What Are You Thankful For

Life is hard. Need I say more? Well, yes, or this would be a very short blog. Life is hard. It is the hardness that enhances the softer things in life. We are celebrating Thanksgiving, but perhaps we should just be thankful for things to celebrate.

As we go into the holiday season, many are struggling, worrying, wondering how they will get by. Some are waiting for test results, wondering if life as they know it is about to change. Some are grieving....and will be for the rest of their days. Some are expecting and filled with wonder. Some are full of happy anticipation. Some are full of fear. Some are thrilled to be decorating, some are trying to muster the energy to decorate. Some are just trying to make it through the next ten minutes. Which camp are you in? It's okay if you have a foot on one side, and one on the other, all the while tap dancing, juggling and faking it until you make it. We aren't just one thing....we are many facets of a complicated life.

While Thanksgiving centers around family and food, it is possible to take that down to more simple realities. We can take it from the larger picture, the "perfect" holiday image, to small bites of our real life. This is the second year I've placed an interactive sign on the sidewalk for comments about "what are you thankful for". I post what I am thankful for, although I could cover the whole sign with just my own gratitude's. Then I leave sticky notes, and tape for passers by to add their own. I have considered the possibility that no one will comment. If that was the case, it would be okay. This sign is an invitation to pause and ponder. To find some good, no matter how small, to wrap our hearts around. There are about 10 messages on it as I write. From people who are thankful for their faith, family, flowers and birds, health, good neighbors, for being Grandma's, for having friends who are more like sisters. The FedEx guy is thankful for his/her family and faith, our country and the opportunity to post on my sign. They weren't even delivering to my house, but stopped to be grateful. I love that one! I suspect that some paused in gratitude even if they didn't post. That's a win right there.

We can take the most awful life event...and somewhere down the road find a reason, find some clarity, and be grateful. We can take a leap of faith trusting all will be well. In that wellness, in that reality, we can dig deep and embrace thanksgiving.

Where ever you are in life, pause....... Find a hundred reasons to be thankful. Or, if life is hard, dig deep to find one small nugget of gratitude. If life is really, really, hard, trust that gratitude is growing, manifesting and will break out of the darkness into light.  Know that I am grateful for you. I'm grateful for the blessed, and the bumpy path that led me to this place in life. For the courage to put out a sign that invites you to say "What Are You Thankful For". 

P.S I'm thankful for my health, home, kiddos, old dogs, family/friends, for the opportunity to pay forward for the times I was carried by the love of others. This, and about a thousand other things. I may just need a larger sign.

Gratitude, Gifts and Gravy

It is that time of year, holidays approaching, the end of the year on the horizon. The season shifts, our mood swings, expectations ramp up because of holiday mania. 

I'll break it down. For Thanksgiving all we really need to do is find one reason, or a million reasons if you can, to give thanks. It can be as simple as I have coffee in my cup. It could be I am thankful that I am not who and where I was 365 days ago, or ten days ago, or even yesterday. I am thankful for answered prayers. I am thankful for lessons learned and the events that pushed me to learn them. I am thankful for food on my table. It could be I am thankful I have enough food to share with others who are struggling. It could be I am thankful for a dear one recovering from illness. Perhaps it is the renewed decision that I choose life. Each and every day I choose life.

For Christmas the only gift we really need to give is that of our love, time, faith, encouragement, support. There is no supply chain shortage there. Anything else is gravy. And yes, I do love gravy, but gravy manifests in many ways.

There is also sadness, anxiety, a feeling of regret and grief that shadows this time of the year. We are not alone in this. You are not alone in this. Grief feels heavier during the holidays. Try as we might to ignore it, stuff it, forget it. It's there. The brightness of the holidays dim because of it.

It's okay to feel a little off during this season. To feel our losses deeper. It's okay if the holly isn't as jolly as it used to be. It's okay if this is my reality, maybe your's too. Own it, shed some light on it and trust the process. We have reasons to be grateful. We are a gift to others just as we are. Grief and all. P.S. Enjoy the gravy.

 

In The Moment

There is something sacred about sharing time with a beloved pet. Especially when their days are limited. Yes, I know all our days are limited. We just don't know where we are in the countdown. 

Knowing they are close to the finish line, makes the time with them all the more precious. That knowledge pulls us into the moment. Time is short and precious. Animals are always in the moment. They are way ahead of us that way.

I am slowing down to savor time with one of mine. More gentle touches, smooches, cuddles. A greater appreciation for the bond and journey shared. Walks take on new meaning. Yes, of course you can stand and sniff some scent that is bliss to you and undetected by me. Yes, you can have soft food instead of kibble. Yes, I will gaze at you and marvel at how lucky I am to share life with you. No, I will never understand how someone could give you up. Their loss, totally my gain.

I wish I could spend all day with you instead of leaving to spend hours away at work. I would gladly watch you nap the day away. Or watch you lick the couch cover the way old dogs will sometimes do. Or watch your paws twitch as you dream. If only we could see what you dream. I know I'm not nearly as cute when I sleep as you are. You forgive my snoring and I adore your cuddling. Thankfully I am as fascinated with you as you are with me.

So we slow down to take each day as a gift. To be unwrapped and savored. To give thanks that someone decided you were dispensable, so I could discover you were indispensable. I celebrate when you meet me at the door because each day is cause for celebration. You know that instinctively, I need to be reminded. I will meet your needs as they change and love you home when I need to. Until that moment, I will cherish this moment. I am as grateful as you are faithful. You will always give me more than I can give you. In a way, we are both lucky dogs.

XYZ

I am trying to find grace and gratitude for where I am in life, because Lord knows alone is never where I wanted to be. A survivor of suicide loss is never what I wanted to be. I never wanted to be divorced, and I never wanted to be widowed. I never wanted to suffer from a multitude of things that came with this life I have been blessed with. Yes, blessed, even when parts of it were a total shit show. Owning it, the messy, complicated, dysfunctional person I am, and the journey it's taken me on.

There it is. I am imperfect. I am human. I find some people irritating, and others delightful. Pretty sure I am both irritating and delightful. Hopefully, 80% delightful and 20%, give or take, irritating. But hey, numbers and percentages? Not my gig.

It is completely possible to live a life filled with gratitude and at the same time wrestle with being grateful. I wouldn't be here without XYZ having happened. In the case of my children XYZ was the greatest blessing of my life. XYZ also led me to being a single Mother and a crazy dog lady. Not sure those were on my list of life goals, but I've rocked that out by the grace of God.

XYZ led me to a second marriage, life in rural Nebraska and a sense of belonging in a place I never new I needed. It came with trials and triumphs. Life just does. XYZ led me down a rugged path full of stigma, regrets and grief. It led me out of the country and back to what was once home. I'd be lying if I didn't say I long for gravel roads and country living. It led me to being alone, which is exactly what I never ever wanted. Obviously, though what I needed. XYZ also led me to the constant four footed companions that bring me such joy. It pushed me to put their needs first and in return I soak in their devotion. It moved me to taking them out for walks nearly every day of the year for their bliss, which also became mine. We don't always go far, but we go. Today we walked in the rain. Yes, it would have been easier to stay in. To say, not today, not in the rain, maybe later. But all the XYZ's led me to say why not in the rain? Why not? 

Why not show up for life in the rain, and in the shine? Why not laugh at the incongruity of it all? Why not get wet and why not cherish soft towels to dry us off? If XYZ hadn't occurred, the walk we took today would never have happened. The rain added a new layer of memories. A new experience of gratitude, a new sense of adventure. XYZ is full of grace, and soft towels to dry off with come in a myriad of shapes. Many we could never imagine. We just have to stay the course. Whatever your XYZ is, know it's exactly where you need to be. Know it's blessed, even when it's rugged. Know you will be provided with soft towels as needed. Be open to them, use them and give thanks. And maybe, just maybe, those towels should be monogrammed with XYZ.

A Mixed Bag

Most every day, on my way home, I get a brief glimpse of a bright red barn and a lovely new home under construction. It is in the rolling hills, with a stunning view. And I imagine, no, I know this is someone's dream home. They dreamed of the red barn, they wished, worked, hoped and loved this home, on this acreage, into existence. Daily it progresses, dreams to fruition.

Most days I get my glimpse and send good wishes and blessings into the universe for them. For their dream coming true. We see other's dreams come true. We see it in newlyweds, we see it for graduates, we see it in job promotions, in new babies, when people retire, those who travel the world. We see dreams come true. And, we may just have some mixed feelings. 

Life changes sometimes shatter our dreams. Just as life changes can also bring our dreams into reality. It's a mixed bag, this life we live. The view from the distance can be stunning, and perhaps it is. Or, perhaps it isn't as shiny as it looks.

I don't know how long the road has been for the people building this house. But I'd be lying if I didn't wish that was my house, my land, my dream come true. It calls to my country heart and touches on tattered dreams along the way. 

At this junction the temptation is to say, hey now. Look at how blessed you are, how lovely your home is. There are people who would love to have my home, my life, the luxuries of food, clothing, garden, employment, pets, personal freedom....you get my drift. I can be completely grateful for the life I live, and still wish for the house being built in the rolling hills. I can wish for someone to share the process and the end results with. I can even envy them a little. Owning it is the first step. I can plant one foot firmly in gratitude and the other in wishful dreaming with a dash of envy mixed in. That makes me a more honest me. But it also makes me wonder if I've used up all of my dreams come true. Time will tell. Please tell me I'm not alone in this.

So there you have it. A mixture of awe and envy. Both valid feelings. Part of life. So I give myself permission to own all the feelings, and to send good wishes into the universe as someone else's dream comes true. Especially when they include red barns and country homes. 

 

#outofthedarkness

Four years ago today life changed. One life died. Life after began. In the years since I've participated in several groups that support those who have lost someone to suicide. It has been eye opening and heartbreaking. Each story is different, only the end result is the same. None of us chose to be in a group like this. All of us are horrified to belong. Each of us are changed by it. Each of us suffers the loss daily as we try to rebuild a new life.

Some might wonder if there were signs leading up to his choice. Some were subtle, some not so subtle. He had lost a sister to suicide which doubled his risk. He'd had a stroke but was recovering well from it. Our marriage was failing. There was help available, help offered, our prayer community prayed for him, people reached out to him, medication was taken sporadically and then quit entirely. He denied that he was at risk. He mostly did not let on that he was lost and struggling. I knew of his struggle by the ways he took his pain out on me. We are sometimes most hurtful to those we care about. His family knew and reached out. Sadly, one cannot control another persons choice/actions.

In that darkness of his last day he met with his friends from the coffee cult at the Co-op. He did not let them know of his tenuous hold on life. He let himself into the house where the rage, pain and hopelessness overtook him. He expressed rage in the form of vandalizing the house with hateful graffiti written on the walls, art work, cabinets. He damaged personal items, he destroyed a list of daily gratitude's I kept. He shot a hole in the bath tub because he could. In a manner he shared his pain tangibly before he ended it. He expressed his last F-you. He called 911 and while talking to the dispatcher he fired his gun. There is small comfort in knowing he was not entirely alone as he completed his choice. 

In all of this I know he loved his children and grandchildren with his whole heart and soul. He loved his friends. He loved the Oklahoma Sooner's and the Steeler's, cigars, scotch, fishing, hunting and life in the country. He loved to shoot the shit with anyone willing to chat. He was an expert at that. He knew the pain of suicide loss and yet succumbed to it himself. He struggled with mental health and chose not to treat it. As a man, particularly, the stigma of that illness factored in. He didn't like doctors to begin with. He was not great at owning mistakes in life. And face it, we all make mistakes in life. We are humans who experience human moments of error, hurtful actions, painful mistakes. We all have opportunities to grow. We all have regrets.

Afterwards I clearly remember repeatedly saying "it didn't have to be like this". Trying to wrap my head around this new reality and the enormity of his actions.  I cannot stress this enough. It didn't have to be like this. If we are able to take one step toward mental health and suicide awareness let it be this. It does not have to be like this. It begins with one step, sometimes just one short phrase saying I am not okay. I am not okay is the most okay truth we can own. I am not okay is not a death sentence.  I am not okay is not a shameful thing to say. I am not okay is a life affirming step towards help.

Yesterday I attending the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention Out Of The Darkness Walk. I stood with thousands of other grieving people who lost someone to mental illness. I stood for hope and for mental health. I stood for a man who suffered and lost the battle. I stood with the compassionate understanding that it is okay to not be okay. I stood understanding that life is hard, that we all suffer at some point in our life, we all make mistakes. Our challenge is to grow through our struggles. To be a light for others. To seek out the light when we fight the darkness. Speak of the darkness, own the darkness. Step out of the darkness. It doesn't have to be like this. Your life matters. 

Between Here and There

 A lot of life is spent between here and there. Here and there happens in relationships, on the job, on the road, in retrospect, in the future. 

This time of year I spend a lot of time between here, and there. There being the days leading up to my husband's choice to end his life. And, here, being where I am now. I have a journal I look back at to remember details of what "there" looked like at the time. Honestly, there was pretty ugly. It was worse than I realized at the time. Because I didn't know what I now know about mental health, about relationships, about making different choices. We look at the outside and think "they" have it all. You may have thought that about us. I may have thought that about us. What looks like all is not everything. Inside can be so very different. Our "there" would appall most of you, often it still appalls me. 

Which leads me to here. Here is what I make of it, being led by faith, sustained by people who love me, healing day-by-day. Here is building a new life. Yes, it takes years to build a new life. Building a new life means facing fears. Rational fears, irrational fears, and moments of anxiety. It involves leaving what you know and trusting you'll be okay. Case in point, I've been walking at a lovely park for almost a year, staying safely on the cement path. Surrounded by lovely hills complete with dirt walking paths I've been afraid of venturing onto. Why? Because I don't know where the path goes. Not knowing escalates my anxiety. It is hard to feel safe after experiencing trauma. 

Today, the dogs and I left the safe path and took the path unknown. Now, if I was more directionally gifted, I would worry less. I'm not that person. Still we meandered the path. Next time I'll even let myself enjoy it. I trusted my scant directional instincts and got us back to where I wanted to be. I did breathe a sigh of relief.

Here includes reclaiming my sense of adventure. Here includes building resilience. Here includes both honoring and letting go of the past. There happened, and one of us survived. I wish it was both of us. Here knows life is a process, sometimes pretty, sometimes painful. Here knows we have to push through to grow. We have to keep pushing. Between here and there may involve a dirt path. Take it. Then next time take it and let yourself enjoy it.