A good friend today sent me the following quote from the work of Paul Tillich, German-American Theologian and Existentialist Philosopher (1886 - 1965)
Loneliness expresses the pain of being alone, and solitude expresses the glory of being alone.
Roll on the change from pain to glory! Had a final session, before the cruise, with the therapist today. He, himself, will be away next week. But I will see him again when I get back. He has been of some help. When back, I will also link up with the Bereavement Support Group at COR.
The Effexor has taken away most of the anxiety and panic I was experiencing, and I am feeling more rational about the next seven weeks. The house is at the same time my refuge and my torture - a safe shelter, but so many reminders of Di. I miss not sitting down, together, taking a break from the day's hectic activities, to watch the 5 pm TV news, with a glass of wine, chatting about the day's events. But that will never happen again, and I must simply get used to it. Simply - that's the key. It is not simple. It is very hard and difficult, and needs considerable time for the adjustment of attitudes.
There is so much clean up work to be done around here. It has been neglected over the last two years. I just do not have the energy or inspiration at the moment, although I have done some. Perhaps I will come back from the trip inspired to get active and do what is necessary, and be radical. That is to be hoped for.
Peace and love to all. Geoff.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
How I miss you!
How I miss Di. And it is already three months. I miss the closeness, the touching, the conversation, the embraces, the lesser intimacies and her insight into situations. Saying hello to you as I pass by the cathedral Memorial Garden is no substitute.
Today I had Molly's company again. Even though we do not talk a lot, she is a bright companion.
The cruise is coming up quickly. Always, before, with Di, it has been exciting, and we could hardly wait to get on board. We had prepared together, researched cities we would visit, got maps etc. This time there is no enthusiasm. I think that if I could cancel it without financial penalty, I would.
Have now been on the starter dose of Effexor for three days, and there is some improvement. It seems to have taken away a lot of the anxiety and panic I was feeling. But I am not sleeping well, even with a sleeping pill. I tend to wake about 4:30 am, and cannot get back to sleep. So I get up at 5:00 am and read. When I double the dose of Effexor, after 7 days, I will look for more improvement. it also seems to have reduced the loneliness a bit, and I am more satisfied with my own company. tonight Molly and I went the Cathedral to help with preparation of the meal for Cafe Grazia. She seemed enthusiastic about doing that.
While Molly was here today, Ella seemed very unsettled and would not leave my side. I wonder what she is sensing?
Friends are looking after me, and feeding me. But that has a downside also. After losing a little weight, I am now putting it on again, with all these good meals. Have not ridden my bike for a while because of the heat. If there is a cool time in the morning I like to get Ella out for her mile walk. But I suppose it will not get any better, weatherwise, before I leave. Love and peace to all. Geoff
Today I had Molly's company again. Even though we do not talk a lot, she is a bright companion.
The cruise is coming up quickly. Always, before, with Di, it has been exciting, and we could hardly wait to get on board. We had prepared together, researched cities we would visit, got maps etc. This time there is no enthusiasm. I think that if I could cancel it without financial penalty, I would.
Have now been on the starter dose of Effexor for three days, and there is some improvement. It seems to have taken away a lot of the anxiety and panic I was feeling. But I am not sleeping well, even with a sleeping pill. I tend to wake about 4:30 am, and cannot get back to sleep. So I get up at 5:00 am and read. When I double the dose of Effexor, after 7 days, I will look for more improvement. it also seems to have reduced the loneliness a bit, and I am more satisfied with my own company. tonight Molly and I went the Cathedral to help with preparation of the meal for Cafe Grazia. She seemed enthusiastic about doing that.
While Molly was here today, Ella seemed very unsettled and would not leave my side. I wonder what she is sensing?
Friends are looking after me, and feeding me. But that has a downside also. After losing a little weight, I am now putting it on again, with all these good meals. Have not ridden my bike for a while because of the heat. If there is a cool time in the morning I like to get Ella out for her mile walk. But I suppose it will not get any better, weatherwise, before I leave. Love and peace to all. Geoff
Monday, July 26, 2010
A Three Month Anniversary
All major losses make permanent changes in your life!!
Today marks three months since Dianne died, on Monday April 26th. 2010. My book, "Life After Loss", describes grieving as an endurance test, and cites two to three years as an average time of grieving. Of course! One year is too short a time. For years I have told my divorced friends that it seems to take three years to recover from an unwanted divorce. Why would death be any different?
It says "grief is heavy", and fatigue is one of the most common symptoms. Agree with that. "Grief fitness" takes time, you have to work up to it. Agree with that too. Don't feel as fit as I did before Di's death, but I'm working at it slowly, and will work on it more on the ship, when I won't have the dog and the house to look after. The book says; "The third month after the death of a loved one,.......is one the most difficult times of all........Enough has happened by this time that denying your loss is impossible. If your spouse died, you have had three full months of filing insurance papers, death certificates and social security forms" How true! But, so far, at least, I am not feeling that worse third month pain. I think the first six weeks were worse, when I just felt stunned and woozy and lost all the time. But we will see.
Today I started on Effexor, an anti depressant, low dose to commence, and then double after a week. It seems to be helping already.
Today I was taken out to lunch by Mike S., a cathedral friend. We had a good, vigorous conversation, no blank spaces. He is a bluff personality. But, once during lunch, he lost it briefly saying, "As I look across at you, there used to be two of you." That produced a moist eyed reply. Di and his wife had a special rapport, because she had acute myeloid leukemia, and underwent chemotherapy also, successfully. Mike has five cardiac stents in place. As he says, "They are having a race to see who catches the boat first". In the midst of life we are in death!
I don't fear death. It would be not unwelcome, and would enable me to join Dianne. But what I DO fear is disability, and astronomic medical expenses, which would take all I have left, and leave nothing for the kids, most of whom need help. I do not want to be in the position Di found herself in, when she said "Everything I prayed would not happen, has happened." But I have little say in that, except to keep myself as fit as possible.
Last night, Mark gave me the CD of Di's memorial service, and I was able to view it with relatively little tearfulness. Like so many others at the service, I was so impressed by what our sons and daughter said in the way of tributes to their mother. I have heard that comment repeatedly, and I am so grateful to them all. They painted a portrait of their mother in words, and gave that picture as a gift to Di's friends and family. On that day I could not have done it without sobbing. But I am so grateful that all of them were able to say what they did, with dignity, love and humor. It was a day of celebration.
So, for the present, I just keep on keeping on, treading the path and living the adventure. Note, I did not say I was looking for another hill to climb. But, in a way, I am climbing a very big hill. But I didn't look for this one, and did not begin the climb voluntarily. Love to all. and may calmness and peace of mind rest upon us all. Geoff
Today marks three months since Dianne died, on Monday April 26th. 2010. My book, "Life After Loss", describes grieving as an endurance test, and cites two to three years as an average time of grieving. Of course! One year is too short a time. For years I have told my divorced friends that it seems to take three years to recover from an unwanted divorce. Why would death be any different?
It says "grief is heavy", and fatigue is one of the most common symptoms. Agree with that. "Grief fitness" takes time, you have to work up to it. Agree with that too. Don't feel as fit as I did before Di's death, but I'm working at it slowly, and will work on it more on the ship, when I won't have the dog and the house to look after. The book says; "The third month after the death of a loved one,.......is one the most difficult times of all........Enough has happened by this time that denying your loss is impossible. If your spouse died, you have had three full months of filing insurance papers, death certificates and social security forms" How true! But, so far, at least, I am not feeling that worse third month pain. I think the first six weeks were worse, when I just felt stunned and woozy and lost all the time. But we will see.
Today I started on Effexor, an anti depressant, low dose to commence, and then double after a week. It seems to be helping already.
Today I was taken out to lunch by Mike S., a cathedral friend. We had a good, vigorous conversation, no blank spaces. He is a bluff personality. But, once during lunch, he lost it briefly saying, "As I look across at you, there used to be two of you." That produced a moist eyed reply. Di and his wife had a special rapport, because she had acute myeloid leukemia, and underwent chemotherapy also, successfully. Mike has five cardiac stents in place. As he says, "They are having a race to see who catches the boat first". In the midst of life we are in death!
I don't fear death. It would be not unwelcome, and would enable me to join Dianne. But what I DO fear is disability, and astronomic medical expenses, which would take all I have left, and leave nothing for the kids, most of whom need help. I do not want to be in the position Di found herself in, when she said "Everything I prayed would not happen, has happened." But I have little say in that, except to keep myself as fit as possible.
Last night, Mark gave me the CD of Di's memorial service, and I was able to view it with relatively little tearfulness. Like so many others at the service, I was so impressed by what our sons and daughter said in the way of tributes to their mother. I have heard that comment repeatedly, and I am so grateful to them all. They painted a portrait of their mother in words, and gave that picture as a gift to Di's friends and family. On that day I could not have done it without sobbing. But I am so grateful that all of them were able to say what they did, with dignity, love and humor. It was a day of celebration.
So, for the present, I just keep on keeping on, treading the path and living the adventure. Note, I did not say I was looking for another hill to climb. But, in a way, I am climbing a very big hill. But I didn't look for this one, and did not begin the climb voluntarily. Love to all. and may calmness and peace of mind rest upon us all. Geoff
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Wrenching farewells
"Tis the season of wrenching farewells. Said goodbye to Dean Terry White this morning as he moves on to become Bishop of Kentucky. He conducted Dianne's funeral service, and had been a magnificent pastor to us during final Di's illness. He gave so freely of his time to us, and was a sage counselor.
Unfortunately, some of the same music sung at Di's funeral service were sung this morning. So, it was doubly emotional, but I as able to sing through it, as I could not at the funeral service.
The chaplain from St. Luke's Hospice recently contacted me, and came out to see me. He was ordained at the church Betty and John used to attend in Auroura, in Denver. He left me with a book called "Life After Loss", which has been very validating about the gamut of emotions I have felt, especially forgetfulness in these early months. I was beginning to think I must have had a stroke, but had not recognized it.
I 'm now at the stage where I know I will get through this. My life with Di is over, is gone forever, and I have accepted that. But I have yet to find something to form what the book calls " A New Normal". So, the search goes on for meaning after loss.
Tomorrow, when the pharmacy can fill the Rx, I will start Effexor, an antidepressant, to see if that will help to lift me out of the doldrums, in which I find myself. There were a lot of side effects from the hypertensive medication, and the cardiologist has halved that dose to see if that will work as well, with fewer side effects. In the meantime all my flights for my return are booked, and I will be ready to leave, on August 10th, from KC.
I feel so bad for Ella, as she will have to go to the kennel for 7 weeks. But she will have the company of other dogs there, something she does not have at home. She follows me round from room to room, and welcomes me effusively when I return home after being out. She doesn't have to be in close contact with me, just in the same room. She is a sweet little soul.
So, there we are, on the road to somewhere, living the adventure, open to opportunities and experiences. We'll just have to see where life leads. Love to you all, and peace. Terry struggled to say the final blessing this morning. Farewells are hard.
Unfortunately, some of the same music sung at Di's funeral service were sung this morning. So, it was doubly emotional, but I as able to sing through it, as I could not at the funeral service.
The chaplain from St. Luke's Hospice recently contacted me, and came out to see me. He was ordained at the church Betty and John used to attend in Auroura, in Denver. He left me with a book called "Life After Loss", which has been very validating about the gamut of emotions I have felt, especially forgetfulness in these early months. I was beginning to think I must have had a stroke, but had not recognized it.
I 'm now at the stage where I know I will get through this. My life with Di is over, is gone forever, and I have accepted that. But I have yet to find something to form what the book calls " A New Normal". So, the search goes on for meaning after loss.
Tomorrow, when the pharmacy can fill the Rx, I will start Effexor, an antidepressant, to see if that will help to lift me out of the doldrums, in which I find myself. There were a lot of side effects from the hypertensive medication, and the cardiologist has halved that dose to see if that will work as well, with fewer side effects. In the meantime all my flights for my return are booked, and I will be ready to leave, on August 10th, from KC.
I feel so bad for Ella, as she will have to go to the kennel for 7 weeks. But she will have the company of other dogs there, something she does not have at home. She follows me round from room to room, and welcomes me effusively when I return home after being out. She doesn't have to be in close contact with me, just in the same room. She is a sweet little soul.
So, there we are, on the road to somewhere, living the adventure, open to opportunities and experiences. We'll just have to see where life leads. Love to you all, and peace. Terry struggled to say the final blessing this morning. Farewells are hard.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
An evening with the grandies
It was a pleasure to see their loving faces when they arrived yesterday afternoon. They were very good, went to bed easily and early, and slept soundly. They were up about 7, and impatient for their father to get here so they could get on to the next venture for today - a visit to the Egyptian exhibit at the Nelson Art Gallery, lunch somewhere, and a play date with a new friend in Gardner, on the way home. I remember how it was always such a loving experience having them visit when Di was alive. I am determined to keep that welcoming, loving spirit in the house.
Today I dropped off a letter to my FP about starting anti depressants. I am almost afraid to tempt fate by adding them to the pharmacological "stew" that I am already taking, but feel I have little option, if I am to improve. and enjoy the trip to OZ. The constancy of Richard's companionship should take away the loneliness that I am currently experiencing. Two days ago I talked about how difficult it is to rebuild a life. There are some days when I ask myself: "Do I want to? Is it worth it?"
Di and I always have tried to teach the family by example rather than dictates. I could not just give up so quickly, and "chicken out" when things get difficult, even though at times I might think I might want to. But sometimes it feels tempting. I sometimes feel I just don't have the drive or energy to do this. But our kids are all having individual difficulties of one sort or another. What kind of example would that be, were I to chicken out just because it got hard? So, I keep working at it. Will see the psychologist again tomorrow, and talk some more. It is a safe venue in which to talk about grief. Hopefully, with the passage of time, I will feel less need to vent.
I keep looking for that end point: "You will know your grief work is done when all your memories become memories of celebration, rather than loss."Pax vobiscum! Love, Geoff/Dad/ Pop Pop
Today I dropped off a letter to my FP about starting anti depressants. I am almost afraid to tempt fate by adding them to the pharmacological "stew" that I am already taking, but feel I have little option, if I am to improve. and enjoy the trip to OZ. The constancy of Richard's companionship should take away the loneliness that I am currently experiencing. Two days ago I talked about how difficult it is to rebuild a life. There are some days when I ask myself: "Do I want to? Is it worth it?"
Di and I always have tried to teach the family by example rather than dictates. I could not just give up so quickly, and "chicken out" when things get difficult, even though at times I might think I might want to. But sometimes it feels tempting. I sometimes feel I just don't have the drive or energy to do this. But our kids are all having individual difficulties of one sort or another. What kind of example would that be, were I to chicken out just because it got hard? So, I keep working at it. Will see the psychologist again tomorrow, and talk some more. It is a safe venue in which to talk about grief. Hopefully, with the passage of time, I will feel less need to vent.
I keep looking for that end point: "You will know your grief work is done when all your memories become memories of celebration, rather than loss."Pax vobiscum! Love, Geoff/Dad/ Pop Pop
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
The Gifts of Friends
Yesterday, from my former EFM colleague, Bob, I received the most beautiful letter I have ever received. Bob is a former minister, and a great "people person". He was kind enough to give me an evening last week, (and "give" is the active word), to listen, comfort and encourage.
Similarly this morning, I had an extended coffee with Linda Y., with whom I was able to explain how I felt, and ask some challenging questions. I wondered when I would feel "whole" again. Linda's reply was "You will never feel whole again, (in that things will never be like they were), but you will learn to accept living alone better, as time passes". We talked about how rebuilding a life is really hard work. But there is no alternative, except passive reclusiveness and misery.
Linda is a fine minister (deacon). It is difficult to talk with most other men, (especially younger men), about such personal grief. They become tongue tied or embarrassed, and move away with a "Gee, I'm sorry". But who am I to criticize? My response would have been just as barren and non comforting until I experienced this. As Bob said in his letter. "The pain and suffering (your tears) represent--- if not chased away, or buried deeply--- will help open your heart to another dimension of yourself".
Since my helpful session with Linda this morning, the day has gone better than expected. I was able to get to the gym this afternoon and have a pretty reasonable workout. It was there that I met my "tongue tied" friend, also named Jeff. He is a younger man with whom I have formed an acquaintanceship. He is pleasant, a self employed builder, and a very pleasant person. How we, as men, insulate ourselves from emotional involvement! It is just too hard for us.
Gloom is less as time passes. But I think I will ask for antidepressant help, after all. Most long term planning will have to await my return from OZ. At the moment, the emphasis is on getting away, and getting the house "dejunked".
AFter a few very jot days we have a big thunderstorm tonight. Fortunately, no tornadic weather, just wind and rain. Fortunately, it doesn't seem to bother Ella too much. She is a faithful companion, May peace and love find you, a and return to me. Love, Geoff
Similarly this morning, I had an extended coffee with Linda Y., with whom I was able to explain how I felt, and ask some challenging questions. I wondered when I would feel "whole" again. Linda's reply was "You will never feel whole again, (in that things will never be like they were), but you will learn to accept living alone better, as time passes". We talked about how rebuilding a life is really hard work. But there is no alternative, except passive reclusiveness and misery.
Linda is a fine minister (deacon). It is difficult to talk with most other men, (especially younger men), about such personal grief. They become tongue tied or embarrassed, and move away with a "Gee, I'm sorry". But who am I to criticize? My response would have been just as barren and non comforting until I experienced this. As Bob said in his letter. "The pain and suffering (your tears) represent--- if not chased away, or buried deeply--- will help open your heart to another dimension of yourself".
Since my helpful session with Linda this morning, the day has gone better than expected. I was able to get to the gym this afternoon and have a pretty reasonable workout. It was there that I met my "tongue tied" friend, also named Jeff. He is a younger man with whom I have formed an acquaintanceship. He is pleasant, a self employed builder, and a very pleasant person. How we, as men, insulate ourselves from emotional involvement! It is just too hard for us.
Gloom is less as time passes. But I think I will ask for antidepressant help, after all. Most long term planning will have to await my return from OZ. At the moment, the emphasis is on getting away, and getting the house "dejunked".
AFter a few very jot days we have a big thunderstorm tonight. Fortunately, no tornadic weather, just wind and rain. Fortunately, it doesn't seem to bother Ella too much. She is a faithful companion, May peace and love find you, a and return to me. Love, Geoff
Monday, July 19, 2010
Look outside!
Today was a fair day. I was able to get almost all of the filing done, and now I can see most of the horizontal surfaces in the house.
The heat makes it difficult to get outside much, and one is hunkered down in the house where it is cool. This leads to a certain amount of "stir craziness". But I have made the effort to get out to Starbucks, and will also meet Linda Y, there tomorrow. It is clear that all outgoing initiative is going to have to come from me. Nobody will do it for me, and I will have to learn new ways of relating to people and their interests.
Di was always the one who made friends easily, in a wide circle of activities, and I went along for the ride. Now it has to be me who extends the hand of friendship, and welcomes people in. I still feel very dull and stunned, and not exactly outgoing and extroverted. Perhaps it would be a good idea to go back on antidepressants for 6-12 months. Tomorrow I will talk with my FP doctor about it. While I do not feel that I am slipping back, I also do not feel I am making forward progress as rapidly as I would like.
There is lot of work still to do getting the house in order before I leave. On the Monday before I leave I will have Carrie, the CNA, who worked with us on the day Dianne died, come in and "burn" through the place, so I will leave it as clean and ready for reoccupancy as I can. She worked so hard for us that day. She is also a nice, happy person, and good to have around, as a person, as well as a worker.
Have not heard from my cruise companion in a while, and he has not filled in, on line, the information the cruise line wants and needs. I have sent him a few e-mails without response. Hope he is OK. However, I do know he was going to be doing some other traveling before leaving for LA. Also, his sole remaining elderly sister in Queensland had not been well. So, he may simply be away somewhere, temporarily. I will leave it at that for tonight. Love and peace to all, and may it come back to me. Geoff
The heat makes it difficult to get outside much, and one is hunkered down in the house where it is cool. This leads to a certain amount of "stir craziness". But I have made the effort to get out to Starbucks, and will also meet Linda Y, there tomorrow. It is clear that all outgoing initiative is going to have to come from me. Nobody will do it for me, and I will have to learn new ways of relating to people and their interests.
Di was always the one who made friends easily, in a wide circle of activities, and I went along for the ride. Now it has to be me who extends the hand of friendship, and welcomes people in. I still feel very dull and stunned, and not exactly outgoing and extroverted. Perhaps it would be a good idea to go back on antidepressants for 6-12 months. Tomorrow I will talk with my FP doctor about it. While I do not feel that I am slipping back, I also do not feel I am making forward progress as rapidly as I would like.
There is lot of work still to do getting the house in order before I leave. On the Monday before I leave I will have Carrie, the CNA, who worked with us on the day Dianne died, come in and "burn" through the place, so I will leave it as clean and ready for reoccupancy as I can. She worked so hard for us that day. She is also a nice, happy person, and good to have around, as a person, as well as a worker.
Have not heard from my cruise companion in a while, and he has not filled in, on line, the information the cruise line wants and needs. I have sent him a few e-mails without response. Hope he is OK. However, I do know he was going to be doing some other traveling before leaving for LA. Also, his sole remaining elderly sister in Queensland had not been well. So, he may simply be away somewhere, temporarily. I will leave it at that for tonight. Love and peace to all, and may it come back to me. Geoff
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