Being Thankful

 Being Thankful

First and foremost. I Melissa, aka Mel am fine – okay slight fib, how about this?  I am “getting there.”

Let’s be honest, this is tough going. Surviving and living after the death of a spouse. I digress…

I’d mentioned in a post on my Facebook page that I’d had a hugely profound moment the other day while sitting in the Birds room (I have two adult Blue and Gold Macaws). I don’t remember what I was watching or listening to or thinking, but it hit me suddenly that I, big bold letter I, am doing “it”.

It being life, It being living, It being acknowledging, It being surviving. It being “being okay” and having moments from time to time out of the blue; driving, showering, cooking, sleeping, watching tv, shopping, taking a walk, exercising, cleaning, sitting in your parent’s kitchen visiting, talking on the phone with a friend, peeing, etc.

It hit me that with all the events of the past year and now the almost six months after, that I do have the strength and backing I’d not thought I would have. I apologized lamely to my Mum for crying while I was sitting on a chair in her kitchen yesterday. Her response, ‘You went through a huge event and it’s all still so fresh. It’s going to happen. It’s okay.’

I made the trek home yesterday, the 26^th of November to see both families for the first time since last Thanksgiving, Brandon’s last Thanksgiving.

Last Thanksgiving was the first AND last time we’d been up there to see folks in two years for a few very big reasons, Covid and well, Brandon’s cancer diagnosis. It was simply too much and too far of a drive for him with his diagnosis. And he was in the hospital for Christmas and then again at New Years with a heart surgery and complications from it and his cancer, so a traditional family gathering wasn’t possible.

I had been home for a brief visit to see my parents back in September; They’d both had some things going on and I needed to be home to see them. I needed to be home for them and for me. A year is an awfully long time to not see family, especially with numerous heavy things happening in this thing called life.

The two visits, the one in September and one to see both families, mine and Brandon’s yesterday were both very poignant. They gave me realizations of things that I know deep inside, yet still question unnecessarily.

Life is so so short, yet so full of everything possible. Family does matter and sometimes family is not always through blood relations, but through people who want to be in your life and are. They are the people who accept you as the person YOU are; the people who love you and would do anything for you to see you happy.

I have both and for that, my heart is full and happy, and I am thankful more than I can say or express.

Life IS good.

Rainy Evenings and a lament on life.

It is late on a Saturday night and raining outside. There is a chill in the air, and I am sitting here with a nice glass of red wine to drink and a big fluffy robe on to keep me warm. I'm winding down from the day; no I'm winding down from the week. Maybe it is the entire year...I don't know anymore. It's all a big, knotted mess, all intertwined and hard to discern what is what and which end is up. 

Fake fireplace is running to ward off the chill here in my bedroom. Real fireplace out in the living room, although ready to go is a bit much now for me...smoke, ashes afterwards and the smoky smell to contend with. These days, it is a bit much, maybe it’s my age. I threw an extra blanket on the bed "just in case". 

The babies, my pups are all snugged up, two in my big bed and two in their own bed at the end of my bed. They are all covered up and hunkered down for the night. Soon, I will follow their lead.

Earlier in the day, I did some "yard gym". I raked leaves, pulled weeds and ivy that's grown rampant along the edge of the house I live in. I got a dead branch down from a huge oak in front of the house. Trimmed some branches and did some basic yard clean-up. I eventually lit a fire and burned debris I'd raked and gathered; the weeds, some of the leaves, the branches, the sticks, etc., that I'd picked up and enjoyed the warmth and crackle the fire produced. I also took chunks of wood that were rotting that had been previously gathered and stacked and tossed them one by one into the flames. Watching as they faded into ash, I had a few moments to think about things and how fast time goes. 

It is amazing how fast time flies. I look back at events of this past year and am blown away at how much life has changed, at how much I am changed. I feel harder, tougher, but at the same time, so weak, so vulnerable and alone. 

I had dinner this evening with friends who chanced by at the same time I was standing outside with my dogs while my fire was burning, and I was throwing things in it. They invited me and I said yes. 

It was good to get out and away from everything.

While we were sitting together eating, I lamented on how fucked up life is and how fast stuff goes and how weird it was (is?) that nothing is the same. I felt kind of sad but also kind of distant from it all at the same time. 

I feel disassociated with everything but am also very in tune to all that is going on all at the same time. It is all a lot of feelings, thoughts, and memories that blend and meld into this weird lump of sticky goo that you cannot escape from no matter how hard you try. 

I have begun reaching outside of my comfort zone to try and make some sense of me, trying to figure out my future. I have started looking at different locales to maybe rediscover who I am. Will it require that I leave my comfort zone? yes. Will it require that I move? perhaps. 

I have been looking at real estate in other states. I can work anywhere. Can I make a move? Yes. I do think I could...Should I? Perhaps. It could give me the push to become the person I SHOULD be, now that so much has changed in the last year. 

I have a chunk of land to move to if I desire, as well. 

Do I want to move? Not particularly, but I am it, here. Except for a couple friends, I am all alone here. 

I grew up moving, so I am used to it. It is not easy, but it is doable. Would I miss my local friends? More than I could say. But.... This house I am in is built for more than me, for a bigger family than what I have right now. Right now, it is me and my dogs and big blue chickens and my new to me kitteh, Frank and the sometimes cat who frequents my deck and back yard, Stevie. That is not enough to fill this space. 

I am torn, do I? should I? Could I? 

Things to think about and seriously. 

Just a Dog?

How?

How can it be that one could be faced with yet another tsunami and stay afloat.

Oof.

No, the wave is not as big as the one in June of this year, but it is devastating, nonetheless.

Times like this, being faced with yet another huge storm makes me feel absolutely desperate. Desperate to want to fight like hell, yet also desperate to just lie down and let the waves carry me away. Yes, that sounds utterly dramatic and it may be. But I’m also desperate enough to want to scream about how unfair it is, but also desperate to not look like a crazy person.

I had a rough afternoon yesterday after talking to my vet about her findings. But, let me say this...

One may say, but it’s just a dog.

Just a dog?

Yes, she is a dog, however, that dog is also a family member. She is a little creature that has feelings, thoughts, makes decisions (not always good ones, like hey, this waterer is almost empty, I want it full and proceeds to paw it enough to dump it and the remaining water over - every.single.time), she expresses happiness, she farts a lot, pees a lot, barks out-loud while she’s sleeping, exasperates the shit out of me sometimes, makes me laugh, makes me cry, is so forgiving...she was so scared when I drove to Memphis to adopt her at being taken from her familiar surroundings there at the shelter. At some point in our long drive, she absolutely melted into the bed I’d brought with me for her to ride in toward her new home with us. At that point, I knew she was ours and we were hers. Now, she’s mine but she’s still a pup that WE earlier in the year “shared” as one of our hairy kiddos. And, soon, she too will be "leaving". 

She’s my Poser Bear, Posey Adele, Po-Po, Poppers, Poe-pers or Pop-pulls (as phonetically "correct" as I can make it using this alphabet/letters available), Posers, and my little Poosha. My little senior lumpy Italian Greyhound.

The idea that she’s sick and has limited time left with me hurts so much that my mood and thoughts match the dreary day outside on this 15^th of November.

Hug your hairy kiddos tonight for me, for Posey...for everyone and anyone who has lost or is losing one of their family. 

Dog formerly known as Cyclone, aka Veronica and at some point interestingly enough, had also been named Sophie. Now known as Posey.