortic valve which is the one damaged by the strep infection. There is a lot of scar tissue in that thing and it doesn’t close or seal all the way. That lets blood seep back into the heart chamber that is supposed to be in my circulatory system. The result is a loss of stamina, energy and shortness of breath from time to time. They do annual sonogram type testing on me so that can measure any worsening of the valve’s condition. She didn’t like the last look so she scheduled another one for six months instead of 12. I had that last week and went today for my follow-up to see how I was.
The point of this post is not about my broken heart. I will finish that part of the story though by reporting that Dr. Cobler felt better about the latest echo test and said it actually looked better than the last one. I will someday require a heart valve replacement, but it looks like I can wait a little longer for that.
The point of this post is the conversation I had with Dr. Cobler at the end of my examination. Mind you, she is very busy and always seems to be rushed. Under normal circumstances, the actual time spent with Dr. Cobler is somewhere around 7 minutes, tops. She is very efficient and thorough, but there is little time for extra conversation. Today I pushed that a little bit.
Six months ago when Dr. Cobler voiced her concerns about my heart valve, I kept everything to myself. Coleen was very sick and I was very consumed by that. There was no reason for Coleen to know about my doctor’s concerns so I didn’t say anything to her or anyone else. I barely thought about it myself. I also didn’t say anything to my doctor at that time about Coleen’s condition. Everything was between me and myself. Coleen never knew about Dr.Cobler and Dr. Cobler never knew about Coleen.
I was nervous before seeing my doctor today because I had no idea what I was going to hear. The news was better than I thought it would be but I still have a chronic situation that is serious and will not get better. I will ultimately need open heart surgery. But that aside, before Dr. Cobler concluded with me,I opened up to her. They are always interested in what’s happening in the patient’s life that might be causing stress or a change in lifestyle so I told her that I was no longer working and that I had lost my wife. Dr. Cobler immediately put her schedule on hold, expressed how sorry she was, and listened to me. I told her about Coleen and I being in love and her being sick and me losing her. I talked about my journey in and out of stress and grief. I brought up how special Coleen was and how I was being helped by a reiki practitioner and a massage therapist and other people I keep meeting as I go.
Dr. Cobler was very interested in what I had to say. When I mentioned my feelings on men stifling their emotions and keeping things inside, she commented on how bad that is for their physical being as well as their mental state. She was intrigued about reiki as a healer and how I was progressing through my loss. It wasn’t like she set aside time to have lunch with me, but we had a pretty good and unrushed conversation about death and healing. I felt very good about that.
I felt good that she listened and was interested in what I had to say. I think I might have told her some things that she was not aware of. That’s hard to do with a doctor. Not only are they very intelligent but sometimes seem reluctant to accept information from outside their networks of mainstream. Like what I was talking about. Because of my conversation with Dr. Cobler and her reaction to it, I left her office with a reinforced sense of purpose and commitment. I felt like I got through to her on some level. I felt like another little piece of my message was developed and delivered to someone significant. Someone else who could make a difference and who would look good as a member of my network.
I always try to keep my ears and eyes open for messages. In the last three days I have seen or heard several things that I have interpreted as messages meant for me. A wise sage once told me that if seems like a message, it is a message and I have subscribed to that belief ever since.
I found this on facebook two days ago. It is the quote from Glinda, the good witch, to Dorothy about her red slippers. Glinda said, “You’ve always had the power, my dear. You just had to learn it for yourself.” Is that right? Do we all possess the power lying dormant somewhere inside us? Are we all learning the lessons necessary to unleash it and let good come from it? Do we know when we have the knowledge or is it just automatically released when the time is right? I believe all those questions apply to me and my answers are yes to all of them except the last one. That answer is we don’t get to decide when we have learned enough to recognize our power. It decides for us.
At my reiki therapy and consultation three days ago, Rebecca and I spent considerable time discussing some of my discoveries and where they might be leading me. We are both excited about my future in writing, speaking and communicating my message to those who have also suffered loss. Rebecca is very encouraging and supportive and keeps telling me that I have something special happening. Just as we were sitting down for our post-reiki debriefing, she held out a small box of cards and told me to select one. I took one from the middle of the box and she opened it to find a quote from Walt Disney, “If you can dream it, you can do it.” Disney took a lot of criticism for his dreams but he stayed true to himself and accomplished much more than anyone thought he would. I’ll never approach Walt Disney’s accomplishments, but a dream is a dream.
An article I read recently listed several ways that the spirit of a departed loved one communicates to those of us left behind. According to the article, one of the most common methods is through song and music. II now that my daughter Lindsay feels that her mom talk to her through the car radio,sending her sial songs at species times. I recall one incident after Coleen’s funeral brunch. We had all gathered at Lindsay’s house and I was tired and emotionally drained and took a few minutes to lie down on her living room couch. She had her television tuned to a music channel and as I was face up on her couch, the bright sun flickered through the leaves on a tree in her front yard. The sunlight was playing peek-a-boo through the leaves, alternately shining brightly in my eyes then hiding behind a leaf. A new song came on the television called “Blinded by the Light.”
Today I was driving to church with a Pandora music channel playing in my car. The second or third song that came on was “This Must Be Love,” by Ricki Lee Jones. It is a fairly obscure song and there is nothing profound about the lyrics. But Coleen and I always played a lot of Ricki Lee Jones music and this song was especially meaningful to us. It was part of the soundtrack of our life together. When it first came on today, I reached for the button that would skip the current song and play the next one. I loved the song but didn’t think I was ready to hear it yet. Then I stopped myself and let the song play and let myself melt into the memory of it. I laughed into the subtle tears that leaked from my eyes as I remembered the times that song played in our house.
As if that wasn’t enough, the next song to play was. Coleen wasn’t as much of a Fleetwood Mac fan as I am but she liked much of their music. One of my favorite songs is called “Gypsy” and it’s one of those Stevie Nicks classics that kind of keeps moving along and has abstract, mystical lyrics. I have heard “Gypsy” hundreds of times but for some reason, it sounded a little different when it came on today. Maybe it was my state of mind from the song before or maybe it was me remembering the times that Coleen dressed as a gypsy for Halloween parties. Or maybe it was the new message I was hearing. The song lyrics as a whole make little sense to me but there are several lines of lyrics that are very much on point and seem to have new expression for me today:
She is dancing away from you now
She was just a wish
And her memory is all that is left for you now
Lightning strikes
Maybe once maybe twice
And it all comes down to you
I still see your bright eyes bright eyes
And I’ve always loved you
And it all comes down to you
It all comes down to you
Directions, instructions, advice, guidance? Messages in music? From facebook and tear-open thought-provoking cards? In the moon and in my dreams? The messages are everywhere. All I have to do is pay attention and let my awareness work.
I wonder if it’s normal to use certain behaviors with the intention of trying to keep someone alive. If people psychologically put off saying goodbye to someone who has died by keeping things in place and refusing to change arrangements.
Not only do I think people do it, I think I am doing it. Coleen passed away almost four months ago. That may not seem that long ago but it’s also been 120 days. That means I have gone to bed alone and gotten up in the morning alone 120 times. That means I have spent 120 days thinking about how much I miss her and that I’m not going to see her again. It sounds different to me that way even though it’s the same amount of time.
So why haven’t I cleaned my bedroom closet? It’s funny that I said “my bedroom closet” because Coleen always referred to our bedroom as her room. Anyway, all of her stuff is still in the bedroom closet. I haven’t removed anything except some sweaters that I took off a shelf and put in a box upstairs. I only did that to make room for some sweaters of my own. Other than that, it’s all the same as she left it. Shoes piled in a corner, clothes hanging, some purses and bags on the floor. I have enough room in there for my stuff but it would be more comfortable with the extra space I guess. Especially on the shelves.
If I clean out the closet and send her clothes to a charity, am I saying another goodbye? If I leave it all alone, am I somehow trying to keep her alive? I already know from the experiences of selling her car, donating her winter coats, cleaning the bathroom, and going through some drawers that stirring up memories from that can be very painful. I think that’s part of why everything still remains untouched.
Some of her things I have left out like books and mementos on her nightstand, her yoga mat and a small table she used for meditation. I admit they are almost like a shrine to her. I take comfort in all that stuff being exactly where it is. It doesn’t bother me to see it and it’s certainly not in my way. But am I secretly prolonging her life? Delaying saying that goodbye? Tricking myself into something that’s not real? I guess that’s up to a psychiatrist to determine.
How about her urn? That might be an interesting case study in closure, or lack of closure. Coleen’s urn and ashes are still in my dining room atop the window seat under two windows. It sits there innocently surrounded by some very healthy plants that I water and care for. Every once in a while I touch her urn. It’s a very smooth marble and it feels good to touch it. There have also been times when I have knelt and placed my forehead on it, kissed it and shed tears. I like having it here but I know the day is coming that I’ll have to say goodbye to that as well. I’ll have to say goodbye all over again and that will come with more pain. I almost regret not burying it last fall after I bought the plots for us. That goodbye would have already happened. Coleen and I agreed that she would be remembered in that little cemetery she used to ride her bike through and it’s my job to take of that. It will be better for her parents and family to have a place to go with flowers, prayers and memories of their own instead of me hoarding her in my dining room. There is light perpetual in that cemetery that will shine upon her.
I often think about how Coleen would have done things if our fates had been reversed. She was not as sentimental as I am and I believe it would have been easier for her to rid herself of my possessions without developing emotional attachments. That’s not to say she wasn’t at all sentimental because she was. Just more pragmatic than me. She would have dealt with my loss better than I am dealing with hers and many of the issues I have would not have troubled her nearly as much. She would have her own set of difficulties and grief but she would not wrestle with the same things I do.
Getting back to my original question, I do not think I am doing anything wrong by my actions or lack of actions. It’s probably true that I feel like I’m keeping things alive by not ridding my house of Coleen’s clothes. I realize though, that’s not how you keep someone alive. Not with clothes and urns and books on night stands. The real ways we keep people alive is by talking about them and remembering them in stories we tell and lessons we’ve learned. It’s in the photos we look at that trigger all those wonderful memories. I honor Coleen everyday in the way I think and talk to people and father our children. Her values are part of me and part of how I keep her alive. She’s alive in the recipes I make and the writing I do. Not in a car or a closet. She’s alive in her children and granddaughters. She’s alive as my inspiration for growth and discovery. When I say I want to help those who have suffered a devastating loss, much of that is her helping people through me. She’ll always be alive in the messages she sends me and through the moon, the wind, and the light.
Writing is funny in its own little therapeutic way. When I started this post, I wasn’t sure where I was going with it or exactly what I was going to say. Then thoughts became words and words became a sentence and before long I reached my own resolution. It’s like some kind of self therapy. Like talking to myself.
Sometimes I have so many things running through my head that I get confused and some of my thoughts get misplaced. You wouldn’t think that a retired guy would have so many things to think about, but I do. I’m not talking so much about the routine tasks of life, like shopping, cleaning, cooking and laundry. I’m talking more about my new tasks of growth and discovery. I am trying to put those things in some kind of context and keep them there. That is becoming more difficult because I keep developing more and varied ideas and I try to fit them in with the main flow of things. I am usually a very organized person and I’m stretching the limits of that ability to keep things flowing.
Coleen had a habit of making notes to herself containing reminders of things she needed or wanted to do. Those notes could be found mostly at her bedside or in the kitchen on our counter. Sometimes they resembled a shopping list and other times just seemed like a rambling stream of expression. They helped her with her life, though and I am still finding them in random places. I have also adopted that technique so that I can protect some of the fleeting thoughts that dance through my consciousness from escaping through some secret tunnel in my brain. If I don’t write these thoughts down as I encounter them, I might never get them back and I am so selfish about memories and messages these days, I can’t let that happen.
I am troubled by my inability so far to properly define my new role. I am anxious to not just define it, but to develop and activate it. I seem to have a vision but it’s still a little blurry. I get a little closer to the target then get sidetracked by a different set of thoughts. That’s where the organizational part of this comes in handy. And where my business experience can help me.
In my previous life as a working member of society and contributor to our economic system, I was employed in a management position. And in that role two jobs ago, I was often called upon for my input in developing and implementing corporate strategy. I enjoyed that and became very good at it as I quickly learned the methods and tools used to map out strategies for success. I don’t mean to turn my personal growth and discovery process into a marketing plan, but there are lessons I learned from those days that can be valuable to me now.
When I attended the strategic meetings with the company management and ownership, there were always several flip charts mounted on easels positioned about the room. And some masking tape and a pile of magic markers in various colors. I wondered what method that madness provided and quickly found out that their concept was to make everything visible. So when a statement was made or an idea expressed that seemed worthy of further discussion, it was written down on one of the flip charts and kept for future reference. Once a page was filled it would be torn from the chart and taped to the wall. Always visible. Always there to be looked at and reminded of and added to. And they were always organized into “small, manageable units” so the overall task would never be overwhelming. I have that in my office. One flip chart, one roll of masking tape, three markers and three pages torn off and taped to the wall so far. It helps me to capture and organize my thoughts just like Coleen used to do for herself with her lists.
Another tool used in these sessions was the creation of a list titled “What Learned.” This list would also be taped to the wall and would be a running list of items or revelations uncovered during the sessions. These were basically lessons learned while conversing and brainstorming and were usually turned into opportunities. I have one of those on my office wall too and it is a full-page list of things I have learned and continue to learn on my journey. I now need a second page and probably will need more after that. The learning never seems to stop. For my purpose, these lessons create not only opportunity but become part of my discovery process as well.
Many of the methods and planning exercises I learned in those corporate meetings translate well to Love, Loss & Healing. Instead of increasing profits, I am trying to develop ways to increase awareness. It’s a totally different purpose but there’s no reason I can’t use some of the same infrastructure to get there. It’s not being used by anyone else anymore so I might as well claim it for my own. The way I see it, in order to get myself more organized and focused I need to have some kind of mission statement or goal or idea of what I’m after. What am I?.
I am a communicator of life lessons learned through the loss of my soul mate and the discoveries I have made since. Through written and spoken expressions, I actively seek out those who have experienced loss in an effort to provide comfort, resource and enlightenment to them. I constantly seek knowledge from sages, practitioners and organizations and strive to build networks of knowledge to better communicate my truths of love, loss, healing and discovery.
Well, that feels better. Concise and to the point. It’s exactly what I’ve been aiming at and what I’ve been trying to say all these months. I’ve touched on all those points at different times but never forced myself to think it through and wrap it all up into a simple statement. The best part of having a mission statement or a strategic direction, is that it provides the reference point, the definition of who you are and what your purpose is. Once you have that, it becomes much easier to stay on track. Once you have that, you can measure all your decisions against the mission. Does it fit or does it not? Almost like being in business.
I have heard two people mention public speaking to me recently. They are both very wise sages and I have absolute trust in their words. I have had several people say that I will be writing a book and I am already working on that. I have met many interesting people of resource and have plans to meet many more. I have a website and business cards and a desire for discoveries that I can share. All those things, every one of them, is a direct hit on that mission statement. It’s my new discovery, it’s what I am.
This morning I was at my daughter’s house to watch my beautiful granddaughters for a few hours. I love having time alone with those two even if they can be challenging. I was looking forward to seeing them this morning as it was the first time I have visited there since Christmas when I gave them a puppet theater and some puppets as a gift. I am very proud of that gift because it inspires make-believe and creativity in them and because it’s something we can all play together. After all, who doesn’t like make-believe and creativity.
I am a replacement babysitter for the girls. A substitute. Coleen used to watch them on Friday mornings so Lindsay could go to work. Coleen always liked going there and it was good therapy for her. Those granddaughters, “The Girls” as they are usually referred to, were very special to her and she was a wonderful grandmother. It was a perfect role for her. When she went there, she spent most of her time reading to them or playing games. I’m sure she did a lot of teaching and telling stories. I know that her visits were food related because almost everything Coleen did had a food element to it. She was on and off different diets and would usually take food from home with her wherever she went. When she saw the girls she brought extra so she could share with them. Those girls are always hungry.
Coleen’s maternal grandmother was named Kitty and she was quite a character. Coleen had a very strong bond with her. Kitty liked to gamble and play board games and tell stories to the kids. She was around a lot for the holidays and family parties and sometimes we would just have her over for dinner. Coleen would just decide and ask me to pick her grandmother up on my home from work. I never met her paternal grandmother, Rose, but Coleen would often reminisce about visiting with her as a child and spending quite a bit of time with her. They read, cooked and talked together. Coleen always had a very, very strong sense of family and her grandmothers played important roles in her life.
She carried on that tradition with the girls. Everything she learned from her own relationships was transferred to her new role. Plus much more. Coleen was very loving and affectionate with her granddaughters. She didn’t get that from Kitty or Rose. That was something different she brought to that role. She was a wonderful grandmother and would have gotten better with age. I’m certain of that. I have stated before that the single thing that gets me the most riled and pissed about Coleen’s death is that those girls got robbed of her as a grandmother and will never experience that magic Coleen would have spun on them. And not only does that make me angry, but it makes me very sad. It’s one of the things that causes the most emotion in me. It always has. I was surprised a few days ago when at my Hospice bereavement session with my counselor Lynn, she got me to admit that to her. I started talking about the relationships death stole from Coleen and those innocent girls. I wasn’t surprised that Lynn got me to open up about it. I was surprised that I didn’t cry. Don’t get me wrong, I felt like it and my chin quivered and my eyes watered. Lynn could see the emotion I felt without having to see the tears. She knew what I was feeling and what I was saying.
I know that I am trying to make it up to the girls for Coleen’s absence. I can’t replace her and I can’t be her, but maybe I can keep her fresh in their minds and talk about how much she loved them. It’s part of my role as grandpa to them. And today when I was there, I did some things that may not have reminded them of Grandma, but certainly reminded me of her. Like when Claire crawled into my lap with her blanket and a book and I read to her. I saw Coleen right there with us smiling. And when I peeled an orange for Claire just like Coleen used to do for her when she came over. And when I patiently watched Samantha make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich by herself, I could picture Coleen there instead of me, gently assisting without Samantha even knowing she was being helped.
Coleen was with us for a while this morning. I felt her strongly early on, shortly after I arrived. Probably making sure I was there on time and the girls had plenty to eat and were behaving for us.
I found this on facebook two days ago. It is the quote from Glinda, the good witch, to Dorothy about her red slippers. Glinda said, “You’ve always had the power, my dear. You just had to learn it for yourself.” Is that right? Do we all possess the power lying dormant somewhere inside us? Are we all learning the lessons necessary to unleash it and let good come from it? Do we know when we have the knowledge or is it just automatically released when the time is right? I believe all those questions apply to me and my answers are yes to all of them except the last one. That answer is we don’t get to decide when we have learned enough to recognize our power. It decides for us.