EMDR

      I don't have much to say today.   June was a difficult month.  July luckily has been a little bit better, but August is peeking it's head around the corner and frankly I'm terrified of the months ahead.   

     This week I met with my therapist again and did my first session of EMDR.   It's a type of therapy that helps your brain process trauma.   I honestly don't really know a lot about it.   I first heard about it six years ago just after we had spent our first visit in the ICU.  A woman in our church, who happens to be a therapist, was substitute teaching with me the cute little three and four year old kids.   I told her a bit of our experience she suggested that EMDR therapy would be helpful.  We tried to get in to see her, but then life got even more difficult.   

     I found this quote a while back that I think describes  my situation pretty well.   We went through some intense stuff and grief especially of a sudden loss is also very traumatic.   

      Trying to protect me, my body has surrounded me in some pretty serious armor.   

     It's why seeing pictures of him and our time in the hospital can  instantly bring me to tears.   One day I hope to be able to see pictures of him and not cry.   

      But it's going to take time and a lot of patience and hard work.   Ugg...  

       

       

Heaven is...

      My silly brain.   It struggles sometimes do the simplest of tasks, yet wants and often prefers to try and answer life most difficult and unanswerable questions.   Ugg.... I can't get it to answer "what to eat for dinner", but instead it wants to try and answer ...."what is the meaning of life?"  Over the past several months I've asked several people the question "What does heaven look like?" and it's been interesting to hear everyone's response.   They have been quite varied, but here are a few of them.  

Overwhelmingly Beautiful

Very White

Green Grassy Hills with Picnics

Gatherings of Friends and Family

      For some reason for me, the movie that comes to mind is one called Defending Your Life, which I haven't watched in ages.  I don't think it's accurate where everyone is there to be on trial, but essentially I picture a large city where everybody has a place to be and things to do.   Where there are friends and family to be with, things to enjoy, but also things to be done.   People will go about their tasks, which often are varied.   Perhaps going to places of learning or beautiful concerts, but also involved in the details of what is happening here on earth.   Perhaps there is a place for all departures and arrivals.  Perhaps there is a big office building where people go to help with answering prayers.  All while surrounded by beautiful plants and flowers.   However it's not all some giant city like the planet Coruscant in Star Wars (had to google that, my Star Wars loving husband could have answered my inquiry in his sleep).   But also has beautiful places where one can go to be in nature.   

     Not just wanting to answer what it looks like I've also pondered a lot of other questions.   Like... 

• What do they do all day?
• Is there day and night?
• Can they sleep?   Do they?
• What does time feel like?
• Can they talk?  Or do they just by reading minds?   
• Are famous people who were famous on earth still famous or just normal?
• Does everyone look the same age?
• Are all angels skinny?   (We do talk about spiritual giants...)
• Do they celebrate birthdays, deathdays, holidays?
• Are there seasons?

      One of our good friends recently said "there better be golf".   Hmmm... I never thought of that.  Another friend said "I know our boys are up in Heaven having game night like all the time".   I had not thought of that either, but video games were a huge part of our life together.   Because of video gaming, my husband had friends from around the world.  

     The thing is that "heaven on earth" is different to everyone here, so it likely is there.   Each of us is unique in what that definition might be.   I think the one unifying thing is the loved ones and friends.  I'm still no closer to definitive answers, likely never will be.   But I do know one thing.  Being with my husband was heaven on earth, so if there is a heaven.... it is where my husband is.  

Mid Life

     When I was younger I remembered when my parent's and other family members celebrated "Over the Hill" birthdays.   Like any child I thought they were "so old."   Being forty seemed an eternity away, but well... here I am, already a few years in.   People always joke about a mid life crisis as buying an expensive car or somehow trying to re-capture their youth.   But then there is the deeper psychological side of inner turmoil about your identity, life choices, and mortality.   Mortality.   That's a hard one.   I remember the year my Dad turned 40 was a tough year for him.   His dad died passed away early in that year, but he also had several friends or co-workers pass away throughout the year.  I was too young at the time to really understand the difficulty that all of that meant.   

      Talking about getting older with my friend when she visited for my birthday I shared with her a statistic I had come across.   The most miserable age: 47.2 years old.  She lightheartedly said that "Oh, you peaked early".  I remember thinking that I seriously hoped that this was my rock bottom as well as "oh goodie, here I am bringing down averages again."  

    Speaking of averages, here are a few more:

• The average age that a woman becomes a widow is 59.
• One-third of women become widows before they're 60, and half before they are 65.

    Dreading living a long time without my sweetheart I was curious how many years on average I might live.   It varies depending on where you live but here in the US it is: 

• Male: 73.5 years   
• Female: 79.3 years

     My sweetheart passed away at the age of 48, so his mid life was 24.   We met when he was 25, so I guess you could say that meeting me was his mid life event.   I don't think he would call a crisis, although falling in love with me and waiting for me to come around was likely a challenge.   He would say it was a blessing and the best thing to ever happen to him.   I'm so grateful that he was patient in waiting until I was ready.   

     For my 40th birthday, we were firmly entrenched in a battle with cancer and trying to navigate a pandemic.   I spent it sitting in our vehicle outside the infusion center, wishing desperately that I could be inside with him for chemo.   Memorable for sure, and something I would do again in a heartbeat, because it would mean that he was still alive.   Cancer was so difficult and exhausting, but navigating grief... without him... most days feel impossible.   

     Hanging just inside that infusion room was a code chart for emergencies in the hospital.   He would often joke that he was a code yellow which at our hospital was  "A Disaster".   I would always tell him it wasn't true.   But if you apply this quite from Tom Hanks he was right... losing him was more than a mid-life crisis, a mid life disaster seems more fitting.   I'm grateful haven't lost everything,  but I lost the person who mattered the most and that changed everything.   

     I'd much rather that my mid life crisis was a fancy car.   But not so.  Instead instead I got a pile full of complicated emotions, endless worries about the future and an enormous task of figuring out and defining who I am.   Oh goody!  Growing older is lame.

Baggage

     Many years ago we wanted a weekend getaway and stayed somewhere at a local hotel.   We happened to catch a TV show called Baggage which we talked about it on occasion ever since.  It was kind of a cross between Deal or No Deal and well, most dating games.   It was hosted by Jerry Springer and apparently ran for 3 seasons.   Three potential dates would arrive, each with three different suitcases.   Each round they would open one and inside reveal their "baggage".   Each round someone would be eliminated and then in the next round a larger bag would be opened showing even more shocking insights.   After the third round the potential dater selected the person they would want to go on a date with.   However before that would happen, they had to open a case of their own.   They then must decide if they want to go on a date together.   

     Here's a few of the things that were in people's bags... (the cleaner ones)

• I poisoned my boyfriend
• I eat whole sticks of butter
• I cry every day
• I've never been wrong
• I have 15 living cats and 30 dead ones in my home
• I steal flowers from gravesites
• I've been engaged 10 times
• I am a cult leader
• I have a fascination with roadkill
• I practice witchcraft

    The more I think about it, it's pretty much like dating as an middle age or older adult, just more up front and blunt about it.   Because by the time you've reached middle age, you very likely have developed some weird habits, stories or quirks.   Or in my case, been through some seriously difficult things and struggle just to make it through each day.   The phrase "I am Newly Widowed" carries with it a lot of other implied baggage, likely way to numerous to count and often really random.   Such as "I regularly ask people about their funeral plans" or "I cry whenever I get in my car" or "I struggle making simple decisions" or "I'm working on writing my own obituary" or "I hide special boxes of cereal in my closet" or "I don't like quiet" or ... well... too many to count.   

    Recently at work they have been doing some shuffling.   A LOT of shuffling.   In the past 3 years I've had about seven different managers.   Which has been challenging, especially with everything going on with my personal life.   Difficult to know who to ask what questions and just who is responsible for what.  However with the most recent change, I've been grateful to join a team of people who are working on the same things as me.  People who I am hoping to learn from as well as also helpfully share some of my knowledge.   Recently, my new boss set up a meeting to allow us to get to know each other.   We started the meeting by introducing ourselves.    I kept it to just my work experience and enjoyed getting to know each other a bit better.   Then near the end of the meeting one of my new co-workers asked "What do you do for fun?"   My brain inwardly cursed and then went blank, until I finally replied, struggling unsuccessfully not to cry...  "Well, I'm a fairly recent widow and honestly am trying to figure that out.   The things that I used to do for fun aren't fun anymore and I haven't figured out what is."   I'm sure that's not the answer she was expecting.   I tried to lighten the mood by saying I like to sleep, or try to sleep for fun as well, to which everyone agreed that they also liked to sleep.    It sure did end the meeting on a bit of a somber note, but at least it's out in the open and they can choose to talk about it or not.     

    So while it's not displayed in fancy cases like in the game show, I've thought a lot about my baggage.   I carry it around with me everywhere I go, and struggle with what to do with it.   But I've hired a professional "baggage handler" who is helping me unpack, evaluate and process my things.   Hopefully compressing them in the process.  It's not a simple process, but I'm working through it.   I don't know for how long one is considered a "new" widow.   It likely isn't a defined passage of time, but instead when you finally reach a better place mentally.   It will take time, but I'll get there.   

Sedatephobia

     All this week I've been struggling and debating.  I had been invited to spend time with family up at my Grandpa's cabin.   It's a beautiful place and I have many happy memories there, but like many other things that wouldn't normal be hard, it was hard to decide to go.   I knew it would be difficult to be away from the comfort and safety familiar of home; even though I would be around people who loved me.   I had worked myself up to deciding that I would be up to staying for one night.  So when the aunt who was going to be my ride said she was going for two nights, I almost chickened out.   But I put on "my big girl panties" and said I would go.   I knew that if after one I really wasn't up for it, I could plead with her to take me back home.  But luckily it wasn't needed.   I was able to spend two nights.   

     Not sure how I would fill the time, since I wouldn't have internet or TV, I packed a bag filled with "what-ifs".  What if I feel like working on a diamond painting, what if I feel like reading a book, what if I feel like... I tried to prepare as best I could.  I didn't end up needing them and instead helped with other projects and also was invited to come along for a evening of kayaking that ended at sunset. 

     My biggest struggle was not something new, but something I was aware of.   Many years ago I encouraged my sweet husband to take a trip to visit family.   It was the first time in over a decade of marriage that I had ever been home alone.  We had previously only spent a handful of evenings apart and all of them was when I had been away on quick business trips.   I quickly learned that I was not a fan of being home alone, and especially not a fan of silence.   While he was gone, I always had the TV or music of some kind on.  Neither one of us tolerated being apart and he convinced his friend to come home earlier than planned.   While I don't know if I'd go as far as to call it a phobia, the fear of silence is called "sedatephobia".   It's something that has been a extra challenging since he passed away.  Day and night, I try to have something playing to fill the silence.   At the cabin, there was occasional quiet, but there wasn't a lot of silence during the day.   However nights were more challenging.   I had tried to be prepared, and I had a few things that helped, but I think next time I would do or bring more to help me sleep.   

    But, end result... I did a thing that most would consider easy, but was hard for me.  I did find myself smiling and laughing on occasion, which is another random thing that shouldn't be hard, but is.  However, I'm tired and looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight.