Month: December 2022

Riding the Roller Coaster

Struggle and Choice

A new pattern is emerging in my daily struggle; the conflict between grieving and living life. The grief is pervasive. It colors everything I see, hear, smell, and do. Everything reminds me of Pam and thus, my loss of her and her loss of life. But I am beginning to recognize how my “self” is still alive and kicking separate from the grief. I am still me, with my ego, my hopes and dreams, my faults, and my frailties. Somehow in the mix is the struggle to find my new normal, wrestling with all aspects of my life.

It seems like the winter solstice was a turning point or, at least a marker for noticing another transition. I’ve been told many times, in multiple ways, that the journey through grief is not on a straight path. A winding roller coaster is a more accurate descriptor. So any allusion to turning points and transitions is dubious. Tomorrow might find me headstrong and looking to the future. Or it might find me wallowing in harsh memories and self doubt. Day at a time. Sometimes hour at a time.

What is just part of me, my personality, my way of living, as separate and pre-dating all of the challenges of the past several years? I remember that, at some point in what now seems like the distant past, I decided I knew and understood myself. Fortunately, can live with who I am, comfortable in my own skin. Much of that self-awareness became lost in the fog of Pam’s and my survival struggles. Now, as I begin to emerge on my own, I am reintroducing myself to me. Yep. I still have a healthy (not all good, not all bad, but strong) ego. Those long-nurtured faults are still present, trying to derail my progress. I am more vulnerable than I can remember for many years. And I struggle to hold onto my hopes and dreams, like the guardrails on a roller coaster gondola.

Living alone continues to be one of my most absorbing struggles. Cooking for one, cleaning, laundry, watching TV, going for rides and shopping, morning and evening routines, all are accomplished in a different light. It’s not just the doing them by myself. It’s also doing them without Pam! It’s not just getting used to new ways of doing things. It’s doing familiar things while grieving her loss; her loss of life, and my loss of her, when doing them always reminds me of her.

It’s just part of the evolution from deeply loving relationship to living alone – to being alone. I do look forward to delving into subjects that matter more than what’s happening with this speck of dust, at some point in the future (who knows when). But for now, I struggle with – me. And somehow I know that I am not alone. We are all on a roller coaster ride. We all struggle with the stuff of life.

I found an excerpt from the December 21st meditation in Healing After Loss to be particularly comforting in this transitional struggle:

“But it is possible to climb back out, or to reestablish our footing… And in time, we will find we have some choice about it – whether to skirt that close to emotional crisis or not. It is not always a bad decision to do so. It is good news when we find we have a choice at all.“

Maybe I can get off the roller coaster eventually and move on to another ride, like Tilt-a-Whirl or, better yet, maybe a Merry-Go-Round. šŸ˜‰

Happy New Year. May your 2023 experience be one with few hills and valleys, and gentle curves!

There It Sits…

There it sits…

What was once Pam’s phenomenal stamping and crafting room is now a recording studio waiting for an artist to put it to use. That be me. The concept to transform the space developed over time as I knew that the hundreds of stamps, pens, inks, punches, papers, and accessories could not remain there forever. I walked by it every day and, as I began practicing my music again and resolved to follow through with the dream of performing on the road (now without Pam), it seemed fitting to repurpose the area to assist in that endeavor. So I methodically packed up Pam’s amazing talent/hobby, the tools of her ambassadorship of love, careful to log the contents of each box in hopes that others will carry on her good works.

Meanwhile I have spent little time in the studio. What I thought, as a technically minded person, would be relatively easy to figure out, I find confusing and, so far, beyond my understanding. Recording with a mixer is a language I have yet to master. I can’t seem to get all this equipment to do what I want it to do. Then again, I probably haven’t given it enough concentrated attention.

The winter holidays are now upon us presenting another set of emotional challenges the depths of which I could not comprehend, nor was I prepared. Much of my energy is spent balancing the joy of celebrating time, food, and gifts with family and friends, with profound feelings of sadness and loss for Pam’s absence during the times she loved the most. Consequently, there sits the recording studio. I just don’t have the energy to make it happen right now.

Soon comes a time of hibernation after the travel and celebrations of the holidays. January, February, and probably into March there will be ample time to learn and do. More goals that help me make it through the hours and days of my grieving. Working toward a reinvented life. However, I am not sitting completely idle. I continue to practice my music daily. I even have (those who know me, don’t laugh too hard) a spreadsheet to keep track of which songs I practice each day to help me stay on task for polishing the many songs I want to master before embarking on an actual minstrel’s road trip.

I’m trying to keep the dream alive. Sometimes even that’s an effort which is more difficult than I think it should be. I continue to play for – whoever I can talk into listening. I had “business” cards printed and have begun handing them out, though mostly to acquaintances so far. And I continue to blog. Thank you for your continued interest and feedback for both my music and my posts.

So be on the lookout in the early months of 2023. I still plan to “drop” songs on this website for you to listen, share, and critique (not that I’ll listen to that šŸ˜‰ ). As you might perceive from the cards, I plan to direct potential venues here to sample, and maybe even book some gigs.

Just last weekend a friend reminded me of the importance of following through with my dreams, in part to help me get through this time of grief and emotional pain. But also as part of the healing, knowing that, though Pam isn’t here to share the experience, she would want me to go for it. The recording studio won’t just sit there. It can’t. I will honor Pam and myself by making this happen.

(Seems like I might be writing and publishing this message as much to bolster my resolve, as for any other reason. If so, so be it!)

A Broader Context

Two photographs of Pam I look at every day are cropped close-ups taken from more inclusive vantage points. One has been further tweaked, as you will be able to see. It occurred to me this week that these photographs are a fitting metaphor to one of the ways I must cope with losing Pam and finding myself, in this new reality.

You may be familiar with this picture, as it was posted with Pam’s obituary and was on the front of her memorial bulletin. It adorns the lock screen and is the background for all screens on my phone. It is also the desktop background on my computer and is printed and posted as an 8×10 on my refrigerator. Needless to say, I see it often. Viewing her in the broader context of the entire photograph reveals the reason for her smiling eyes and impish grin. She is eating clams at an outdoor table (with brother and daughter) in sunny southern California!

The trip to visit her brother in 2019 turned out to be Pam’s last long-distance travel. And her daughters got her on the plane on this end and off the plane in CA. After her visit she traveled with her daughter back to the Midwest. Though her PD symptoms were still relatively mild, Pam was already struggling with cognitive issues.

I also love this picture of Pam with her favorite hat, and the knit sweater that was already aging when we started dating 28 years ago. But she loved it so. This photograph was taken in Clear Lake in December of 2020 where we gathered with family for an outdoor Christmas celebration during COVID. Though Pam’s disease had progressed, the gleam in her eyes and her loving smile reveal her happy, loving heart.

A framed copy of this pic sits on a table next to my easy chair where I pick it up every morning before reading from Healing from Loss mentioned in previous posts. I try talking to Pam, end up just telling her how much I love her and miss her, and typically begin to cry. I even printed a copy to put inside the book so I can easily take it (and the book) with me when I travel. And though it reminds me of how she changed, I see her as the beautiful, loving person that she was. And again, I cry.

A broader view exposes the reason for Pam’s delight. She is with her daughters who meant the world to her, and is celebrating with family during her favorite time of year.

I like to think that Pam is looking at me with gleaming eyes when I look at the close-up pictures. As with these photographs, I (indeed we) look at life in the context of what is going on in our own lives. But we must look beyond grief; beyond daily tasks; beyond ourselves. I mustn’t look at everything as tainted by Pam losing her life, or my loss of her. As I’ve said before, I look forward, while contemplating the past, and living for today. I am, we are, just a small part of the universe, trying to have some kind of positive impact on the people we interact with along the way, on our society, and on the world. Now there’s a broader context!

“Pamela Sue I love your smile. My heart is happy when you do. Your eyes are gleaming when you see me. I always know your love is true.”

“If Happy Little Bluebirds Fly…”

I always wanted to fly. Not on a jet, or in a plane, but literally fly. I don’t like flying on commercial airlines. So much is out of my control. I would settle for attaching wings to my arms or something like that. But I think it’s more about the freedom of being on my own and defying gravity.

I used to dream I was flying, maybe 50 feet off the ground. Typically, it was over meadows surrounded by trees. Always Summer, always green. Not over farm fields, but surely could be in rural Iowa, over tall grasses, swaying in the breeze. Often, I would wake up when I realized, in my dream, that I couldn’t really fly, and began plummeting to the ground.

Birds have fascinated me for many years. I had several bird feeders in the back yard where we used to live, strategically located outside my office window so I could watch for the rare breeds. In addition to the “normal” species like Sparrows, Chickadees, Finches, and Cardinals, the feeders attracted several kinds of Woodpeckers, as well as Wrens, Warblers, and Rose-breasted Grosbeaks.

But the really rare birds were the most fun. Most were migratory, with only a few days during Spring and Autumn when there was even a chance they would stop for fuel in our back yard. The Indigo Bunting thrilled me in May of 2004 and again in 2006. It looks like a Blue Bird, but larger and with more intense color. The Scarlet Tanager was probably the rarest, most exciting vision of all. It’s brilliant red body and head are punctuated by jet black wings and tail. OMG!

My go to book for identifying species is Birds of Iowa Field Guide by Stan Tekiela. Every colored tab shown above is a different kind of bird I viewed from the comfort of home! The Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Birds, Western Region, is another excellent reference for bird identification – if, of course, you live in the Western Region. It has in depth descriptions, native regions and migratory patterns that accompany the photography.

Here is a list of many of the birds I viewed in Northern Iowa over a decade in the early 2000’s:

Enjoying free birds continues where I live now. My next door neighbor put out some feeders a few years ago, attracting some of the species I used to see before. They also attract the birds to the bird bath I’ve had in front of the house for many years. I keep it heated in the winter so the “snow birds” can continue to drink and frolic in the water. It works out well. My neighbor gets the mess and I get to watch. I am considering adding safflower and suet feeders at my house to feed the nesting pair of cardinals and attract woodpeckers, of which I have only seen a few.

Pam’s Mother loved Cardinals. She had Cardinal ornaments, jewelry, and photographs. Her children and grandchildren love seeing them in various forms from paper to in the wild. Pam’s brother, Randy, gifted us a Metalbird Cardinal that is spiked to nail into a tree, in honor of their Mother. It is attached to the Birch tree outside the living room window from which I also watch the bird feeders.

One of Pam’s daughters selected a Bluebird urn to keep some of her Mother’s ashes. I liked it so much that I got one for myself. It’s actually called Songbird. It is different in breed from the Cardinal, yet is consistent with lives being associated with, and represented by birds. We think of birds as being free. Probably because they have something many of us wish for – freedom of flight.

“…Why then, oh, why can’t I?”

(Somewhere Over the Rainbow, Wizard of Oz)

A Student of Music

@ Coffee Cat Nov. 22, 2013

For the first time in my life, I am learning about music. While searching for a new Kindle book to read, I stumbled upon Music Theory, From Absolute Beginner to Expert that I have just begun to read, and How to Read Music: For Beginners ā€“ Simple and Effective Guide to Understanding and Reading Music With Ease, that I have yet to open. Both books by Nicolas Carter. This may surprise those of you who know and listen to my music. But as Iā€™ve admitted to anyone who asks, I play everything by ear and, though I had to have learned to read music during Junior High when I played the cornet and French horn, very little stuck with me.

After reading only two chapters from Music Theory, I am already learning; tone and notes, amplitude and volume, frequency and pitch, rhythm and time. The author does a good job of relating subjects to piano, and more importantly for me, the guitar. So not only does he discuss white and black keys, but also strings and frets. Works for me!

As with other subjects, learning seems easier now with lifeā€™s experiences. I was not a good student in school. Between mild ADD and my constant battle with OCD (neither officially diagnosed), I just couldnā€™t stay engaged with reading and applied learning. I now know that I am a visual learner, and I learn by doing (kinesthetic). Thus, music by ear (not to be confused with auditory learning). Recently, though, I am reading both fiction and non-fiction, and find that I understand ā€œsubjectsā€ better just because I have had some experience with them in life.

Now I am excited to see if and how my music improves with new insights. But I need to keep reading to see how the learning applies. Learning to read music will also be helpful. I plan to get another keyboard (gave mine to the grandchildren) sometime next year to assist my composing and add depth of instruments to my recordings. I enjoyed “messing around” with it, but I assume that understanding the keyboard and being able to read and write music will be helpful in those efforts.

I am happy to be immersing myself deeper in this new venture in my life. Iā€™ve been playing around with new riffs during practice. Iā€™m not sure where they will lead, but it feels good to be creative again, especially while polishing my current repertoire. I will also share that it feels good to be looking forward to new experiences. As I stated earlier, I look forward, while evaluating the past and living in the present. Not only a student of music, but also a student of life.

Peace and Love!