Things Weren’t in the Right Place

Before I took this photo, there was a lot of clutter on this desk. Things that I thought were more important than writing.

I removed them.

I moved them to my former writing desk.

Now, I can appreciate each item that belongs.

The Significance of Each

Nature Connections – Daffodils – Today, I went up the hill in my backyard and picked the first daffodils in my landscape. They represent my paternal grandmother’s love of gardening and birds. She picked the daffodil as an affectionate name for me. I think it was one way for her to preserve her happy memories from the Wisconsin farm of her youth in contrast to her Florida reality.

God Connections – The Bible scripture, Romans 5:3-5, reminds me why I write, and the two different translations reminds me of the importance of my personal connection to God in contrast to the interpretations of others.

My small candle serves three purposes; cementing my connection to God, my sister, who gifted it, and how long I turned away from truth by storing it away in a box marked ‘Other Stuff’.

Parental Connections – There are two reminders of my father; the Damascus Steel letter opener he crafted for me and the mug with his nickname, “Swede”, in gold letters.

The antique German coaster reminds me of my mother’s heritage along with the white cedar chest at the foot of my bed, under the comforter.

Colorado Connections – Three items stand out; the mug scene of elk against the backdrop of the San Luis Valley and Sangre de Cristo mountains, the box from Rare Things in Creede, CO, and the items I bought at Rare Things – my rhodochrosite pendant and earrings. When I place the pendant around my neck, my second husband, Pablo, whispers in my ear, “Don’t forget that you saw my face when you first felt the cold, pink stone.” [He reminded me of his likeness, forever etched in the pink stone.]

North Carolina Connections – The gold rimmed mug with colorful pens, reminds me of my best friends, Sam and Nolan, who stand with me, watch over me and lend a helping hand.

Pinecone – The seeds of the Slash Pine remind me of the potential that lies within my words. Pinecone seeds have two main functions; food for animals and the potential of future generations dispersed by the protective conical structure, which releases the seeds when conditions are just right.

Plants – The orchid spray peeking out reminds me of my Florida roots. Next, zygocactus, aka ‘Christmas Cactus’ reminds me of my neighbors who brought the white one as a housewarming gift while the more distant pink zygocactus, a gift to myself reminds me of the importance of self-care.

Antiques – A few pieces made the move with me from Florida. The tall chest houses memories of days gone by with costume jewelry from the 1940s, my parents’ wedding bands, dulled from six decades of use, and a pink brooch in the shape of a starfish worn by my maternal grandmother.

The three-legged table is the first piece I bought. My lifelong friend, Marilyn, taught me about antiques. While visiting her in north Florida, we shopped at her favorite haunts. This piece was stacked on top of slightly larger tables like a grown-up toy display. Together, we carefully moved it down to the shop’s grey concrete floor. Gently pressing the latch just below the smooth top surface, I gazed into an unexpected cubby hole. A faded cloth created soft interior surfaces where my imagination conjures all the treasures previous owners kept there.

As My Gaze Moves Inward

Next, seeing my dog Sugar, always brings me back to why I’m sitting here at my desk.

My past is intertwined with my now.

The heartache of loss, although always present, is balanced by the sweetness of memories, the softness of Sugar’s fur, and the smiles of friends and family.

Thank you, for smiling today, friend.

Looking Back Has Merit – My Sixties

Talking about my birthday is not something I normally do, but this year, it has a purpose I couldn’t ignore.

A New Decade Birthday

Some people celebrate their birthday with a cake. I celebrate with fresh flowers that I buy and arrange. It’s like a double gift to myself. This quilt has many layers of meaning, but most importantly, almost all the material was in my fabric stash. I donated it to Mom’s friend, Lola, who made tied quilts for St. Peter’s Lutheran Church in Monte Vista, Colorado. Lola then pieced it into my favorite design, Log Cabin. Mom bought it for her guest bedroom, but now it is mine.

Looking back over ten years

As I lay awake at the end of the day before my 70th birthday, I naturally played the timeline of my 60s in my mind. It was both scary and hopeful.

Ten years ago, I considered signing up for psychic medium Kim Moore’s ten-month course “Psychic and Personal Development.” The only way I could consider it was to drop the first word, psychic. On the last day, I sent her an email asking to be her student. The nine women met every third Saturday. The classes were mostly at her business on South Wadsworth in Denver, Colorado. But we also gathered for a couple of excursions.

As I grew in understanding an alternative way of looking at life, my husband, Pablo, was sinking deeper and deeper into despair, which resulted in his suicide. Kim and my fellow students came to my home eight days later, and we cleared the energy together.

Perhaps I thought that would solve everything. So, I put it all behind me and sought a replacement relationship. Yes, I really did.

Please avoid my mistakes

My life before I turned 60 was filled with pleasing others and looking for someone to complete my life. At the time of Pablo’s suicide nine years ago, I had no idea how to grieve because I didn’t know who I was. It took almost nine years and the deaths of three more loved ones for me to start to discover answers.

Here are some of the things I’ve learned along the way.

Rule 1 – It’s important to make time to grieve.

What does it mean to make time to grieve? When I finally allowed the emotions of grief to emerge fully, I took time after starting my day to revisit the feelings I had immediately after my losses. Before this, I was afraid to delve deep. It helped when I prayed for the strength to let go of control and the courage to start the process.

Each time, my deep crying was short-lived, perhaps a minute. But the relief and calmness afterward have never left me.

Since I was alone, there was no choice but to go through this alone. You may find that too scary. If you choose to have someone with you, let them know you want them there for moral support but to keep their distance unless you motion them to come to you. Alternatively, you may seek a therapist who specializes in grief or a grief coach.

Follow the path that feels right for you.

Rule 2 – Grief is a normal reaction to loss

Your friends might not know how to comfort you. This is also very common. If you want to be completely alone, that’s okay. If you have someone to run interference, that is ideal; a pastor or best friend comes to mind.

Final Thoughts

Give yourself time to work through all your feelings. But also permit yourself to find joy in beautiful memories, the kiss of a loving pet, or random acts of kindness that come your way. It’s okay to allow unexpected moments of joy to embrace you.

Four Empty Chairs

Do you have four empty chairs at your dining table?

Looking back, I have spent my adult life ensuring there was always someone, usually a husband, at my table. That equates to a lifetime of care-giving, and self-sacrifice.

Moving Forward

To move forward, we have to face our fears, and that includes our grief.

Are you afraid:

  • The grief will be so bad, that you’ll never stop crying
  • If you feel less grief, it means you don’t care anymore
  • Sudden, unexpected showers of tears will rain down
  • The grief will worsen if you let your emotions loose

Let me reassure you that grief is the normal reaction to loss. It can be unsettling, but it isn’t something to fear. However, if you have been diagnosed with clinical depression, you must see a licensed therapist.

Let’s Address the Fears

Crying is a way to release tension, anxiety, and grief. So that means, you will stop and feel better when it’s over. Grief doesn’t follow a prescribed pattern. It’s like a roller coaster of emotions, including extreme sadness and joy. It’s okay to laugh.

When grief starts to lose its grip, it doesn’t mean you don’t care. Rather, it means you are starting to heal. This is cause for celebration. And any judgment from others is not welcome. Nor should it be tolerated.

I’m afraid I’ll start crying in public! Well, that’s exactly what happened to me. I was conducting a Garden Tour at Bok Tower Gardens. It was at the end as I talked about the ironwork on the bridges across the moat. The memory of my father, who was a blacksmith, overpowered me. Thankfully, I was facing away from the tour group. Closing my eyes, I took a couple of slow breaths in and out. Then I finished the tour. Four people stayed behind to hug me and reassure me they understood. And it was also a wake-up call. I knew I needed help to heal my grief. I’m very emotional and still tear up at inopportune moments. But I have never felt bad about it. It’s just how I am.

When you express your grief and pain as deeply as you can, it not only allows healing, but it can even make it possible to switch your emotion from feeling sadness to reliving a joyful moment you shared with your loved one.

In Parting

You might find it helpful to set an empty chair at your table during this holiday season. Perhaps add a place card with their name and a favorite photo. Recalling fun times with your loved one might break the tension. And if someone starts crying, let them finish. Then, give them a reassuring hug.

I’d love to hear one of your cherished memories in the comments.