I have been working on changing over my original website to a new domain with a more appropriate name and style. There was probably an easier way to do it but I didn’t know what it was so I did a lot of copy and paste, learning my new environs on the fly.>p>
I certainly learned a lot of new things while turning something older into a newer, fresher, more effective vehicle. One of my main motivators for this project was sharing and drawing more attention to my mission which this should achieve. The behind the scenes mechanics of website development is challenging and can be very frustrating at times. It is also extremely rewarding to be able to sit back and say, “Damn, Rob! That looks pretty good!” I am working on being able to say that more often.
I learned more than HTML tags and web developer tricks, though. In setting up a new look, I was able to better define my mission. All through much of my journey, I have felt like I have been on the cusp of something. Not quite able to specifically define my role or intent, but certain that I was closing in on it. This project required extensive organizational skills. I really had to think about what I am trying to accomplish with this website. And looking even deeper, with my mission. I am happy with the layout and functionality of this and I believe it now mirrors exactly what I’m trying to say. There was much love between two people. A terrible sickness caused the devastating loss of one. The other has to heal and continue his journey without her. I guess I always knew all that, but it seems more clear to me somehow.
Part of recreating the website was painful as I dealt with photos of Coleen and re-read many of the posts I had written. I should probably take some time and read everything backwards from start to finish. My first post was from Ft. Lauderdale and is dated October 21, 2013. I was sitting on the balcony of a beautiful condo across the street from the Atlantic Ocean, remember? I was becoming one with a brilliant sun rising over the ocean and feeling the inspiration. That’s when I started writing about my feelings and my devastating loss. All the posts I have accumulated since then might read like a short story of a man drifting and wandering about, occasionally finding a railing to balance against before losing a little more traction. Then taking more steps toward healing, learning more, forgetting less. A man determined to survive and grow and find a way to make some kind of difference to somebody.
When I look at those photos of Coleen, I have such mixed emotions. At first, I always smile at them because she’s always smiling in them. It’s almost like I forget she’s gone and I can’t wait to see her again. Phase 2 is the part where I do realize that I’m not going to see again. That she’s gone. It still is so hard for me to believe that. She’s so beautiful and vital and alive in those photos. How can that be over?
So like most other things in my life these days, changing the website came with a range of emotion and discovery. Some good, most of it actually, some not as good. There is a change and a growth and a newness to so many things I have done over the past three months. There is a recurring theme.
Then I get to the part of discovery. That is what everything ultimately comes to. What I discover about myself and what I will gravitate to. When I take all of the lessons I have learned from my writings, from my hurt, from advice and guidance, and most of all, from Coleen. That’s where I feel I am at now. At the intersection of Grief and Discovery. I know enough about pain and loss to turn right on red and take the Discovery highway for a while. Where it’s always a new day with someone new to meet and more things to learn. Less lamenting, more adventure.
I keep meeting interesting people although I’m not always sure what to do with them. Last Sunday at church, I noticed a woman who I had not seen before. She sat two pews in front of me and seemed to have some kind of a purpose. There was something about her way and how she carried herself that reminded me of someone. She seemed very sure of herself but also had an unspoken sense of vulnerability about her. Maybe it was the church where she was unaccustomed to being or maybe it was just me trying to kill time between the readings and the sermon.
Whatever it was, I was intrigued. I vowed to talk to her after the service since she was obviously new there. It is kind of an unwritten rule that regular church-goers are supposed to welcome any newcomers who might attend a service. I was more than willing to assume that responsibility with her.
It was just a little later when I learned who the mystery woman was. Every week my church has an adult education forum after the service and this week, a woman from Hospice was going to speak about the services and products Hospice has to offer. The woman’s name was Mary and oddly enough, she was sitting two pews in front of me. I didn’t have time to introduce myself to her after the service as she was quick to go downstairs and prepare for her presentation. I wasn’t planning to attend but thought, “Why not?” After all, I was only going to Wegman’s for groceries after church and I could do that any time.
So I went downstairs and waited for Mary to begin. My friend Liz from church sat next to me and said,”Well aren’t you a brave one?” as she sat down. I hadn’t really thought of it as being brave but I guess in a way that’s what it was. I was more than familiar with Hospice having experienced their abilities with both my mother and Coleen during the past six months. I was drawn to the forum because I thought it would fit with what is becoming a desire of mine to put myself in positions to meet new people and learn new things. This was a perfect situation for those criteria.
It didn’t take long for me to figure out why Mary was so noticeable. She was very energetic, confident and passionate about her subject matter. She spoke like she owned the concepts and she immediately had everyone’s attention and before long, their participation. Mary presented information about Hospice that I already knew but she also talked about another Hospice feature I was not aware of. Something called Supportive Medical Partners which helps people that have terminal diagnosis but are still far removed from end of life therapies. I was very intrigued by that concept and talked to her about it after the forum. I thought the women from Coleen’s metastatic support group might want to know about this program and talked to Mary about communicating to different groups and audiences. She agreed and asked me for one of my cards so she could get in touch with me and work something out for other presentations.
One of my cards. Naturally, I didn’t have one with me. But I did have some in my car and anxiously ran out to get one. I was so excited that someone asked me for a card, I wasn’t going to let the opportunity to hand one out get away from me. Mary and I exchanged cards and she seemed genuinely enthused to meet me as I was to meet her. Maybe I can help her get more interest in her program. Maybe she can help me get more connected. I feel on the verge of greater connectivity and I want that.
My instincts seem to be getting sharper. I knew there was something about Mary that caught my attention. And I felt strongly about staying late for that forum, too. More whispers? Maybe. I’m listening.
I woke up this morning craving Van Morrison music. I had “Moondance” in my head and I thought that was kind of ironic. First of all, I attached that song to the end of my previous post about the absence of the moon. And even though I attached the file from Grooveshark, I didn’t listen to it then. I didn’t really need to since I have heard it so many times before.
The second reason I thought it was ironic to wake up with that song playing inside me was last night’s moon. I know we’re all probably getting worn out with all these moon metaphors but I have one more to report and then I’ll leave it alone. At least for a while. But I have just one more story to tell for now …
Two nights ago, I had an arrangement with a girl I met through one of those on-line dating websites. Yeah, I know we haven’t really talked about that yet. I’ve been kind of keeping that activity to myself and have shared it with only a few people. I’m not hiding it, just not promoting it either. It’s a whole different topic and I’m not sure yet how I feel about it. Coleen encouraged me to find someone else. Maybe “encouragement” isn’t really the right word. “Ordered” might be more like it. She basically told me to find someone else, that I wouldn’t be any good by myself and that I would need companionship. I don’t have much of an argument against any of that.
By nature, I am a needy person in the sense of needing someone special in my life. I had that for 33 years and miss the relationship almost as much as I miss Coleen. It’s hard for me to go to bed alone or go through weeks without hugging and kissing. I miss the intimacy of having and being someone special. I miss having a conversation on that level and casual references that are unique to a relationship. I haven’t even mentioned the physical part, but I could use a little of that too.
I worry that I might be rushing things by reaching out to the internet for contacts. Maybe I should wait longer before trying my hand with someone new. Maybe, but I don’t think so. No reason in particular other than the timing just feels right to me. God knows I’ve had share of sorrow and tears and I don’t expect that to disappear any time soon. And although living by myself is becoming a little easier, being alone is not my cup of tea. I don’t need to live with someone, I really don’t even want that. But I wouldn’t mind a girlfriend to hang around with sometimes. Just following orders, you know.
So, getting back to two nights ago and that arrangement I had with the on-line girl which was really a date. We were going to a comedy club downtown to see a comedian from New York City. I thought that might be a fun activity for two people becoming acquainted. We could be entertained but still have a lot of time to talk in the car and before the show. Even during the show there is room for snippets of conversation, hopefully between all the laughter. Unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate and the show was postponed until the next night. It had snowed quite a bit during the day and travel was kind of tricky so we rescheduled for the next night.
It was very cold that day with temperatures in the single digits. Weather like that usually comes accompanied with a cloudless and clear sky and lots of stars. I left my house a few minutes early and it was already dark. It had been so long since I had seen the moon, I had almost stopped looking for it. But as closed my backdoor, I looked up at the sky almost by instinct and there it was, back and bright as ever. The moon was “new” just two days earlier and it would be almost two weeks before it was full. So last might’s moon was crescent and as I paused to take it in, I realized what I was seeing. It was a smile, a little tilted perhaps, but there was no mistaking it. The moon was a big, bright smile shining down on me as I left my house to pick up a girl for a date. And it was coming from a sky that had been so dark for so long, including the night before when the show had been cancelled. You see, I wouldn’t have gotten that smile on the original night. I had wait one more day.
That moon was with me all the way to my date’s house and stayed with us as we drove downtown. Regardless of the direction I was headed, the crescent moon smiled down on me right through my windshield. It was there the whole time like it was attached to something hanging over my car. Excuse me if I add this to my “There’s No Such Thing As Coincidences” list. Humor me as I type my belief that Coleen once again had something to tell me and used that moon as her conduit. She knew I’d be looking at it and paying attention. She was smiling at me, encouraging me, telling me it was going to be okay. I just kept smiling back.
The comedy show was great and we laughed very hard. When we weren’t laughing, we were talking. It’s fun to talk to a girl who you might have romantic aspirations for. It’s a different kind of conversation than I have with anyone else. There’s a special energy there. A different part of me is present and it’s a part that I like very much. I think she might, too.
Has anybody seen the moon? I haven’t. Not in at least a week, maybe more. The night sky has been so overcast that no stars can be seen. No moon is evident. There has been a fair amount of snow lately which brings clouds and covers the lights I look for. I have mentioned how Coleen loved to look at the moon and stars and often did so from our bathroom window. She would be disappointed with all things overhead right now, as am I.
I feel a strong bond with her through the moon and frankly, I’m a little pissed that I haven’t seen it for so long. I wanted to see what I was missing so just now I googled “moon cycle” and found an interesting website. It’s called moonconnection.com and among many other things, has charts of how the moon looks for every day of every month from 1930 to 2024. On the chart for this month, there was no moon visible for last night, January 1, 2014. The reason is last night it was a “new moon” which means it is virtually blocked by the sun. No wonder I couldn’t see it. Not only that, but when I went backwards and looked at the moon’s phases for the past week, it was only a sliver of a crescent making it difficult to find on cloudy nights. The coming nights will offer gradually larger crescents until it reaches its full stage on January 15th. That is three nights shy of Coleen’s anniversary which always troubles me so much. The moon won’t be full on that night, but pretty close.
Just for fun, I checked what the moon looked liked on the day Coleen was born, the day I was born, and the day we were married. I thought there might be a common thread somewhere but the moon was in a different phase each of those days. I took the plunge and looked ahead at September 18 of this year which will mark one year since her death. That was a dumb thing for me to do because I shouldn’t be thinking that far ahead. I shouldn’t be thinking ahead at all. I’m much better off with my feet underneath me and by staying synchronized with the present. Otherwise I get swept away to Sadnessville and I have already visited that place enough for now.
I also downloaded an app for my iPhone called Luna Solaria. It shows me what stage the moon is in, it’s lunar position, how far away it is, the date it will be full, what sign it’s in, and what times it rises and sets. I don’t know what I’m going to do with all that information but I’m glad I have it. Coleen would have wanted to know some of that from time to time. You never knew what she would be interested in next. And maybe, just maybe, by keeping closer tabs on the moon’s activity I can keep closer track of her, too.
From the “I have no idea what I am doing” department, here is something to consider. I have stopped wearing my wedding ring. I don’t know if it’s too soon to do that or if it’s too late. I just know that instead of it being on my finger it is now on my dresser. I don’t know if people have noticed that I don’t have it on, but I notice. It feels a little weird, certainly different. For a while, I wore it sometimes and didn’t wear it other times. It didn’t seem like there was any rhythm to it until I realized that I usually didn’t wear it when I was out of the house on my own. Like if I was shopping or at the gym. On those occasions I was ring-less. But if I was with family, I made sure to have it on.
That practice continued right up to Christmas a week ago. I had not been wearing my ring for a week or so before Christmas but it seemed that I should have it on for that. It seemed almost disrespectful by not having it on. So I had in on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day and over the weekend, I think. Maybe not that long. Truth is, I don’t remember when I last took it off. I only know that I don’t have it on now. And I don’t know when I’m going to have it on again.
A month after Coleen’s passing, my son Patrick commented on the fact that I was still wearing my wedding ring. I explained by saying that I hadn’t gotten divorced, so I thought I should still be wearing it. Strangely for him, he didn’t argue my explanation. And I felt I was doing the right thing. Then later on, I began to take it off sometimes. The truth is I guess I didn’t want to be wearing a wedding ring if there was a chance I might be noticed by a woman somewhere. I would undoubtedly be reducing my chances of potential romance by portraying myself as a married man. But the other truth is I was no longer married. If I was filling out a form and had to declare my marital status, I would check the box that said “Widowed” or “Single.” So why the hesitation with the ring?
I had to talk myself into that new marital status and even now, have to remind myself of it. It’s another part of letting go and becoming new. It’s another part of saying goodbye to someone so hard to be without and saying hello to new opportunity and new people. As I think about some of these seemingly unrelated episodes of my life, these little things like wearing a ring, consistent themes and lessons frequently repeat themselves. Months ago during my first Reiki therapy, Rebecca was teaching me about breath control. She instructed me to breath in deeply through my nose and to exhale completely. She told me to exhale so far that I felt like I was “crunching out your breath to make more room for the new breath, the next inhale.” Without me thinking about that concept ahead of time, that metaphor is exactly what I am writing about. I have to crunch out the old to make way for the new. It’s not disrespectful, more like discovery and survival.
In some ways I feel like I have turned a small corner in the past few days. I have survived most of the holiday season without catastrophe and haven’t been crying as much. I am thinking more about future games and a little less about sadness. I am becoming interested once again in one-on-one, boy-to-girl conversation and interactions. I have been hearing whispers of encouragement from different sources to become better than before. To use my loss as impetus for growth and discovery and improvement.
Post Script:
Before I finished this, I took down the few Christmas decorations I had this year. Just as I thought I was becoming some kind of tough guy who was getting over the emotion of losing Coleen, I ran into the little white bell Christmas tree ornament from 1981. The one that says “Our First Christmas Together 1981″ on it. Talk about a wave of emotion, it was more like a storm as I was simply overcome with the sadness that ornament brings me. Somehow, I got it off the tree and packed away. I wonder how I will react when I see it again next year. If it will cripple me like it did when I hung it and when I took it down this year. Or if it will ring by itself like I was tickling it? Where will I be in 12 months? I can’t think that far ahead. I’m just working on today and then the day after that.
This whole healing thing is like waves reaching my shore. They come in various sizes and strengths of emotional intensity and are often unexpected. After they reach the shore, there is a calmness as the water returns to where it started, only to reform later in other waves, other emotions, that sneak up on me. As much as I think I make progress in healing, I remain very fragile. I am a living, breathing contradiction. I have stopped wearing my wedding ring but I continue to wear Coleen’s rings around my neck. I think I’m stronger, then become weak. I think I know what I’m doing and then I wonder. And then I write it down and learn.