Category: Musings

General Thought Posts not related to specific topics

Directions

(Written a few weeks ago. Clearly I haven’t managed to move on enough to stop writing about Pam, and my loss of her love and companionship)

Moving along my new life without Pam includes writing posts about other subjects whether they be additions to previous categories such as travels or music, or something totally new. I have a category built in for politics, but I’m thinking I might not want to go there. “Musings” is my catch-all category for, well, almost everything I post.

But which direction should I go? I see travel and music in my future. I am preparing to hibernate over the winter months. That time is reserved for practicing my music in hopes of recording several songs while readying for public performance next year. The plan is to drop new recordings in this site as I complete them. I am also transitioning from daily walks to a rowing machine and other indoor exercises to be prepared to “hit the ground running” (not really running) when the weather warms next Spring.

Nothing big. But those preparations dovetail with travel plans. I still have a desire to drive around, short or long distance, asking local café and bar staff if I can play my music in a corner of their establishments. Something I looked forward to doing with Pam during our retirement years. They may say yes. They may say no. They may say “oh hell no” after listening for a bit. I also hope to combine performing with camping, a direction I have been and want to go again.

I have, however, received encouragement recently that boosts my ego enough to continue in this direction. I realized that I am a one-man garage band. My garage venue is positioned across from a city pond that brings parents and children, people with dogs, runners, walkers, old and young, and fishers to enjoy the area. They hear me and see me. I’ve become such a fixture that many wave to me in passing or ask why I’m not playing at the moment. Once while I was walking around the pond a couple stopped to say they would miss my playing, because I too was walking. Just last night a woman who I didn’t even recognize asked me “No music tonight?” as she was jogging by. I answered that I just finished. She motioned her disappointment. I gave my thanks.

One of my reunion classmates recently surprised me at the main event when he walked in and said “I remember you.” Unfortunately, I didn’t recognize him. But I asked why. He answered that we were in the same home room and that I once brought my guitar and played for the class. Fifty years later he still remembered. What a compliment. I told him his words were great to hear at this juncture of my life, and thanked him.

During a time of personal uncertainty it helps to have plans and goals, directions in which to go. Without them, the days would be endlessly sad. They are sad enough as is. So I look forward, as I review the past and live for today. I am confident that Pam would approve.

Westward from Lolo Pass

On Being Alone

Just one of the components of grieving the loss of a spouse, partner, significant other.

Sometimes I feel very alone. Mostly in the evenings when I no longer have the energy to keep busy with – whatever. Recently I wondered about the difference between being lonesome and being lonely. Based on Webster’s, it seems they are intertwined:

Lonesome:
sad or dejected as a result of lack of companionship or separation from others; causing a feeling of loneliness

Lonely:
being without company; cut off from others; not frequented by human beings; sad from being alone; producing a feeling of bleakness or desolation

Though these adjectives do describe me, I am not without hope, nor am I in despair. In a broader sense, I am not alone. I have loving and supportive family and friends. I wish I was geographically closer, but I am comforted in knowing that they have me in their thoughts and hearts and, if I “need” to, I can call or text them at any time.

A longtime friend of Pam’s and mine, who’s husband died of Parkinson’s about two years ago, sent me a book called Healing After Loss, by Martha W. Hickman. The passage for November 17th (this year it was Thursday) speaks directly to this topic and includes the following:

“Together we realize that ‘no man [or woman] is an Island.’ We know that, while we are still sad, we are not alone, and that love, often forged out of sadness, is life’s greatest gift to us all.”

I am sad that Pam no longer lives. She was beautiful in so many ways. Her life was cut short by an insidious disease. I am certainly lonesome and lonely without her. I would give anything to have Pam with me still. But I think I am beginning to accept being alone for the first time in my life. I want to embrace being alone. I need to experience aloneness, yet still live in the love she had for me, and I for her, and pass it on.

It helps to know that I am not really alone. I interact with people every day, whether they be family, neighbors, or friends, sometimes even with strangers. And though I have no expectations, I leave open the possibility of companionship and love. That I might not always spend all my evenings alone.

Six Months

Today marks another sad milestone. Pam passed away on May 12, 2022 at 1:48am, unofficially, and 2:39am officially. Time has only begun to dress the deep wound of her passing. Those of us who knew Pam and love her, at best contemplate an eventual scar that we view with thankfulness for being touched by her. And sadness and emptiness for losing her. “A gentle woman with no guile. That’s why I love you Pamela Sue.”

I can only attempt to emulate the beautiful person she was. It’s a good aspiration. Love one another!

26 Weeks

Pam exhaled her last breath 26 weeks ago at 1:48am early Thursday morning. 2:39am was her official time of death. Though our lives had been changing over weeks, months, and years due to Pam’s illness, nothing prepared me for her final days and passing. Life goes on – minus an amazing, loving, kind, and gentle soul. We love you and miss you Pam!

PBS or CBS?

Power, Balance, Stability
or
Confidence, Balance, Stability
or
BRS

No, not what you expected based on the title.

Though I want to balance (no pun intended) my posts with topics besides Pam and my grieving process, the fact is that I am still grieving, and I miss Pam intensely, every day! I am making some progress. I have been following through on my traveling. And I have my recording studio setup, though I still have a substantial learning curve on knowing how to use it.

But all of that is off topic. Occasionally, I wear the very beautiful ring I inherited from my Dad, on my right ring finger. I wore it some while Pam was still alive, but more often now that I no longer wear my wedding ring (It, along with Pam’s wedding ring, are on a chain I often wear around my neck). Mom, with a jewelry designer friend of theirs, created the ring and had it crafted. Dad left it to me. I try to keep it safe for special occasions.

Last week I remembered that I purchased a Qalo silicone ring to wear while backpacking, in lieu of my gold wedding ring that I didn’t want to lose, nor cause harm to it or me. I remembered where I’d stored the Qalo and retrieved it.

But a bit of background. Pam and I picked out our wedding rings independently in Clear Lake, and found that we had both picked the same rings!!! Go figure. On our wedding day, receiving the ring from my beautiful bride, I found that she had the ring engraved on the inside with “HITYLTILY”, our little code for “Have I Told You Lately That I Love You” a song written by Van Morrison. We were also familiar with the version released by Rod Stewart. So, when I purchased the Qalo ring, I had it engraved with the same initialism.

Okay. So now I have this ring that I didn’t get properly sized and fits best on my middle finger. So, that’s the finger on which I wear it. While I was taking my daily walk, I wondered what significance wearing a ring on a middle finger might have. One of the reasons I never got my ear pierced was for fear of sending the wrong message based on which ear I would wear it. And we are all familiar with one middle finger interpretation.

I’m finally to the point. Hopefully, the background has been worth your time. I looked up the meaning of wearing a ring on the middle finger and found that it portrays Power, Balance, and Stability. But I immediately thought of the word Confidence and liked it. Though I don’t often feel confident, balanced, or stable these days, I do think these words reflect what I strive for and hope Pam would want for me. So, I plan to wear the ring often, thinking of Pam, and hoping, with confidence, balance, and stability, for the future. It seems such a contradiction to me. Missing Pam so much. Feeling the pain daily. But wanting/needing to build a new life without her – for her.

P.S. The BRS mentioned above stands for Beauty, Responsibility, and Self-analysis. Certainly not vouching for beauty. I hope I am responsible and take responsibility. As for self-analysis, I never had a problem analyzing myself before. I hope I can get back to that level of OCD! I’d be giving myself a break. Hah!

A8

(written on the back of the placemat, August 12th at A8 restaurant in Williamsburg, Iowa)

The seat across from me is empty at a place we used to love to go. General Tso, Egg Drop Soup, Fried Rice, and Crab Rangoon. This lunch combo is truly special. We’d often order two, though one was plenty for both of us, just so we could take home the leftovers. I’m holding my emotions!

My first stop on what is already proving to be a strange day. Heading to my 50th high school reunion. August 12th. The three-month anniversary of Pam’s passing.

Lunching here at A8 is a perfect example of “going through” the grief. I seem to be purposeful about going places and doing things Pam and I so enjoyed together. Not all at once. Each venture has its emotional toll.

Christie, who owns and runs A8 with her husband, recognized me and stopped by my table. We haven’t been in this restaurant in over three years! Asking about Pam, I gave her the news. She recalled that Pam looked tired the last time we were here. Another milestone. And I made it through without melting into my tears.

I completed the A8 ritual by smashing the fortune cookie with my palm, as I have always done. But there is only one. The seat across from me is empty. Oops! So is the fortune cookie (I laughed out loud). No special words of wisdom for me. No winning lottery numbers. So it goes. (Off to my next new life’s experience. Seeing people I have not seen for 50 years.)

“A gentle woman with no guile”

(written August 10, 2022)

People are like precious gems. We come in different colors (Color), have various visible and hidden flaws (Clarity), are shaped by our DNA and our experiences (Cut), and come in different sizes (“Carat” weight). The locale and pressures of where it is formed impact all four “C’s” that describe a jewel’s valuable attributes.

What ultimately is valuable is literally in the eye of the beholder. Though diamonds are considered the ultimate jewel, some prefer the “C’s” of rubies, sapphires, or emeralds. And even diamonds are comparably valued using the same criteria.

Comparing myself – my life – with Pam is a daily occurrence. In every instance I know that she embodied higher “C” values than I. Her birthstone was Ruby, but you can pick your gem. As I stated in the song The Song I Never Wrote for You, “a gentle woman with no guile.” Pam’s Color was brighter, her Clarity less flawed, her Cut, smoother, and the weight of her empathy, so much more impactful.

These are values I wish I could somehow achieve; receive them from her now to carry on. I certainly didn’t obtain them while we were together, though Pam’s goodness did rub off in some ways. Maybe I just assumed she was carrying the talisman for us both. Now I just strive to reflect her total beauty. Her sparkling refracted light. Oh my gosh how I love her and miss her!

Lemonade

(Written Wednesday, August 10, 2022)

“My wife used to do this.” That was the end of my brief conversation with a mother and two young children staffing a lemonade stand on one of my usual walking routes. I broke out sobbing. I waived a thank you and had to walk away, not wanting them to witness my total breakdown. It took me a couple blocks and stopping in the shade to wipe my eyes and nose to compose myself enough to continue. I was, after all, about a mile and a half from home. It was the first time since Pam’s passing that I had seen a lemonade stand in the right place, at the right time, having my wallet with me, and was convenient (as in walking vs. driving). I asked the older girl the cost to which she answered fifty cents. I handed her a $5 bill and told her I didn’t want that much lemonade but she could keep the change. She stuffed the bill in her jar. It’s amazing how such things unleash the floods of emotion. Pam made the children so happy every time we stopped, and even went out of our way, to buy some lemonade.

I woke up almost refreshed this morning. Samsung Health gave my sleep a score of 65 out of 100. Not too bad. Not my best. Not my worst by far. Supposedly I fare well vs. other men in my age bracket whose average is 41/100. I usually beat that by a wide margin.

But it was downhill from there. I didn’t even get the Healing from Loss open before my wailing began. It only took looking at Pam’s pictures on the table next to me, trying to make sense of the fact that she is no longer here, to send me to places deep within me where the hurt resides.

I finally pulled myself together and accomplished my morning routine. Being a beautiful weather day, I decided it would be good to walk off some of my emotional stress. It took a lemonade encounter and over seven miles to bring me back home where my journey continues.

I always smile first when I look at Pam’s pictures. Then the other realization sets in. “This (too) is bullshit!”

“Global Warming”

This post speaks for itself. I am pasting the contents of email messages sent and replied to by my lifelong friend. The linked article is dated August 8, 2022:

(message)

Hi Sam,

I get a daily “This Day in History” email each morning that highlights what happened in the past in several areas of interest. Today’s edition included an article entitled “The term “global warming” appears for the first time.” I remember visiting you during the spring or summer of ’76 when you were a county building inspector. We went to a job site together during which time you showed me an article about global warming and told me it was going to be a big issue in the coming years. Very visionary!

I’d like to publish a post about this on Wut Javia, and wonder if you mind. I can do it without using your name if you prefer. Also, if you visit the site, be sure to sign up to receive email notifications when I post.

(Reply)

Hi Keith, I think it was the summer of 1976 when I was a building inspector for Polk County. You have a good memory! I’m fine with you using my name. The concept of global warming was a highly doubted idea back then. I remember requiring home builders to put insulation in their walls and attics to approve their building permits and I got a lot of pushback from builders because they did not want to spend a few hundred extra dollars for including the insulation. Short sited!

Welcome New Follower

Please welcome my very good, and long-time friend Sam to Wut Javia! Sam represents my 15th (6.7%) follower.

I receive many invitations from Google, Blue Host (site host), and Word Press to subscribe to premium services in hopes of growing my follower base and business site. I often chuckle at how they have no idea why I created Wut Javia in the first place, and how happy I am to have 15 followers!

So I am pleased to see my minimal follower list growing. It gives me incentive to keep sharing my thoughts, musings, etc. I also invite all of my followers to share the Wut Javia link if you enjoy what you read here. Maybe I can eventually double my readership – all the way up to 30!

Sam, thanks for coming aboard. Stay tuned for new and hopefully exciting/interesting posts in the near future. Bruce, yes, I know what the first letters spell. Hope you all have a great weekend.