JJ - I think you put that perfectly - things soften with time --

Vi - if you could find some support sites for your mom on the net -- maybe she would start to get interested in her computer. It is very frustrating to try to help someone when they don't seem to accept the help -- but you may be surprised what she does when no one is around -- especially if she has a few sites in her "favorites" so she can just "click" on them. Be patient with her -- even though she may not treat you this way -- you're the child she's depending on right now.

I feel soooooo bad for Dan -- and the rest of you of course, but losing a mate -- as you know -- is different -- in the way that no one else is going through the same emotions. You can relate with your brothers/sisters about the loss of a brother/sister -- or parents can relate to the loss of a child -- kids to a parent -- but a spouse is all alone with that feeling -- there was only one spouse -- you share every aspect of your life with your spouse -- and it leaves such an emptiness when one leaves and one stays behind.

You're so right about the training going out the window sometimes -- but I think you did exactly what you should have -- you were there and you made him feel comfortable and he was able to just "share" for a little bit that day -- I'm sure you were a great comfort for him.

and hopefully -- with you thinking about your mom and Dan -- and knowing you're "doing something" it will help ease your pain a little too

(((((((((( hugs ))))))))))

JJ, yes, softened edges would be good. I know it will come. Mostly I'm okay. I feel so bad for Dan. For me it's a matter of how my world has changed, not that I can't stand the pain. It's the honor and integrity a whole generation represented, that is being lost. My sister was not of that generation, but she held on to some of its basic tenets. In the last 5 years so many of my parents generatons have died.

Lionspaaw,yes, once we can get Mom onto the Net it should help. First we have to make her computer literate. The other day we were showing her how she had to hold the mouse for it to work right. She just didn't get it. So the next time we go down, there will be more basic lessons. She had my old computer years ago, but she's forgotten everything she knew. Part of it is mild dementia. Part of it is selective, convenient amnesia. It's my job to distinguish the difference. If I do everything for her, it will make her less able to do for herself. She does not want to live with me. She does not want to go into a home. So my goal is to keep her at home as long as I can. She has good people at her church who also help her. I'm grateful to them. She was a good mother to me. I love her. I will make sure her needs are met as best I can.

Yes, Dan is alone with the pain. I remember how it was...but for him the time he spent with Anita was his entire adult life. He has to learn how to be alone and be okay with it. I think that's the worst of it for me, knowing there's so little I can do to help him. I can't wave a wand and make him all better. The thing is, I've always wanted to fix everybody. And I just can't. That's part of my frustration - part of what I have to learn.

When there are losses like this with my family and loved ones, it brings the world situation front and center. I think about the people who are out there killing people on purpose, causing others to experience this kind of loss and pain on purpose. It reinforces the reason for my life - to promote kindness and peace.

Do any of you know about a woman who went by the name of Peace Pilgrim? Her name was Mildred Norman. She gave up her way of life, and all of her possesions and walked back and forth across this country promoting peace, first inner, then outer. Wonderful woman. In my book she deserves the same kind of respect for her life's work as Martin Luther King. Peace Pilgrim did what she did in a more humble kind of way. Love the woman, although by the time I heard of her, she was already deceased. A website set up by Friends of Peace Pilgrim is: http://www.peacepilgrim.org/

Thanks again for all your support.
Vi

Dan and the Bear

For the first time Dan took his travel trailer to his and Anita's favorite camping site at the beach. He spent his time walking next to the water, 5-6 miles a day, laying on his belly in the sand gathering agates, making peace with the place the two of them had loved so much. On the weekend his granddaughter and her two small children joined them.

One day he was walking on a trail. Suddenly 50 feet in front of him was an adult black bear on all fours. He looked at the bear, and the bear looked at him. Dan asssesed the situation, looking around for cubs - nothing like an angry mamma bear. He didn't spot any. Thinking the bear needed the trail more than he did, he did not panic, he just backed away and took another route.

On the trail of his life with Anita, Dan found a bear on the trail. He did not panic. He assesed the situation and did what he could. When he realized Anita needed the trail ahead, unable to walk forward with her, he took another route. He is surviving. God bless him.

Vi

You have a beautiful way with words and your thoughts are awesome and healing. I appreciate your peaceful mind. You're a blessing.

Last year, my cousin was on his way to say good bye to my uncle, his father, who was dying, when he suddenly started screaming and clutching his stomach. His wife had to take over the driving and find the nearest hospital. It was pancreatis (sp) so they put him in a drug induced coma, trying to heal him. My uncle was supposed to die within days but for some reason hung on for five more months. They both died in the same week. How my aunt got through this is beyond me. Losing her husband and son in the same week. 1200 people came to my cousin's funeral. Unbelievable. He was so well loved. And 500 came to my uncle's funeral. It seemed to help the entire family knowing they had made an impact on so many people.

[ August 13, 2005, 10:40 AM: Message edited by: Dianne ]

Vi, you need to write a book of reflections of sickness and death. Your perspective is amazing.

I've thought of you. My sister is away on a ten day vacation and I miss her so much. We talk daily when she's in town. This is probably a sick thought, but I've wondered what I'd do if she wasn't around at all. I think I'd need a page out of your book. How are you managing your grief? Please share.

Dianne, I don't know how people get through multiple losses, except maybe to go numb for a while. Then thaw out a little at a time when they are better able to deal with it. It does help to have lots of people come to a service. When I was sixteen a girlfriend, Denise, died suddenly in a diabetic coma. No one knew she was diabetic. 3 people besides her grandparents came to the grave side service. I was one of them. Denise was probably the sweetest person I've ever met. Yet, her father had beaten her. That's why she was staying with her grandparents. She had had polio, so one arm just hung there. She taught me about smiles. She had a wonderful smile. The world was a lesser place without her.

Dotsie and Dianne, thank you for your words about my ability to express myself. Dotsie, since you mentioned me writing a book about reflections on sickness and death, I've been thinking about it, wondering what I could possibly add to the body of wonderful work that is already out there, written by people much more qualified than I. Then I got to thinking about the fact that I will be finished with the current novel I'm writing by Jan. 2006. After that I plan to start what I call my old lady story/novel. This would be an excellent book to incorporate insights on illness and death. Because if one lives to be very old, one can't avoid dealing with ongoing multiple losses. So that's what I will do. I prefer writing novels, because in novels one can give one's opinion, but it's not so in your face. I mean, the writer is not saying, this is the truth according me. The author is saying, here's a story, I hope you enjoy it.

As for the grief - I'm okay, I guess. I've been seeing my sister's face in my mind, not of her in her older years, but when she was a teenager. Her freckle-face smile, her wavy auburn hair with the pageboy haircut and short bangs. I've been thinking I will never get to take her Nashville and the Grand Old Opry like I wanted to do when my books become bestsellers. She so wanted to go someday. And I've been thinking that she and I will never be little old ladies together. I will probably live to be very old. A lot of people in my family do. I may have 30 to 40 years without her. My aunt Lottie lived 40 years without her older sister, Mabel, my grandmother. Oh, I understand why. Aunt Lottie took far better care of herself on all kinds of levels. But that meant she lived all those years without her older sister.

There is so much to learn on the many facets of this gem we call death. I think about how much each person teaches another with their life and their death. We teach each other, even when that was not our conscious intention. And I love learning it, I do. It makes me a nicer person. And in the long run, I so like what I have learned/am learning and who I have become. But I hate it, too, not hate in the sense that there is anyone or thing to despise, but hate in the sense of, I sure don't like the pain and the loss and the rearrangement of my life.

So how am I really? The loss is there, and it is more fodder for the writer in me. All in all, it is a good thing - which is what it was design to be or so it seems to me.

Vi

I am so amazed at the wonderful truths and words of comfort here in this thread.

I've been away for a while ... partially because our internet costs really skyrocketed, partially because of some healing I was experiencing, and partially because of some technical problems (now resolved, Dotsie, lol).

All these words and expressions of love and compassion are such a comfort and so validating for some of the healing I've been experiencing lately.

Vi ... I totally agree with Dotsie ... your words are so touching and so REAL. Others would be so blessed by the things you are learning and how you are expressing them.

I've come to realize one thing over these past weeks ... when we take the focus off ourselves, we tend to learn the most. For me, it means putting my focus on God. He's doing some remarkable things in my life and I can only be thankful for what I'm learning.

You ladies have some of the most powerful messages I've read ... and the wonder of it all is that THIS IS REAL here ... in these forums and on this website. I guess I've gotten so dissatisfied with the roles people try to play rather than just being themselves. And the irony (that might not be a good word) is that I too am coming to the realization that I can let go of my abuse and move on. I don't need to examine it in order to figure out what I "thought" was wrong with me.

Instead, I can look outward for a change and find a garden of beauty ... most specifically here on this site.

Thank you. And Vi -- you are an awesome inspiration. Thank you for making yourself vulnerable to us.

Blessings, Francine

Dear Francine,

I'm so glad you've decided to let go of/move on from the negative effects of the abuse. That's a big step. I'm so pleased for you. Yea!!!

As for being real and people being in roles and hiding behind masks, when my brother murdered his neighbors I realized I had no energy to maintain a mask. I was just who I was and if somebody didn't like me, they could go somewhere else. I realized that so much time is wasted, when we are responding to what someone wants us to think, rather than what is real. No wonder we have difficulties fixing things or ourselves.

My love is with you as you walk the road to recovery.

Vi

I find myself in a stage of licking my wounds. Not that the pain is bad or anything. I'm not in the mood to contact my family unless I have to - I will provide for Mom, though. I just want to sit with my own adjustment. To do otherwise at this time makes me feel annoyed, even though just to say that makes me feel selfish. But I'm being honest. This is about honesty for me.

Vi, I can relate so well to that "licking my wounds" description. And to not wanting to contact anyone...needing alone time to get used to that new empty space within me. It was like a toothache that the tongue can't stop touching, I had to explore all the nuances of my anguish, sit in my orphanhood and figure out how to carry on from here.

I think it's a normal facet of grief for some of us "profound feelers" to retreat for awhile. A necessary hibernation in order to come to terms with our new emptiness. My grief may have gone beyond normal, but my grief was exacerbated by work-related burnout and subsequent spiral into depression.