On Grief

This has been such a terribly sad week.  Of course, the bombing at the Boston Marathon has been foremost in people’s minds.  It is just incomprehensible to me how anybody could have such hate in them that they feel compelled to injure and kill complete strangers.  We live in a scary, scary world.

A little closer to home, Pat Summerall passed away today.  He was such an incredible man.  He was kind, classy, and had a tremendous broadcasting talent.  He was also a wonderful example of someone who embraced their second chance and made the most of it.   My hubby was blessed to get to know Mr. Summerall on a personal basis. He was one of his favorite people and we both join the families, friends, and fans of Mr. Summerall who are mourning his passing.

This week also held a tragedy at my job.  A co-worker was killed in a freak accident.  She was only 26. I never got a chance to know her, but everyone who did says that she was one of the best people they had ever known.  Most of the people that she worked closely with were close to her in age.  For a lot of them this will probably be the first time they have ever lost someone close to them, let alone a peer.  I am so proud of the way my company has handled this. They have made counselors available to anyone who needs them, have made sure that everyone has the funeral information, and are even creating a memory book to send to her family.  I was just really blown away by the support that they are giving to those who are suffering from this loss.

I have had some tragic losses in my life and consider myself pretty well versed in the mourning process.  If I could give those experiencing a loss one piece of advice it is that everyone grieves in their own way.  Some people need to continue their life like nothing has happened, some people need to lock themselves away and lose themselves in tears for a while, some people feel the need to constantly be active and fill their life with as many distractions as possible.  Nobody can tell you that you are grieving wrong, just as you cannot judge how anyone else grieves.  My one caveat to that is that if your grieving process has you turning to drugs or alcohol, if you have suicidal thoughts, or if your grief begins to turn into depression you should seek out help in dealing with it.  There is no shame in talking to someone.  A burden shared is a burden lessened.

For everyone who has lost family, friends, or co-workers this week, be kind to yourself. The pain does lessen. Your loved one will always be remembered and will always be a part of you. Take the time to mourn the loss and mark their passing in whatever way feels right to you.

Blessings to you all.

I’m a Bad, Bad Blogger

Back when I started this blog I had grand ambitions of it being a place where I could foster my creativity and grow my writing skills.  I swore I would write insightful, funny posts and do my very best to be a devoted and authentic blogger.  I didn’t do too bad the first month or so.  I wasn’t blogging as much as I wanted to, but I was at least getting some stuff out there.  Then, life happened.

The month of January was an incredibly stressful time.  Some of it good, some of it bad, but all of it very intense and anxiety provoking.  I’ve already written about losing my sweet puppy dog.  I thought I was prepared for it, but it was much harder than I anticipated.  Then, I came down with the flu. Also during that month I found out that I was being moved to a new team at work and I had to move to a new office space twice within three weeks.  Hubby accepted a new position that would entail him being out of town for a solid month.  Oh, and we also had to have our roof replaced.

By the time hubby left for his month long business trip I was feeling completely frazzled.  I really planned on using my time alone to get the chaos under control.  I had a plan and it seemed fool-proof.  Unfortunately, by that time I had nothing left.  No gas in my tank. I was physically and mentally exhausted.  So, I gave myself a break.  Oh, I still went to work and kept the house livable.  But I watched a lot of television and ate a lot of fast food.  I kept thinking that I should blog, but I just didn’t have the gumption to do it.

When hubby finally got back we took a vacation to Florida.  It was great spending some time away and great having him home.  I kept thinking life would calm down, but it just kept getting more and more hectic.  Between his crazy schedule and my job it seemed like every week was just a race to survive until the weekend.  I kept thinking that I should blog, but who could find the time?

I finally started thinking that maybe I should just stop even trying to blog.  I should just take down the few posts I had written and call this a failed experiment.  After all, my life is totally chaotic and out of control right now.  Could I really justify taking time to just sit at my computer and write?  Just when I was about to kill the blog, I got to thinking that maybe this would actually be the best time to write.  I wanted a creative outlet, maybe giving myself one would allow me to start taking back control of my life. Maybe enforcing some disciple around my postings would help me to start taming the chaos. 

So, I am back.  I’m glad that I never really decided on a theme or a direction for this blog.  Because it looks like for now it is going to be about bringing you along on the journey as I try to get to get my house and my life organized again.  Wish me luck!

Farewell My Buddy

This past Saturday I had to say good-bye to my beloved border collie, Buddy. 

I adopted Buddy 12 years ago when he was just a little ball of fluff.  I picked him up and he put his paws around my neck, laid his head on my shoulder and immediately fell asleep.  I immediately fell in love.

For 12 years he has been my baby, my companion, my cat herder, and my joy.  About 2 years ago this Frisbee loving dog was diagnosed with arthritis.  He had hip dysplasia and as he aged his hip started to degenerate.  He had good days and bad days.  At first there were more good days than bad, but the scales started to tip the other way several months ago.  The poor guy had been on all sorts of pain relievers and steroids, but in the end there was nothing further that could be done.  He had reached the point where there were no more good days.  So with a heavy heart we talked to his vet.  He agreed with us that the time had come to let go.  So, on Saturday morning I said good-bye.  I know it was the right thing to do, but sometimes doing the right and responsible thing just sucks.

My sweet Buddy, I know that where you are now there is no more pain.  You can chase Frisbees all day long and have salmon for dinner every night.  Someday I will be there and I know that you will be waiting for me.  Mommy loves you, my sweet pup.

 

Women Who Inspire - Jenny Lawson

One of my very favorite bloggers is Jenny Lawson aka The Bloggess (http://thebloggess.com). She is wickedly funny and is completely off-beat and original.  She is also completely open about her struggles with depression and anxiety.  When she isn’t making me laugh she is bringing me to tears.  One minute she is bawdy and outrageous, and the next she is completely vulnerable and laying her soul bare.

Today she re-tweeted a link from one of her followers.  The link was to a letter penned by the British actor Stephen Fry to a young woman with depression.  His words were so genuine and comforting.  It was one of the most moving things I have ever read.  If you suffer from depression, please read it.  If someone you love suffers, it will give you some of the best words of comfort you will ever be able to share.  The link is http://www.lettersofnote.com/2009/10/it-will-be-sunny-one-day.html.

If you have never checked out The Bloggess, I encourage you to get yourself to her site right away.  Some days her words will move you.  Some days she will make you shriek with laughter.  But she will never, ever bore you.

Not The Way I Planned Christmas

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone! 

I don’t know about you, but every year I have this dream in my head of what Christmas should look like.  It should have all of my favorite traditions from when I was little (but without all of the hard work that I know my Mom put in behind the scenes), plus all sorts of Martha Stewart-esque touches.  I expect a roaring fire and stockings hanging by the mantle.  Hubby and I would be cuddled up under blankets all toasty warm and watch the snow drift gently down.  The presents that I selected would not only be beautifully wrapped, they would each be exactly what the recipient had always dreamed of having.  Carols would be sung, cocoa would be made, and Santa would like my cookies.  It would all be perfect.

So, what did Christmas really look like?  Well, I didn’t plan far enough in advance, so I didn’t decorate the house at all.  The chimney needs to be swept really bad, so a fire in there would probably burn the house down.  We celebrated with my hubby’s side of the family early, so that part of Christmas was done by mid-month.  The “perfectly wrapped presents” turned into “presents stuffed into gift bags”.  My hubby had a vicious cold, so he was completely miserable the entire week of Christmas.  We cuddled up under seperate blankets on opposite sides of the sofa.  I did not want to be anyway near the germs he was spewing!   The only thing that went according to plan is that we had snow.  For a lot of people that wouldn’t be a big deal, but here in Texas it is pretty much a miracle to have a White Christmas.

So, was this the worst Christmas ever?  No, not by a long shot!  It may not have been perfect, but I spent the day with the person I love most in the world.  We both have good jobs, a roof over our heads, and plenty to eat.  My friends and family are all healthy.  My very old furry kids are all still going strong.  Life is pretty darn good.  Christmas might not have been perfect, but there is always next year!

For everyone in the blogosphere, I hope that 2013 will be your most prosperous, adventurous, best year ever!

How a Mayan Pyramid Changed My Life

So, we survived 12/21/12 and the world continues.  With the whole world talking about the Mayans yesterday it struck me that the perfect way to start this blog would be to tell you the story about how a Mayan pyramid changed my life.

The story starts way back in my childhood.  The minute that I first learned about the Mayans, I was completely and utterly fascinated.  The very first thing that I ever put on my bucket list (before I even knew what a bucket list was) is that I wanted to stand on top of a Mayan pyramid. This fascination continued into my adulthood.  Whenever local museums have had exhibits or guest lecturers talking about Mayans I have been the first in line to attend.    Yes, I was rather obsessed.

About a year and a half ago I was going thru a rough time.  A job that I once loved was no longer satisfying.  I was considering re-focusing my career in another direction.  My whole life just felt stagnant, like I didn’t have anything to look forward to anymore.  My sweet hubby was trying to think of something to help me and knew that an adventure was exactly what I needed.  So, he proposed that we take a vacation to the Yucatan peninsula so that I could finally see the homeland of the Maya and experience the ruins in person.  Then he took it one step further and found a site that still allows you to climb the pyramids.  This was it!  I was actually going to get my opportunity to fulfill my lifelong dream.

Then, reality set in.  I was fat, out of shape, and in my late forties.  I was in no condition to try climbing a pyramid.  Did I mention that I’m also afraid of heights?  But, I decided that I would still try.  Even if I got up a few steps I could still feel the stones and say that I had been on a pyramid, even if it wasn’t the top.

When the day of the climb arrived I was beyond excited and scared stiff.  I stood at the bottom of the pyramid and stared up in awe.  It was huge!  This was Nohuch Mul, the tallest pyramid on the Yucatan peninsula and second tallest in the entire Mayan world.  I took the first step.  That wasn’t so bad.  I made a few more steps.  It was steep and the steps were very crumbly.  I climbed and climbed until I finally decided I had to take a break.  I turned around and sat down on the steps.  I was only about a quarter of the way up, but the view was already breathtaking.  We had arrived early, so hubby and I were the only ones on the pyramid.  We had such a perfect moment, sitting on this pyramid all alone.  It was calm and serene, but I wanted to try to get a little higher. 

This is when things started to get more difficult.  It seemed like every step got a little taller and a little steeper.  By the time we were about halfway up I was really struggling.  A tour bus had arrived and there were all these young and in-shape people that were just cruising up the steps like it was the escalator at the mall.  By this time I had been reduced to crawling up the pyramid.  I could only go a couple of steps at a time without having to stop and rest.  Every sensible brain cell I had was screaming at me to stop.  But there was this other voice in my head.  That voice was telling me that this was a life-changing event and that I owed it to myself to give it my all.  Of course, the best voice of all was my sweet hubby telling me that he believed in me, that he knew I could do this, that he wouldn’t let me fall. 

Then came that awful moment.  The moment when I didn’t think I could do it anymore.  The moment that I gave up.  The moment that my hubby said he would finish the climb for me and take some pictures from the top so I could see it.  I said there for a few minutes with sweat pouring down my face, huffing & puffing and trembling with exhaustion.  I looked out over that incredible vista telling myself that I should be very proud that I made it this far.  Then I looked over my shoulder to see the top and realized that it was only about a half dozen steps away.  I had nothing left, there was no way I could do even that much.  Then, from somewhere deep inside me I found this fierce determination that I would not give up.  I climbed one more step. Then another step.  It took awhile, but I was able to make the six most physically draining steps of my entire life.  I stepped onto the top of Nohuch Mul and immediately burst into tears.  I had done it!  I had fulfilled a childhood dream, overcome my biggest physical challenge ever, and defeated the voices in my head that said I was too old & too fat.  I looked out over this vista that seemed to go on forever and felt the whole world open up before me.  

Since that day I have looked at the world in a whole new way.  I left the job that I no longer loved.  I studied and became certified in my new career direction.  I realized that I had a whole lot left to look forward to in life.  Now, whenever I am facing something that scares me or seems too hard, I just say to myself “I climbed the pyramid”.