Do you ever think about moss? I hadn’t either really until my solo cabin trip a couple weeks ago…and then I fell in love with it. Just think for a second how amazing moss is. It can grow literally anywhere…even on solid rock. It is green, beautiful, soft…nature’s blanket. It can be really slippery if you need to step on it…so it forces you to slow down…focus…breathe deeper…let Nature in. In my mind, moss is peaceful and serene…untouched…it’s often the only remaining green in the fall once the leaves are on the ground from the trees.
Speaking of trees…do you have a favorite tree? Either an individual tree…one that you have good memories of…or a type of tree. For me, it is birch trees. The white of their bark evokes both peace and sadness. The way their bark peels off gives them a complexity that is fascinating. They are a resilient tree when the wind blows…swaying impossibly far in each direction. They seem like warriors to me.
The Birches
Listening to the breeze In the trees Straining to hear the whispers Of the earth
Birches stand tall and proud In their nakedness Unashamed of who they are Without their leaves
Nature prepares herself for Certain death Trusting in the hope of Spring To resurrect her
And the birches whisper Strip away your frivolity Stand proud with us Spring will come again
What is it about mornings? I had forgotten how much I love them. How they have always been MY time. When the kids were young, the early AM’s were about the only time I could focus on myself. I would get up early and head out the door for a morning run…or to the gym…be back before anyone even woke up. I would grumble about it a bit…but secretly I loved that time…before the rest of the world was awake. It felt stolen and magical. Then somewhere along the line…probably when the kids started getting more independent…I just stopped getting up early. Started calculating every last minute I could stay in my bed before I had to get up and go to work.
And then…I started making self-love coffee and writing my pages every morning. Suddenly I have a morning routine in place that I love. Writing my stream-of-consciousness pages primes my brain for more creative writing. I rediscover the magic of the early mornings. That combined with the long, dark evenings…where I struggle to get any routine in place that feels good…and soon I am getting up at 4:30am and more than ready to go to bed at 8:30pm.
And you might ask…why do you need to get up early to have time alone? Or for that matter go to a cabin for 4 days alone? Aren’t you alone all the time anyway? Yes…and no. There is a power and a peace in the alone that I choose. The alone when I am really alone. The times when I choose my alone I am able to bring my focus to myself and what I need…without judgment. Other times I am often alone…but amongst people…and that alone can feel lonely…as I watch other people interact with each other…especially couples. The alone of the evening…or the weekend…feels like a forced alone. I am alone because the person who should be by my side is not…and that alone just hurts. So the mornings are when I take my power back.
The Waterfall
The smell of coffee Rouses me from slumber Pulls me from my bed Like a fish On the end of a line Helpless to the lure
The house is dark and quiet Kids safe in bed Dogs barely raise their heads Coffee in hand First sips working their magic Settle at my desk
Quilt wrapped around me Warding off the chill Pen in hand-red today I open my notebook And let my thoughts spill- Waterfall across the page
Released out of the dam of my brain I am alone Just me and my waterfall- Words scream out Sound absorbed by the rage of the water That keeps my secrets
Clarity appears like a rainbow Above the spray of the falls My mind finds peace and stillness As the house wakes up Starts exhaling warm air And I am ready
Jason has been gone for 2 years, 7 months and 7 days. 950 days I have survived without him. Turns out dying from a broken heart isn’t something that actually happens…although living with one is also impossible…surviving, yes…actually feeling alive…eh.
In just over 2 and a half years of being a widow I have learned a lot…from finances to how to set the clock on the flipping microwave twice a year. Mostly I’ve learned how to survive around the big hole at the center of my universe. How to put on a front that everything is “fine”. I go to work, come home, make sure there’s food in the house, take care of the dogs, pay the bills. All my happiness revolves around my kids. When we are spending time together, my smile and laugh are easier and more real. I count the days until Anna is home from school. Which seems so weird to me since she was always such a Daddy’s Girl. When he was sick and she was at school, he always wanted to know when she would be home…and now I do the same thing.
Relationships are hard. I never had a problem making friends before…and now I struggle to maintain a couple strong ones. I just don’t fit…and it’s exhausting pretending that I do. And so I go quiet…and spend a lot of time alone. Driving in my Bronco wishing it were warmer outside…carrying on whole conversations with my dogs…rearranging the furniture in my house trying to make spaces that feel “good”…buying another plant…trying to escape into a book. And I know I should probably put something on my calendar to look forward to…a trip or vacation…but I have a million excuses not to…PTO, money, kids, dogs…when really I know that a trip without Jason just seems like expensive loneliness in a different location.
Someday
We used to dream about Someday
The things we would do Places we would go Experiences we would enjoy Together Hand-in-hand Side-by-side
Someday Our kids would be grown Out on their own And we would feel so proud Maybe watch grandbabies Play in the yard Someday
Someday We would travel White-capped mountains Salty seas Trees that touch the sky And make us feel small Someday
Someday We would feel the excitement Of a tennis Grand Slam Watch our favorite pros Dominate the court Hear the pop of the ball hit the strings Someday
Someday The hand holding mine would wrinkle But the eyes meeting mind would speak The same timeless story Of ageless love And the promise of more Somedays
Yesterday Our somedays were stolen The color bleached from my tomorrows And I was left alone Without his hand to hold Bereft of hopes and dreams of Someday
Oxalis tetraphylla or Iron Cross Shamrock. One of my favorites right now.
The Wrong Alice
Gave up on sleep again
Pad on barefeet into the kitchen
Dogs barely rouse
They are used to this
By now
The refrigerator hums
In the stillness
As it offers
It’s fresh, cool
Elixir
Desk lamp clicks on
Windows are dark eyes
Forcing me to
Focus
Within
Dogs rearrange themselves
Warm bodies
Find new spots
As they lay
At my feet
Sleep finds them immediately
Emmett snores lustily
His fur tickling my toes
With each
Exhale
Why does sleep elude me?
Like some holy grail
A treasure to be
Sought after
Each night
My brain runs wild and rampant
In the dark, cold night
Like a toddler
Unable to
Settle
A trip to the bathroom
A glass of water
Ceiling fan on
And then off
Again
Anxiety whirls and whirls
Like the fan blades
Winding me up
Like a rubberband
Propeller
Heart pounding inside
Broken rhythm
Painful and loud
Inside my
Chest
My mind unravels
As I throw words
On the page
Insane
Poetry
I feel like the
Wrong Alice
Down the
Rabbit
Hole
Where is the jabberwocky
I need to slay
To rediscover
Myself
And sleep
I really have to figure out this not sleeping thing. I’ve been thinking big “life thoughts” about risks…the pursuit of happiness…dreams…regrets…self-discovery…you know the usual…lol. What do you think? Is it better to regret something that you did? Or to regret not having done something? I hit one of my friends with that question in a text right around 9am Monday morning. Big Monday Musings.
Darkness comes so fast outside my window. The nights so long. I’m trying to stock up on my winter “cozy” things…puzzles, candles, knitting project, music, books, hot drinks, blankets, sweaters, wool socks…but they are all just poor substitutes for Jason to snuggle up to. How I miss just sitting next to him on the couch…cold toes tucked under his thighs or on his lap. I would be knitting or reading. He would be watching a tv show or movie. Not necessarily doing anything together, but just being together…enjoying each other’s company. So many evenings spent like that. Now even when I’m immersed in a book…I’m lonely.
On the good days I can get one of the kids to hang out with me for a little bit. Anna was home this past weekend. We spent a lot of time puzzling and puttering with plants. Seth was busy working and Levi was busy with Homecoming and working. I think they like it when Anna is home because they know she’s taking care of me. She always seems to know when I’m having an exceptionally bad time.
Go First
If you’re lucky
You will go
First
Your Love by your side
As you leave
Earth
And your Love will grieve
Till his last
Day
But he won’t have too long
Till he’s on his
Way
Or you could be me
And he goes
First
And he’s way too young
When he leaves
Earth
And you will grieve for years
Struggle day after
Day
Because without his love
You have lost your
Way
Not sleeping again tonight. Blech. Life feels really, really dark right now. Like I was working on clawing myself out of a hole…and then somehow ended up sliding down further than I have been before…and now I’m clinging to the side of the hole…but I’m so damned tired that my whole body is shaking….and I just want a break…and to not do it anymore
But there isn’t a break from this reality. Wherever I go…whatever I do…my husband is still dead. I am still alone. I am still tired.
So how do I survive this reality? I don’t know
Midnight
Midnight
No sleep
Again
Darkness transformed
My window
Into a mirror
I gaze out into
My yard
And Grief looks back
Her hair a tangled mess
From tossing and turning
On my pillow
Her eyes dark voids
All the sparkle
Stolen
She is forced
Into hiding
During the day
But She is
Getting
Stronger
Taking control of my thoughts
Influencing my actions
When She is in control
She’s violent
And angry
Sometimes
And other times
She is terrified
And weak
She hates how
Sad
We are
She wishes she
Could rest
Inside
Never gone
Just
Peaceful
Levi’s girlfriend was over a few weeks ago…nothing unusual. Out of the blue she asks me “Marie, what do you do at your job?” Her parents are both elementary school principals. Pretty straightforward what they do. “Tennis Coordinator” is pretty nebulous. And I tried to explain “stuff” to her. And then she asked “Well, if you could do anything…what would it be?” And I replied with one word…write.
Well, guess what I haven’t been doing much of recently? Writing. Why??? It’s a complex question and has a simple answer…kinda. The simple answer is “Because I haven’t been taking the time for it”. The more complex answer is “Because my feelings suck. My life sucks. I hate them. I don’t want to write about them”.
Emily Dickinson. Even if you “don’t like poetry” you’ve heard of her…right?? One of my favorite quotes from her “and I am out with lanterns, looking for myself”. Writing is my lantern. So, now, in this time when I feel so effing lost all the time I am realizing that I need to keep writing. Even when it sucks…and it hurts…and I hate how I feel. It’s maybe how life will start feeling….well…like life.
So I shook things up a bit today. Rearranged my room solely so I could move my desk in the corner…where two windows meet. Rededicated that space to writing.
And then I had a pleasant surprise. I have a hard time sleeping…really surprising right? So I sat down at my desk and opened up my tablet and found poems that I had written in the middle of the night that I had forgotten about. Guess I haven’t been “not writing” as much as I thought. If you like reading my poetry I added those poems to my Poetry Page. Read at your own risk…
And then the other reason why I have a hard time writing. So many distractions!! My dogs were exceptionally needy today. Levi’s friend came over…which was great…but I chatted with him for a little bit. I can’t write on my laptop…you might notice it closed on the table next to the desk….too many “other things” on there. I also need to put my phone “elsewhere”. And just write on my Remarkable tablet or my Freewrite. The Remarkable is just like writing with a pencil on paper…except it saves all your work…and can do other fancy things…like translate your handwriting to text…but I think my handwriting is too messy…lol. The Freewrite is basically a portable word-processor. I like it because it has the satisfaction of pushing down the keys. Both work better for me than trying to be creative on my laptop. Although I do always edit on my laptop.
So all of those distractions got me thinking about some time alone soon…a little writing retreat somewhere by myself. Hole up in a cabin with some wine and frozen pizzas.
Anyway…I did manage to write a little bit today…
New Perspective
Rearranged my room today
That used to be ours
Need a new perspective
My desk in the corner
A new view
Outside
And I sit
Mug in my hand
Looking out the window
Through the steam
Rising
Distorting the view
Wool socks on my toes
Cardigan wrapped tight
Poor substitute
For your arms
Around me
Snug
Light a candle
Watch the flame dance
With the air
Releasing
Sweet perfume
Mesmerizing
Cold, black nose
Nudges me out of my reverie
Begging for attention
Scratches under his chin
Or rump
Simple pleasures
I wish my life were
That simple
Like it
Used to be
With
You
Now I’m watching
Darkness fall
And my tea has turned
To wine
And my heart
Still hurts
The new perspective feels the same.
Last time I posted it was the two year anniversary of Jason’s death…now we are coming up on our 23rd Wedding Anniversary…Aug 26th. I still count it. In my heart we’re still married. He’s my husband. I’m his wife. Always will be. Aug 26th is also Levi’s birthday. He turns 16 this year (yikes!). Saturday my happy face will be firmly in place for him, but I’m definitely having harder than usual moments this week.
A friend commented to me on Aug 8th that I have “made a lot of progress” the past two years. I wish the words that people use sometimes wouldn’t stick with me so much, but I think being the “word geek” that I am means that words hold a lot of weight with me. They always have. “Made a lot of progress”…implies that there’s some sort of destination…some end point… I just keep tumbling those words over and over in my head “made a lot of progress”.
Have I changed over the past two years? Absolutely yes. My core being is still devastatingly sad…always. I miss my husband…my life partner…my soul mate…my forever. I miss the life we had built together. The social shenanigans with other couples. The safety and security I always felt in him. The knowing I was absolutely, positively loved by him and could be my most complete self with him.
But I have also learned to live a little more “around” that. I can have fun times with family or friends and be happy in those moments. It sucks complete and total a$$ when I come home and all I want to do is tell Jason about everything…and he isn’t here…and sometimes that crash and burn doesn’t feel completely worth the happy moments…but I’m working on it. I guess one could call that “progress” towards something.
I’m taking an Introduction to Poetry class right now. There are 5 of us in the class and it amazes me every week how much life experience plays into how a person reads and interprets poetry. My lens of sadness and grief give every poem we read a slightly more morose tone. Literally, one poem we read I was like “obviously the guy wants to die” and all my classmates were like “no, he just wants to go to his cabin by the lake”. Huh…really?? I spose.
Our instructor has been giving us different prompts to spur our own poetry writing. This poem was the result of one of those prompts…
Pillowtalk
Drifting away to sleep
Bodies tangled
Familiar mixup of limbs
Comfortable and safe
His voice whispers
In the still night
“I can’t remember if I told you today
But I love you”
And with those last words
He relaxes into sleep
While she lies awake
Squeezing her eyes shut tight
Trying to capture that moment
Like a snapshot in her heart
That she can keep in a box
And look at whenever she wants
When he’s not there
When the beast living in his brain
Devouring him little by little
Finally consumes him
And all that she’s left with is the
Ghost of pillowtalk
I took the top all the way down on my Bronco yesterday and got myself lost for most of the day. And that was everything I needed. I blasted my music…sang along at the top of my lungs… and just did me. Went down to Red Wing. To the top of Memorial Bluff. Got out and sat there for a long time. Reminisced about the first time I was in Red Wing. It was over the winter break when Jason and I were in college. I had yet to meet his parents and I think he convinced them to let me stay for a week or two. Red Wing has changed a lot since then!
Red Wing
On the two year anniversary of your death
I find myself in the city of your birth
Called here
To the top of a bluff
Looking down at the city below
The hustle and bustle
The river in the background
The sickly sweet smell of the granary
Last time I was here was with you
It was Fall
I don’t remember looking out
All I could see was you
All I could ever see was you
Now I search for you everywhere
I wanted to just drive down the river from Red Wing…but Road Construction…so I crossed the river and drove down to Wabasha on the WI side. And then ran into lots of road construction in Downtown Wabasha. Stumbled upon Slipperys by accident…the bar/restaurant where Grumpy Old Men was filmed…and had lunch there. This was the the hardest part of my road trip…getting a table for one…and then sitting there amidst all the other families…couples…friend groups. Ugh. Teary-eyed in the bathroom before I left.
I got home about 3’oclock and realized that next time I take a topless road trip I need to apply sunscreen…ouch! I was feeling much more centered and much more able to be present for our kids. Levi and I decided to make bread pudding…Jason’s favorite dessert. We went to the grocery store together to buy the ingredients and then made it together. The four of us ordered Thai food…and played games together. There was a lot of laughter…and some tears…but having adult kids is so fun. I loved every minute. I will readily admit that I drank too many Old Fashioneds…and am feeling the effects just a bit today…but we all had a good time together and that’s what counts. Jason would have loved it…and nursed me through my hangover this morning…lol
Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to reach out this past week. “Hospice Week” will always be very difficult for me.
Two days until two years. I’m not okay and am starting to panic. I’ve only made it two years alone and it feels like there are way too many empty years to go. 43 years old was way too young for Jason to die…and way too young to become a widow.
I’m trying to figure out who I am…again. Find some joy in life…again. I bought a Ford Bronco 10 days ago. A move some applauded, some judged, some implied I was crazy…mid-life crises…whatever…whatever. Truth of the matter is that I fell in love with driving with the wind in my hair years ago when Jason surprised me by renting a Mustang convertible when we were in California for one of his Nationals tournaments. I don’t think he even got to drive it…I was having too much fun. Convertibles in MN are not the most practical, so my dream quickly became to get a Jeep Wrangler. But then I was talking to a friend and he got me thinking about a Bronco. Levi and did research…test drove one….fell in love. Thought I was a Jeep Girl…nope…Bronco Babe. The fact of the matter is that I don’t have to defend my choice to anyone….but my Bronco helps me feel a little badass…less trampled by life…and makes me excited to get out and about. Those things are worth it to me.
I also decided to stop just thinking about taking a poetry class and actually do it. So last week I starting a 6 week long Introduction to Poetry class through The Loft. It is online every Monday from 6-8pm. I love it so much. It is a beginner class…so more talking about poetic form and structure than writing poetry…but it is exercising parts of my brain that have gone stagnant. It is so amazing to discover what really gifted poets can do with their poetry. How they can convey such emotion with such simple words. It’s very inspiring…and humbling.
I’m trying. I’m learning to be present in happy moments, even when I’m sad at my core. I was in Wausau this past weekend and had a really good time with my besties from high school and getting together with some family for my niece’s baptism. I was there. I truly enjoyed those things. And then I got home and was just DONE.
And now this week. 2 years ago this was “hospice week”. I feel like I am at war with myself. Like my mind wants to keep going back there, but my heart is in too much pain. And I just can’t deal. I tried to escape into a book tonight…and literally the first chapter of the book…the wife is by her husband’s bedside waiting for him to breathe his last breath. No. No. No.
Last night I didn’t sleep much. I think it was 2am and I was still awake…writing poetry
Without
He left me
Broke his vow
Forever
He left me
Still loved me
Couldn’t stay
He left me
Couldn’t fight it
Terminal
He left me
More each day
Unstoppable
He left me
Breath ceased
Heartbreak
He left me
Who am I?
Stranger
He left me
What remains?
Loneliness
Love, Tennis, and Cancer 