Looking for signs of life…

(Or Movie Mash-up: “Get busy living, or get busy dying, Dude.”)

Shawshank Redemption. Good movie. No, GREAT movie. It was on last week and I watched it for the hundredth time. I was reminded of the quote, “get busy living, or get busy dying.” I also watched the Big Lebowski…the Dude. I had forgotten most of it, and it had me busting out laughing. Every morning now, I hear the soundtrack in my head, asking to “see what condition my condition is in”….

I was in a very dark place recently. And while in this “condition”, many things happened. Mostly, I was mourning the loss of my husband, remembering the months we spent in the hospital, worrying that I will forget his wonderful qualities, wondering if I will ever come out of my grief. Have I made a single step forward? I often feel stagnant, boxed in by a very narrow vision of my self.

When I started this blog, I didn’t know what I was doing, or why. Stuff was just pouring out of me. It had to come out. But not without some trepidation, about sharing publicly. Worried that no one would read it, worried that anyone would read it. When I got my first follower, I had a panic attack. Then, as others started following, I got even more confused. Why are they even reading this dark shit? I haven’t posted anything funny for weeks! And why do I even feel the need to be funny? This is a blog about loss. Again…what am I doing? Why? Continue reading

Morning Routine

EarlyMorningThis story might be a little intimate. It’s about my morning routine. I know, seems innocent enough, but when you think about it, we are all very unique in how we wake up to the day. It feels pretty personal to admit that while I am generally an optimistic person, I am not, and never have been, a “morning person”. It takes me a while to get going – and I can’t blame this one on grief.  In fact, not everyone in my history has had the patience for my early morning persona; she’s kind of high-maintenance, and needs gentle coaxing. But those who have understood this, and have loved me despite my grouchy early morning demeanor, are gems. When I was young, my dad was always really sweet to me in the mornings. My husband too, bringing me my coffee. My dog? Not so much. She doesn’t really apply that “fine touch” when it comes to waking me up.

Continue reading

She Ded

When my friend first suggested I watch the show “Go On”, about a newly widowed man (played by Matthew Perry) and the support group he joins, I was resistant. I saw the pilot and didn’t think it was funny. Plus, “widowhood” and support groups are what I am Living and Breathing right now, so I was worried the show would hit a little too close to home. Is it even “kosher” to watch a show about death, when a loved one has just died?

*Case in point: I used to watch that cleverly written show about cancer, “The C Word”, until we found out my husband actually had cancer, then I wanted to throw a rock at the tv faster than you can say “pheocromocytoma” (the type of cancerous tumor my husband died from).

But one night as I was scanning hundreds of channels in search of something escapist and numbing like “Gnomeo and Juliet”, I stumbled across “Go On” and decided to give it another try. Continue reading

Um, it’s pretty dark in here…

Illustration courtesy of the New Yorker.

WTF? Why can’t I see anything? How did I get here? Ok, ok. Stay calm. Yes, it is dark. But I am OK. Still breathing, still alive. I just wish I could see something. In fact…could someone please tell me where the hell I am going????

Breathe. Just breathe. Let’s take inventory.

I still have cell reception…so it’s ok to call. I just talked to a friend in fact, and tried to explain how I feel like I am walking around in some kind of hazy gelatinous bubble. Yup, a snakey shadow of my former self.

And like I said, I am still breathing, I guess that’s a plus. I just can’t understand how I got here. It’s dark and lonely. Everything looks muddy, and even though this thing keeps moving, I have no idea where we are headed. Oh, am I repeating myself? Well, for all I know this big old serpent might only be going in circles.

I know people are out there. I can hear the muffled concern. I’m just not sure they see me clearly. And I understand how it must look from the outside! A little scary to approach… potentially venomous. I’d really like to be able to say, “I won’t bite!”, but what do you expect? I am in the belly of fucking a snake!! Obviously, I don’t have control. Or perspective. Which reminds me, could YOU please CALL ME? Even though I have your number, it’s really hard to dial from in here.

Nope, sorry, no idea how or when I will get out. But one thing is for sure, if I make it to the other side, I definitely won’t be wearing the same skin I went in with.