Six months since I lost my husband. Six months of learning to do everything on my own. Paying the bills, yard work, pool care, dog duty, cat care, solo events, morning coffee, evening shows, bedtime. Washing windows, furnace upkeep, sump pump, dehumidifier, car maintenance, grocery shopping, sidewalk shoveling, clearing the driveway, church. And now a big holiday.
We have hosted Thanksgiving for most of the last twenty years. We work well together and are able to accommodate many people in our small house because of love and organization. Today is no different. It is still our house. It is organized. It is full of love. But it is missing my love. My partner. My Bou.We are now me.Iam me and you are memory.
That is what loss is really about. It is hyper focus on self and situation. The loss is felt daily in the practical activities that are now left undone by the missing one. The feelings of loss come with the reality of doing things alone, depending on oneself and then allowing others to help. Asking for help and paying for services that used to come free from the one you trusted.
Letting go of what you thought would happen and what used to happen and what could have happened becomes a daily exercise in choices. You can choose anxiety, anger and fear, or you can choose peace, calm and acceptance.
I choose peace, knowing that he is okay, and I am okay. I choose calm, knowing that I am not alone, leaning on family, friends and kind strangers who want to help. I choose acceptance, knowing that I can move forward and embrace new ways of being in the world.
I am letting go and letting it be. I do not need to know what is next to enjoy what is now.
The River Walk has been a repeating theme on my blog. This is because I have been working from home since March 2020 due to the covid 19 pandemic. I have replaced the 45-minute commute to and from work with two walks along the river instead.
The Little Cannon River Falls 12-26-2020
I’m thankful to be working from home. Even so, it’s not easy. I lead a large customer service team with a fast-paced workload and a changing daily volume of work. In order to be successful as a team, I need to be successful as a leader. This takes extra care when working remotely. I have to understand what everyone is doing, how they’re feeling about it and make sure that everything is getting done. The emotional work is harder when you can’t see each other in person, face to face.
I love my job and I’m good at it. I think it’s because I’ve spent a lifetime caring for and about other people. My greatest talent is generating enthusiasm and cultivating pride of accomplishment. I lead from behind, and most people don’t even realize my input. It’s my calling, it’s what I do, I can’t not do this. I love having my team in the spotlight, I love seeing them succeed. And I hate being in the spotlight, though I do want to succeed. It is the fear of judgement that keeps me in the shadows.
I’ve spent my life striving for more; always wanting to do better and be better. I have compared myself to everyone I meet and always find myself wanting. I’m not as smart, not as educated, don’t work for any worthy cause, haven’t suffered enough, haven’t overcome enough, don’t have as much money, not as thin, not as good-looking, don’t have as many friends. These are the thoughts that propel me to work harder, study more, do more, be more. It’s like walking uphill and never reaching the top.
I’ve done many things, but never achieved the expert status I’ve been looking for. There is always someone doing it better. There is always another book, another talk show, another podcast with all the secrets to being best.
The new pace of the pandemic has given me time to slow down and reflect. Looking back, I realize that while striving for something else, I have missed many wonderful things within my reach, like the River Walk.
This path has been just outside my door for 27 years and I’ve never appreciated it. People travel from miles away to walk the trails that pass by the meeting of the Big Cannon and the Little Cannon rivers. There is nature and wildlife for miles within steps from my home. Since March, I have discovered the seasons in ways I haven’t seen since childhood. I have been out walking in sunshine and rain, heat and cold, humidity and dry winds. I have seen birds and fish and dogs with their people out enjoying the world without words, without conversation, without judgement. It’s given me time to think about the people and places I have taken for granted and never really appreciated. I wish I could go back in time and do some things over. I would do them better, that’s for sure.
And now the world is changing. As the airlines and internet have brought us closer, the human condition has pushed us apart. We are mortal and subject to disease, illness and death. For most of us, the reality of this pandemic is the first time we’ve had to face our fragility. In order to keep others safe, we’ve had to give up some freedom. We’re staying home, keeping apart, wearing masks to avoid sharing our breath, and thereby our germs with each other. We’re not used to depending on ourselves for schooling, food, entertainment, and worship. In these most trying times, it is clear that we need each other to survive, even with opposing political views, lifestyles and ideology. The sudden change of routines has left many feeling isolated and vulnerable. Some have fallen to despair and depression.
While I have moments of both, I choose to re-imagine…me. What if I am complete? What if I am enough? What if I stop striving and start living? This thinking has energized me in a way nothing else has. I am giving myself permission to be me. I am going to do the things I want to do in the way I want to do them. I don’t have to consult the experts – I am the expert. If you can do something better than me, good for you. I will cheer you on and applaud your success; that is my calling and it gives me joy.
But for me, I am going to enjoy myself without words, without conversation, without judgement. I am going to be me in the way only I can. I am going to walk the seasons with the river. There will be sunshine and rain, heat and cold, humidity and dry winds. I will take my place in humanity without apology or arrogance. And it will be enough. And I will let it be.
We live in world with many different religions, holidays and traditions. But I am a boomer and I believe in Christmas. Some of my earliest memories are going through the Sears, JC Penney, and Wards Christmas catalogs and circling the toys I wanted Santa to bring. For weeks, my siblings and I perused the catalogs with no thought or reason given to price or quantity, we just circled what we wanted and hoped for the best.
We had a big family dinner on Christmas Eve, alternating between my Grandmother’s house and her sister’s house. It was fun to see the cousins and have a big dinner. But the main attraction for the kids, were the presents under the tree. One of the grown-up men would ‘play Santa’ and pass out the presents that were from grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Everyone got something and there was lots of laughter and fun. When the last present was opened long into the evening, we all headed home to our own houses to wait for Santa to come overnight.
We didn’t have a fireplace, so our stockings hung from the hall doorway. In the early morning, or the night when we woke up, our stocking would be at the foot of our bed. It was filled with candy, an orange, and peanuts in the shell. Our gift from Santa would be there as well. Sometimes we were sure we had heard or seen Santa in the night. It was always a thrill to go from bed to bed to see what our siblings got and to compare our treats. Later, Grandma and Grandpa would come over to see what Santa brought.
There was church too. Sunday school, programs, choir and worship. I appreciate those memories now as an adult. But the kid in me then, and now remembers the thrill of decorating the Christmas tree and the anticipation of ripping the paper and bows off the packages to see what was inside.
It is no surprise then, that I recreated these traditions with my own children. We had most of the same traditions, just new kids and fewer old ones. They were excited but maybe not as much as my generation. Because my generation did not get presents and parties and new clothes and toys for no reason. We got presents for birthdays and Christmas only. New clothes and shoes for back to school, Christmas and Easter only. We had fewer material possessions and spent more time outdoors. New toys and new clothes were a big deal, not just a passing thrill on payday.
Like many boomers, I carry the excitement of Christmas with me today. I go all in the day after Thanksgiving until after New Year’s Day. I have 22 hours of Christmas music in my library, and I’m always adding to it.
I bought my first Christmas Sweater in the late 1980’s. I went to Donaldson’s in St. Paul and bought 3 matching sweater vests; one for me, and one for each of my daughters. We couldn’t afford them, but I needed them. We were adorable that year in our matching vests and long blonde hair with big bangs. That was the beginning of a long run of Christmas sweaters; so common, I don’t even have pictures of them.
I wish I had known they would come back into fashion in the ugly sweater craze. They’re not ugly to me. I love the sweaters with snowmen, Santas, wreaths, bells, reindeer, trees, cookies, stockings and presents. I have spent the last several years collecting some beauties and have always looked forward to wearing them in the office at Christmas along with my very cheerful holiday jewelry and socks.
Now in 2020, I am working from home, by myself, at my desk in the family room. It’s just me and my furry coworkers at the office. But I still need the excitement of the Christmas season. I still need the lights and music and sweaters and jewelry and socks. So I get dressed each morning, ready for the office in my ugly sweater, jingle bell earrings, ornament pin and Santa socks. And I head downstairs to the office.
I stop along the way to have a cup of coffee with my dear one before he heads out to work; he is an essential worker and still goes to work each day. Then I log in to my computer and get started with my day. I hope to be in the actual office next year where I can show off my Christmas outfits. Until then, there is Zoom. Let me know if you’d like to meet for coffee.
Today is election day in America. There are reports that one third of Americans have already submitted their ballots.
We are so polarized that it is hard to imagine an outcome that will benefit anyone. Why are we so divided? I think people are worn out and tired. Many are still recovering from the last recession of 2008. Some are doing well and don’t want to lose hard earned gains. Others have never been well and continue to struggle financially as well as socially. All of us want to feel safe and that means different things to different people.
Donald Trump ushered in a new kind of politics and it is bringing out the meanness in people. I have a hard time reconciling with people I have known throughout my life who are suddenly calling everyone names, behaving with rudeness and selfishness while at the same time glorifying the one man who is least concerned with their well being or mine.
People who claim to be Christian ignore everything about Christian teaching and Christian values while they angrily uphold the rights of the unborn. Yet, they are the same ones who are unwilling to say Black Lives Matter. They merely say all lives matter, thereby reducing the message of racial inequality that people of color are trying to relay.
Some people say it doesn’t matter how our President behaves or what he believes, as long as he is pro-life, reduces taxes and makes the economy great. I don’t believe any of those things are possible without moral and ethical integrity, empathy and love toward all people. I don’t believe it is possible to behave like an undisciplined child and lead a nation to greatness.
No matter the outcome of the Presidential election of 2020, I want more than to ‘Make America Great Again’, I want to make America better than ever before. I know we can do it, but I am not sure how much effort it is going to take. The score was never settled for past racial injustice against natives, involuntary transplants and immigrants looking for a better life.
I hope Americans begin to disregard the political rhetoric that tells us there are only two paths for life in America. I hope Americans remember that we are a diverse nation of strong people who can find a way forward when we work together.
