A Lesson on Paying Attention and Seeing Signs

A former first grade teacher that taught both of my girls was having stomach troubles after having beaten breast cancer a few years earlier.  She and her husband have a high school sophomore daughter, the same age as my eldest and an older son that is a senior in high school.  She was quiet and reserved but you knew she was present.  It took me a while to understand this though.  Having people in your life that are with you full on in the moments that you spend with them is an amazing gift.  It's nothing about themselves in that moment, it's all focused on you.  I have been diligently learning how to be present, especially with my children.  Shirley possessed that ability with such quiet grace.

I didn't really get to know her during the lower school years but after she retired, I had an experience when we were both chaperoning a middle school cotillion dance session.  This is when I saw the mom side of her and her sense of humor.  It was a wonderful surprise to get to know that side.  I didn't see her much after that as our children were at different schools.  But I struck up a friendship with her husband through social media.  He is the most gracious, friendly, down to earth, and kind man.  He doesn't meet a stranger and he sends a note to mark the smallest of occasions.   I think he read one of my blogs and made me feel special because he took the time to comment on what had struck a chord with him.

You never know how a small action can affect another person in a positive way.

This past April, I was sitting in an Old Navy dressing room with one of my daughters and I got a FB message from him, that was written by Shirley.  My heart dropped and the tears fell as I understood what I read. She had just been diagnosed with stomach cancer and the prognosis didn't seem good.

From an outsider's perspective, her writing and what her husband shared as times went on, she was strong and brave and had accepted her fate with a deep faithfulness.  I was awed by their strength. She had lost her own father young in her life.  She had conversations with her children for them to understand they knew her and would know what she would think for matters in the future.

Those are brave and vulnerable conversations.

This family's journey has struck something in me and has stayed with me.

As time progressed, there were updates through FB and then Caring Bridge.  By summer, they stopped treatment because she wanted to live out the rest of her time, with her family and travel.

From a selfish point of view, I thought what if I were in the same situation leaving my daughters and husband behind.

Life just doesn't seem fair.  I have come to expect that stuff just happens, and I think about my faith. Could I handle a journey like that?  Could I be gracious?  I still have a lot of fear and anxiety that pop up for me yet I am coming to understand the true unconditional nature of God.

I know for sure, that God has ways of helping me understand things that are too much for me, if I stay aware and open.  The signs of God's unconditional love never look like what I think they will, but they fill the need if I am patient and let go.  They are obvious especially as I practice observance.

In our neighborhood, for many months, there have been three pet bunnies that have roamed across the street in my neighbors' yards and sometimes in our own yard.  They ran mostly between the three yards directly across from my house.  When I have come outdoors, I never remembered to look for them.  I was always unexpectedly delighted in spotting a combination of the white one or the two brown ones.  Seeing those white cotton tails hop away brought me such joy in that moment.  But I also knew those bunnies weren't going to be around forever.  After a while, we noticed we hadn't spotted the white bunny for some time.

One Saturday a few weeks ago, Shirley's husband posted a picture on Facebook of a fox that was in their neighborhood.  On Sunday afternoon, my neighbor posted a picture with a very similar looking fox, with one of the brown bunnies that it had killed next to it.

What a coincidence.

I couldn't help but think of this family. They don't live that far away from us by foot with a BREC park and woods nearby.

Within days,  I received the news that Shirley had moved to a hospice facility.

And not much time after that, my husband texted me on his way to work that the fox was lying dead on one of the streets of our neighborhood.  It looked like it was peacefully sleeping with not a mark on it.

Again, my thoughts turned to this family.  What does this mean?

A few days later, my neighbor and I who have talked many times about the wildlife that has showed up in our area, texted me a picture of a beautiful white stately egret that was on her back fence.

That night Shirley passed away.

The next day, I read the news that she had moved into the great mystery.  That afternoon, Mallory and I spotted the egret with our own eyes in another neighbor's yard.

On the morning of her service, I was walking the dogs and it hit me that I really, really wanted to spot the remaining bunny before I left.  I had seen it previously and neighbors had seen it recently.

But then I got it.

I wasn't going to see the bunny.  I had already seen the beautiful white egret.



I don't have control over what happens in this world.  I have to look for the Divine signs that life goes on. Loved ones are still with us if we pay attention.


When I read the quotes in Shirley's funeral program, I was taken aback with what had been chosen.  They were so perfect and so meaningful.  It's more important what you do in your life in the time you have, how you make people feel and to celebrate even when things come to an end.  Be grateful for the moment at hand.  This has been a goal of mine to learn to live life in the moment at hand.

Shirley was a beautiful, gracious and faithful soul.  She inspires me to live my life authentically as I am.

Namaste.

Feeling the Love of Those Departed

(*Wrote this draft 2 years ago, but never published and was reminded about it yesterday when her ex-husband passed away. )

Watching Super Soul Sunday and something profoundly moves me.Madonna Badger, a woman from Connecticut, lost her three daughters and parents in a fire in her home on Christmas Eve 2011.

Now take that in.

Her older daughter was 9 and the twins were 7.  And her parents.  All in one night.
So much devastation and the woman is still standing.

She and Oprah talked about how lost loved ones are still with us.  Madonna shares her experience of conversations with her children and how mind-blowing it is.  She describes one particular time where her pain was so devastating, so deeply intense and the tears felt like blood coming from her eyes.  And she looked in the mirror and saw her children.  And they spoke to her and comforted her.  And she wanted to let who was with her know that it was real.

She says she can feel them and when this occurs her chest feels full.  And this only happens when she feels super present in her body. When she is bitter or angry, she cannot feel her children.

Whoa.  This struck my soul.

When I am bitter and angry, love does not come out.  Love is no where near.  Now, there is a place for anger and it can tell you where you need boundaries but staying in that place of anger and bitterness, does not move me forward and only leaves one stuck.  I have stayed angry about things for years and am slowly, slowly learning, I don't want to reside in anger any more.  I learn to allow anger to move through.  And I still stand amazed every time it does.

It seems Madonna's truth came quickly to her because it was the only way to experience her beloved children.

As Madonna vulnerably spoke this truth on this show, she commented that she doesn't understand why it is that way.

Anger does not take you to the profound places that love does. (Did I come up with this, I must have?)

Love is the answer. Love is always the answer.  And learning to love myself has always been the key to being able to turn it around and love others.

Namaste

Life or Death Decision (A hijacked blog)

Since George and I met twenty-three years ago, we have had a favorite child, non favorite child, two dogs, three cats, many fish and an assortment of other caged animals. I have grown into an animal person. I have also become a nap needed person I nap ALOT. I feel asleep while watching anything literally anything. I Carolyn am an introvert. I call myself a social introvert but my children do not think so. I also do not like to cook, clean up or any activity that involves moving. If I could I would sit in by bed all day. I am that kind of lazy person. I also do not have a good since of timing. My least favorite child thinks when you say a time you have to stick to the time. (Which is correct!!). I also text and drive which put myself, those also in the car with me and other around me in danger. Many Americans text and drive  but that needs to stop, myself included. While driving put your phone up, it CAN wait. So on conclusion on the short blog, I tell ALL my readers to not text and drive, AKA don't do anything on your cellular device when driving a car.

Please keep American and all Americans Save
Namaste,
Carolyn Ann Roddy Golightly, a texter and driver trying to quit.




Updates:
I still text and drive.


Is this a guest blog or did I write this myself? The world may never know.

No Words, Just A Firm Squeeze

My dad died two weeks ago.  His body had been failing him for quite a while.   The one kidney he had left stopped functioning years ago and then his weakened heart finally gave out during a procedure that was necessary to keep his body going.  That's the mechanics of the story.

The intimate part of the story is that he was my father.  A daughter looks to a dad to understand her meaning in the world.  The words that were floating in my head to describe him the morning after he died were quiet and sweet presence.  It took me 46 years to get to those words.   I then read the words my sister in law wrote which were more acutely accurate: "quiet, funny, sweet, sharp, dear and kind."  I forgot the sharp and funny.   And he was both of those.

I am funny and sharp when I allow myself to be.  Somewhere along the way I became too serious and forgot how healing laughter is.

I didn't have the kind of relationship I wanted with my dad.  I was never Daddy's little girl.  He was very quiet when it came to me.

I wanted more of him my whole life.

I longed for conversations with him about my life and things that I was interested in.  I longed to seem like I mattered in a way that I could recognize.   When I called my parents' home, he immediately handed the phone over to my mother.  This is normal for some people.  I think it was his generation as the provider and it was his personality.   He called me on the phone several years ago and it was the only time I ever remember him doing so and it was during a time that I was having a break of contact with my mom.  I had needed space to figure out who I was. Even though he questioned if I needed to be taken out of his will because I was not spending time with the family, I took advantage of the opportunity.  I put my heart on the line and said what I was never able to verbalize before to him.  I was vulnerable with a capital V.   (I displayed vulnerability as whole hearted people do even before I understood the concept - thank you Brene Brown!)  I said I missed him and had wanted to interact with him more growing up.  I needed his presence.  He replied that "he was who he was and was not going to change."

It was very painful to hear.

Thus began one of the biggest lessons of my life, and that is, to take people off pedestals that I place them on, of who I think they are and how I think they should be, and allow them to be who they are.  It can be a terrifically tough pill to swallow but is a necessary truth of life for me.  The journey began then to learn to give myself what I needed as a child and now as an adult.

So I grieved, a lot, over the next few years and there was much anger as well but over time slowly learned to accept who he was and what he had to give and accept who I am.  Anything I received from him at this point was bonus.  On the occasions we saw each other, and I leaned in for a goodbye hug, I noticed he squeezed me harder and held on longer than in the past.  This was his way.  No words, just a firm squeeze.

The day that he died, he never fully came out of anesthesia from his procedure.  He began moving his hands and his head though.  I watched the nurse, talk to him and ask him to squeeze her hand.  So after some movement, I walked over and took his hand and talked to him.  I told him who I was, that he was intubated and they were working to take the tube out.   I asked him to squeeze my hand. Could he squeeze my hand?  He did.  He also nodded his head a few times in response to questions.

He was a quiet man.

I learned to accept what he had to give.

My aha came that next day that I'm continuing to absorb.  As the family had gathered together in the hospital room after he died, we began talking about who he was in order to write the obituary.  He was an outdoorsman on all counts.  Everything revolved around farming, hunting, fishing, trees, etc. There was mention of his deceased sister.  I thought, wow, I really did get her genes.  She and I both moved away from the same small town, married doctors, were more liberal and loved the arts and creativity. I do love the outdoors but I am not inclined to want to trap or shoot what I find and cook it up.

My aha was that even though I never discussed life with my dad, I realized he taught me to be who I am,  no matter what the people around me think or expect.  Even if your daughter begs to get to know you better, you have to be who you are.

I have to be who I am.  It has taken a long time to realize that I can't be at peace with myself trying to be someone who I am not, trying to fit other people's molds or ideals.

I loved my dad and I know he loved me.

Namaste.

Middle School Honors, Home Depot, Dogs and Grief

My daughter's Middle School Honors Program was two days ago.  Ten minutes before I am due to leave to attend, I break down in an ugly cry.  The feelings came swiftly and seemingly out of nowhere and these powerful emotions surprise me, but they were so cathartic.  The thoughts came in my head that I missed my mother in law and wished she was here and how proud she would have been of Riley and bam, the waterworks spewed.

Today would have been GaGa's birthday.  We lost her to nasty, ugly cancer two years ago.  

I miss my mother in law's unconditional love and enthusiasm for my children.  She loved them as if she had given birth to them herself.  As a mother, I wanted to keep that person on my team. 

This relationship with my mother in law didn't start out glorious.  It took the nineteen years I knew her to work through excitement, dread, commonality, and then unconditional love.  I learned how to have boundaries with her, especially while she was dying, and that was the greatest gift of all for this recovering people pleaser.  

Over the weekend, we found cushions that fit in the patio chairs that had come from her apartment.   I had a verklempt moment in the middle of Home Depot when I realized that they would work and they were pretty and we could keep this little part of her around.  

But she IS around.  My inconvenient crying prior to school events is her letting me know she is with us.  I'm sad she never met Annie or Brinkley.  She would have loved those dogs.  For this reformed cat lover, dogs are more active expressions of unconditional love. (and work and love…)  I know she must have been the one to help wear me down to Mallory's pleas  to agree to get the first one.  

And the second one.  

But GaGa, we are done with adding dogs for now!  And as Mallory has given up on begging for a puppy, I will not get a bunny either.   Two dogs, two cats, two kids.  We are brimming with four legged love. 

I know you are with us.  You are still a part of the team.  Happy 82nd Birthday!  Love you and miss you here walking beside us, but I still feel your presence.  

Namaste.

P.S. Riley would like to make mention that she won a merit medal for Science, is on Principal's List for All A's and was recognized by the Duke Tip program which she made me sign her up online which resulted in another trip to the stage to receive a certificate!

What would your obituary say?

I read the recent obituary of a woman who also happened to be a counselor.  There was a line that said she was a lover of God, nature, books and people.

All I could was think how would people describe me?

Whoa.  Food for thought.

Do I live in a manner that says I love God?  Or nature or books or people because all of those happen to be on my list as well.  Do I reflect how much I love my husband and daughters?   My other loves are the arts: music, movies, and theatre.  I love connecting with people.  I love the fact that I can now embrace crying, laughing and vulnerability whole-heartedly!!  I love writing this blog.  I love every hard earned aha that comes my way.



I have come to understand over the last four years how I have lived in a manner for 40 years that reflected how very fearful of life that I was.  My forties started a trek of learning what LOVE is.  It takes time to build those new proteins up in the brain though.   I do hope to progressively demonstrate God's love to those around me.   I know I spent a long time having loving thoughts in my head that never came out because I didn't know how.
I'm glad I read this particular obituary.  It was a wake up call.

Saying Goodbye to GaGa

Where do I start? After several days of knowing the end was coming, GaGa took her last breath here on earth. It happened sometime Sunday afternoon and I arrived shortly after because she was still warm. Two nurses and I walked in the room at about the same time when we realized she looked different and then a pulse could not be found.

This is the kind of memory that will be seared in my brain forever. I called my husband, who was at home with his sister, her husband and Mallory and they jumped in their cars. I had just dropped Riley off at church and one of my pastors was already on her way but not knowing she had just passed. Reverend Susie arrived and said this is a precious time, said a prayer over Mary and gave comfort. I could have not asked for a better planned scenario.

Even when you know the end is coming, it is still surprising. It is final and her spirit as departed. We had a lovely service at our church which Mary had joined as an associate member when she moved here several years ago. She had attended our church until she started feeling bad which was 2 years ago and she didn't like people to see her looking bad. I brought her one last time to a smaller noon service in our chapel about 6 months ago and I don't know if it helped her, but it helped me.

Of course, I question how I'm feeling with her death. In the past my feelings would equate with how I was doing. My feelings ruled me. Now I know feelings just are, they occur and we can choose to do what we want with them. Now I experience feelings, examine them, am curious and kind with myself and let them go through. Under my old life perspective, I would have thought I would crumble, fall apart upon this death. She was a very important member of our family, but I find that I am much stronger than I ever realized. I have not really cried that much yet I grieved so much before she left because she was not herself for so long before her soul actually departed from us. I have sadness, but also relief that her suffering is over, our care taking is done. There is still business and mourning at hand. We still have another memorial service and burial in her home church, and this will occur in Coaldale, Pennsylvania next weekend. I am turning it into our great Pennsylvania adventure for the girls and for me. We will say our final goodbye to GaGa.

Why all the Anger?

The kids are out of school so I have not had many cohesive thoughts this week, the ones I've had are intertwined with the Disney channel and requests to get out of the house. There is one idea I have been wrapping my brain around again and again and it is, what is this anger that keeps popping up?

When I am not with my mother in law, I have many anger feelings directed towards her, which then makes me feel guilty. She's dying for gosh sakes and has been for close to two years. Being one of only two active participants in the same house overseeing her care week after week has been quite the journey.  I have watched her lose weight bit by excruciating bit to uncover bones, as well as writhe in pain, suffer with anxiety, lose the ability to dial, and then answer a phone as well as work a television remote. And she found fault with the phone and the tv week after week. She has lost the ability to walk, speak coherently which she is aware of, to stand, and now to eat on her own. This is a lot of loss and I have no control over it. Maybe that is some of the anger. Watching someone die is the ultimate loss of control and this is between her will which is very strong and God. She is fighting tooth and nail to live while what I see is such a massive loss of quality of life.

I struggle because for the last few years I have been cultivating a new relationship with how I experience feelings when they arise, especially those that are uncomfortable. Now, I want to be curious about them, not scared and panicked as I have been but lovingly acknowledge them and allow them through instead of blocking them, and pushing them down, and then stuffing myself with food. But these anger feelings keep coming up again and again?

It finally dawned on me that I'm not mad at her for what I think I am. Anger is the ego blocking our need to work on an issue within ourselves.  After I visit with her, and the armor that I have to put on to do so comes down, I grieve. While she is still alive through this prolonged terminal illness, I have lost all of the person she was. There are no characteristics left of who she once was. She is somewhere between living and the great mystery. She doesn't look like the same person. There is no warmth, no smile, no conversation. She cannot express her fierce love for my offspring. We can't laugh or joke anymore and all of this has disappeared over time and now in the last weeks, communication has diminished to me guessing what she is trying to say. She use to come to our house often on the weekends and spend the night. She was our clutch babysitter. She sat on the floor and played with the girls and engaged with them actively. She crawled into the crib when Riley was young. She went on vacations with us. She even did my laundry and dishes and enjoyed doing so!!! And she was an ally, we talked about important issues in my life and did so by agreeing to disagree if need be.  I needed to learn how to agree to disagree.  This was huge for me. I, the people pleaser, with what felt like no voice growing up, could have a conversation with appropriate boundaries. And now week after week, I see that person disappearing.

I now know that perhaps the anger is she is leaving us.

Each and Every Time

I run into fairly friendly acquaintances and they ask "What have you been up to?" And I try to explain what I have been doing with my time. This is how it goes:

Me: "My mother in law has cancer and it has been very stressful."

Other Person:"Oh, does she live with you?"

Me: "No."

Other Person: "Oh, so you go and see her every day."

Me: "No."

How do you explain a year's worth of being the guardian of a parent, and then becoming their parent?

(And I know that most people just want me to say that I'm fine and they don't want a description and I get that) But sometimes I have to justify (to myself) why I feel so exhausted and worn out.

It is the ups and downs, mostly down, never knowing what is going to happen from month to month, sometimes week to week, and sometimes day to day. And of the challenges and wondering when is "it" going to happen? Watching someone descend into a miserable, painful state of being and yet they are still alive and can remain in the miserable way for an extended period of time.

I thought of how to explain it today.

We have invited GaGa over for lunch tomorrow. She has not been to our house in a while. And a certain level of dread starts to set in. How are things going to go between she and the girls? How much pain is she going to be in? How much thinner is she going to look? How much sense is she going to make as her words don't come to her anymore? Will I have to cut her food like I did last time and then ignore that she is not eating because she has no appetite? Is she going to smile, just once? There is a level of tension so high that it takes a chainsaw to cut through.

It hit me that the description of the "What are you up to?" stress is that when I look at GaGa's frail, shrinking, pained self is that I'm looking at death. I'm not trying to be melodramatic because this is the way it is...

Each and every time I see her.

Every time I talk to her.

Every time I think about her.

Death is always in the back of my mind.

This is not the normal stress of everyday living.

Months ago, when my therapist said she is halfway between life and death, I continue to understand it on deeper and deeper levels. I wonder how much more I have to learn because it keeps coming whether I like it or not. Yet the more I embrace it and examine it, I see God making me stronger. I see little signs, people put in my path that make me smile for a just a moment. And those moments feels oh so sweet.