Whatever Will Be Will Be

As hard as it is to believe another March is here. It seems the older I get the faster this month comes back around. This will be the fourth year since Eddie's death. This entire month is always difficult but the week of March 13-20 is especially hard. I've made up my mind though that this year I'm not going to dwell on the negative. I'm going to do what I can to remember the good, and I plan to keep myself as busy as possible throughout the month. I started on a positive note by spending last evening talking to a good friend for several hours. Throughout our conversation I was pleasantly surprised at how often I was able to mention Eddie without it making me sad. I've already made plans to spend this coming weekend with friends from South Georgia, and we're also going to see Elton John in concert March 20th. I know none of this will stop me from remembering what happened, but I've learned that surrounding myself with friends and activity is the best way to get through the hard times.

I've thought a great deal recently about where I've been, where I am now, and where I'm going with my life. I guess I've developed a somewhat matter-of-fact attitude and am slowly but surely making decisions and moving ahead. I don't like what happened, but I've had to accept that it did happen. I may not like the changes Eddie's death forced me to make, but I've made them just the same. I've learned that no amount of looking back or wishing can undo the events of the past, so I may as well look ahead and focus on the future. I accomplished my goal of completing my specialist's degree - now I need a new venture to devote my extra time and energy to. I haven't decided yet exactly what that will be, though I am considering several things. For now I will concentrate on the things I already have in my life - my family, my friends, my job, my personal relationships - and I'll approach my future the same way I'm dealing with my past - by accepting that I can't force things to turn out the way I want them to. Like the old Doris Day song says "Que Sera, Sera, whatever will be, will be, the future's not ours, to see." 

Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow
by Helen Steiner Rice

"Yesterday's dead, tomorrow's unborn
So there's nothing to fear and nothing to mourn,
For all that is past and all that has been
Can never return to be lived once again.
And what lies ahead, or the things that will be,
Are still in God's hands, so it is not up to me
To live in the future that is God's great unknown,
For the past and the present God claims for His own.
So all I need do is to live for today
And trust God to show me the truth and the way,
For it's only the memory of things that have been
And expecting tomorrow to bring trouble again
That fills my today, which God wants to bless,
With uncertain fears and borrowed distress.
For all I need live for is this one little minute,
For life's here and now and eternity's in it."

Opening the Door

I read back over my last two posts and noticed how drastically different my attitude and emotions were from one to the next.  While it's true that I'm still on a roller coaster when it comes to my feelings, I can honestly say there are many more highs than lows now.  I may have periods when I get down and even a little depressed, but these are few and far between compared to four years ago.  I've accepted what happened in my life and adjusted to the changes it caused.  Now I'm at a point where I feel like it's time for some changes of my own choosing.  The problem is I'm not sure what it is I want to change.  I love my family, friends, and my children at school, but I have to wonder ... Am I ready for a different job?  Do I want a new house?  Do I need to move to a new town so I can have a fresh start?  It could be one of these.  It could be all of these.  It could be none of these.  I haven't figured that out yet.  I just know I feel the need for change.

I've also been contemplating whether it's time to change my attitude about the possibility of a relationship in my life one day.  Sometimes I think I'm ready and want that again, but as soon as the thought enters my mind I get scared and slam the door shut on the idea.  I've had people tell me the only way to find out is to take the chance.  Others have told me it's not worth the risk.  I value the advice of my family and friends and respect everyone's right to their own opinion.  But I know ultimately I am the only one who can make these decisions, and hopefully I'll recognize if and when the time is right.  I came across a poem recently by Shel Silverstein that seemed to reinforce my thinking ...

"There is a voice inside you
That whispers all day long,
'I feel that this is right for me,
I know that this is wrong.'
No teacher, preacher, parent, friend,
Or wise man can decide
What's right for you -
Just listen to the voice that speaks inside."

I've been told by others that I think too much - that I overanalyze everything I say and do - and maybe they're right.  Sometimes I wish I could be a little more spontaneous, even a little bit of a risk-taker.  When Trey graduated from high school I gave him a cd of Lee Ann Womack's I Hope You Dance.  I told him that was my wish for him as he began his adult life.  I've listened to that song again and wonder if now it's time for me to apply the words to myself ... "I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance; never settle for the path of least resistance.  Living might be a chance but it's worth taking.  Loving might be a mistake but it's worth making.  When you get the choice to sit it out or dance - I hope you dance." 

I know this isn't the time of year to make any major decisions, so I'm not planning to do anything right now.  It's even possible that some or all of these feelings will go away in time, though I really doubt they will.  In the meantime, I'll keep trying to figure things out and work on slowly opening my doors just a little.

"Each and every day is a given choice.  To start over, move forward, or change directions all you have to do is decide." ~author unknown

I Hope You Dance video
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y2SfmcNg8js

It's That Time of Year

Four years ago this month my mother went into the hospital for what was supposed to be a routine appendectomy.  She came out with a diagnosis of cancer.  Six weeks after her diagnosis, following a long battle with alcoholism, my husband took his own life.  To say this is not my favorite time of year is putting it mildly.  I prepare myself as much as possible for these upcoming anniversaires each year.  I try to stay busy and focused on other things.  But the thoughts are always there lingering in the back of my mind, and I know they will eventually come forward.  Sometimes I can tell when they are about to surface, so I do what I can to brace myself.  But at other times they come crashing in without warning and knock me for a loop.  That's exactly what happened this past weekend.  Things were going along very smoothly, and I thought this year was going to be different, maybe even easier.  I couldn't have been more wrong.  Without warning, all of the memories and feelings associated with this time of year hit and hit hard.  I have no idea what caused them.  Was it a song on the radio or a picture I came across?  Was it a sound or a smell?  Was it a trip to the gym or to a particular restaurant?  Was it something someone said?  I have no idea.  I just know it happened, and this time I wasn't prepared. 

Although I wasn't prepared for this to hit when it did, I at least recognized it for what it was - a "grief spasm" - which I have written about before.  According to the book Experiencing Grief by H. Norman Wright a grief spasm is "a normal, sudden, unexpected, upsurge of the emotion grief," and the best way to handle this out-of-control feeling is to "acknowledge it and wait for it to end."  I'm not sure how well I handled it this time, but at least I didn't go completely off the deep end.  I'm sure I said some things I shouldn't have said, did some things I shouldn't have done, went out when I should have stayed home, stayed home when I should have gone out, spent too much time alone, or spent too little time alone ... who knows ... there is no right way to handle it.  All I know is that as quickly and unexpectedly as it hit, it ended in much the same way.  For almost three days I felt as if I had gone back in time to when this all started.  I questioned everything and everybody in my life.  At one point I wanted nothing more than to pack up and run away so the memories couldn't find me.  I even went so far as to tell my son that I wanted to move someplace new where I could start my life over.  I didn't do anything drastic though, and on the third night it was as if someone flipped a switch, and I was okay again.

I doubt very seriously this was the only one of these episodes I'll have this time around.  After all, I still have the anniversary of the events in March to go through.  I can hope though that maybe it just came early this year and won't come again.  If it doesn't I'll be extremely grateful.  But if it does I know I'll get through it just as I have every time before.  And in the meantime, I'll try not to drive others crazy, scare anyone with my wild ideas, or run off to another country to live!

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do." ~Eleanor Roosevelt

Life is Too Short

I was coming home from a weekend trip recently and couldn't find any decent stations on the radio.  I put in several CD's that I had in the car and listened to them while I drove.  They were all older CD's, so I'd heard them dozens of times before.  This time though the words to several of the songs caught my attention, and I really listened to them for the first time.  Three in particular seemed to be sending me a message ... I Breathe In, I Breathe Out by Chris Cagle, Days Like These by Jason Aldean, and Tim McGraw's My Next Thirty Years. 

Chris Cagle's song describes perfectly how I lived for a long time after Eddie's death ... "Until this world stops turning round and my heart believes that you've gone, I breathe in and breathe out, put one foot in front of the other, take one day at a time ..."  I'm not sure at what point I stopped living this way.  I just know that I did.  It hasn't been easy, but going on with my life isn't the daily struggle that it once was.  I breathe easier now and don't think about every move before I make it.  I make plans days, weeks, even months in advance and look forward to them.  I'm gradually starting to enjoy life again, and what's even more important is I'm accepting that it's okay for me to!  I actually believe now it's what Eddie would have wanted.

I know from my own experience the words to Days Like These are truer than most people realize ... "Life is short."  Because I know this I've decided I should take more of that song to heart ... "Life is short, let's go live it, ain't no time for wasting time, days like these they go by way too fast, days like these you wanna make them last."  I've always been a very serious, cautious, responsible, schedule-oriented person.  I've always done what was expected of me and tried to please others before myself.  While I don't intend to become selfish, careless, or irresponsible, I am making an attempt to live a happier, more relaxed life.  I want to laugh more, travel more, have fun, and maybe even do things on a the spur of the moment once in a while (although that last one may prove to be difficult for me).

At 51 years old many people may not think they have 30 years of life left.  But with the longevity on my mother's side (my grandmother is 97 and going strong) I truly believe I'll be around for at least that much longer!  With that in mind I'm going to apply My Next Thirty Years to my future ... "Now it's time to focus in on where I go from here ... My next thirty years I'm gonna have some fun ... Cry a little less, laugh a little more ... Figure out just what I'm doing here ... "  I don't know for sure what I'm going to do with the rest of my life, and I may not know exactly how much time I have left, but I do know that despite how I felt four years ago my life isn't over.  I plan to make the most of my future and not have any regrets ... "My next thirty years will be the best years of my life ..."

"As you grow older, you'll find the only things you regret are the things you didn't do." ~Zachary Scott 

Don't Hold On Too Tightly

I expect to get advice and receive inspiration from counselors, preachers, poems, books and quotes from famous people. I don't usually expect to get it from television shows though, but that's exactly what happened recently. While watching a rerun of Law and Order - not exactly a show where you expect anything profound or inspirational - I heard something that made me stop and think. A woman visiting her husband's killer in prison told him she had to find a way to forgive him for what he had done, because if she continued to fixate on him and what he took away from her she would slowly lose herself. That statement at the conclusion of the show made me examine what I'm doing and how I've handled things since Eddie died. I know I've made great strides in moving forward with my life. I love my family and my job, and they both keep me very busy. I finished my specialist's degree which was a huge relief and an accomplishment that I'm proud of. I enjoy spending time with my friends and am thankful that I've reconnected with some old friends and even made some new ones. I made it through this last holiday season with the least amount of sadness I've felt since Eddie's death. On the outside all of these are good, positive things and signs of moving forward.

But now I think it's time for me to focus on moving forward from the inside. While I don't believe I've fixated on or been obsessed with Eddie's death, I do know his alcoholism and subsequent suicide had a profound effect on how I think and feel. I love and care about my family, friends, and children at school. I experience feelings just like everyone else. I'm happy when good things happen, and I hurt because of the bad. But at the same time I recognize that my heart has become somewhat hardened over the years as a result of what I've been through. I'm guarded and careful about who I open up to and how much I share with others. I've been completely closed to the idea of any real relationship with someone new - because I don't want to allow myself to be hurt again and because a part of me is still connected to Eddie. It's been almost four years since he died, but I'm just beginning to see that I'm still holding on to the bad times that I experienced both before and after his death. Like the David Gates and Bread song, Everything I Own, says "Nobody else could ever know the part of me that can't let go."

The longer I hold on to the negative though, the more of myself I gradually lose. It's time to find a way to get rid of the bad memories while still keeping the good ones. I don't know yet how I will accomplish this; I just know it's time to start trying. After the episode of Law and Order, I took out several photo albums and spent a couple of hours looking at old pictures. I tried to focus on the happy times - birthday parties, vacations, ballgames, graduations. I made a conscience effort to look for pictures with everyone smiling and having a good time. I didn't cry while looking at any of these, and I felt a tiny sense of peace afterwards. It wasn't much, but maybe it was a beginning to softening my heart and opening myself up to new possibilities.

"What we feel, think, and do this moment influences both our present and the future in ways we may never know. Begin. Start right where you are. Consider your possibilities and find inspiration ... to add more meaning and zest to your life." ~Alexandra Stoddard

The Journey Continues

The news yesterday and again this morning (especially on the sports channels) was filled with something that always commands my attention ... another suicide.  This time it was a professional football player who killed his girlfriend and then himself.  Whenever I hear something like this it brings my own experience back to the surface.  I feel for the families because I know exactly what they are going through - the shock and disbelief now and what lies ahead for them - the denial, questions, anger, and guilt.  I know this is something that will stay with them every day for the rest of their lives just as it has stayed with me for the last four years.  While I have made great strides in moving on with my life, not a day goes by that I don't remember and think about what happened.  Even though I know I'll never get any answers, I still ask questions.  It is impossible, at least for me, to understand someone completely giving up the will to live.  Because I don't understand the choice that was made, acceptance has been difficult.

I now know that suicide is a desperate, irrational, irreversible, and extremely selfish act.  It is a traumatic event that changes the lives of those left behind forever.  As a survivor I have learned to adapt while also accepting that nothing will ever be the same.  Holidays, special days, and anniversaries are difficult, no matter how many years have passed.  I still find it hard to attend parties, weddings, and graduations - events that should be happy occasions.  While working to put my life back together I have had to deal with the unfinished business created by Eddie's suicide.  There were disagreements that weren't settled, decisions that weren't made, and words that were left unsaid.  Letting go of those regrets hasn't been an easy thing to do.

I have been forced to take a journey that was not of my choosing.  Along the way I have learned to cope with what happened and to rebuild my life piece by piece.  I have struggled, but I have also found strength I never knew I had.  I've had to accept that I'll never "get over" what happened - I just learn to live with it.  The recovery process is a long, slow test of patience and endurance - one that may never be completely finished.  But I have learned it is possible to survive and to slowly move forward one step at the time.

Prayer of Faith
We trust that beyond absence
there is a presence.
That beyond pain
there can be healing.
That beyond the brokenness
there can be wholeness.
That beyond the anger
there may be peace.
That beyond the hurting
there may be forgiveness.
That beyond the silence
there may be the Word.
That beyond the Word
there may be understanding.
That through understanding
there is love.
~author unknown

The Circle of Life

I thought I had ended my writing about my experience with Eddie, but I realized on a recent trip that I had one more piece of the story to tell.  I attended a reunion a few weeks ago with some friends from junior college that I hadn't seen in over 20 years.  Eddie and I met in college, so I knew the weekend would bring back many memories.  All of the friends I was going to see had not only known Eddie but had also known the two of us as a couple.  Most of us met on Friday night for a wonderful dinner prepared by our friend Jenny. One of the first things I saw upon entering her house was an SGC yearbook lying on the table.  After all of the hellos and hugs were taken care of I was of course drawn to the book.  As I opened it and saw the baseball pictures of Eddie I was reminded of when and how we met...

We were beginning our second year at South Georgia Junior College in Douglas, Georgia.  We both went back a few days before the fall quarter began to serve as peer counselors for incoming freshmen.  Eddie had had knee surgery over the summer and was walking on crutches.  On one of the first evenings back a group of us decided to go to a restaurant across the street from the college.  It was one of those steak places where you go through a line to order then carry your tray to the table.  I hadn't actually met him at the time, but I ended up in line behind Eddie.  Since he was on crutches and couldn't carry a tray I told him to put his things on mine.  I carried the tray to a table where we naturally sat together and began talking.  Little did we know this would be the beginning of a 29 year relationship. 

Our reunion continued on Saturday with a delicious brunch at our friend Janie's house.  Although we spent a great deal of time catching up on each other's lives, the talk always seemed to turn back to our college days.  Everyone had some story they wanted to tell, and almost every conversation began with "do you remember the time...?"  (I have to say a thank you here to my friend Nancy who kept asking me if I was OK and whether we needed to change the conversation.  She was obviously concerned about how I was handling it all.)  We went back to Jenny's house after brunch and spent the afternoon looking at pictures that thankfully Regina had taken, kept, and remembered to bring after all these years.  As I looked at all of the pictures I was taken back in time to each of the events - dances, parties, trips to the beach, hanging out in the dorms.  Some things I remembered vividly, and others I had almost completely forgotten.  The funniest of all was the beach picture my friend Sue and I looked at over and over trying our best to figure out who the people in the picture were ... after several minutes we realized IT WAS US ... Sue with her boyfriend David and me with Eddie.

Saturday night was the "main event" of the reunion.  We had dinner at the Fern Bank which is amazingly in the same place with the same name as when we were in college.  It's now a sports bar/restaurant, but 30 years ago it was THE place to hang out for the college students.  It looks completely different now, but that night I could picture it just as it was back then.  I could remember the music we listened to, who was there, where we danced, where we sat, what we drank, the conversations we had in the bathroom - everything.  The common phrase that kept being repeated that night was "if these walls could talk!"

Sunday morning came all too quickly, and it was suddenly time to leave my friends and head back home.  As I was pulling out of Janie's neighborhood something told me to turn in the opposite direction of what I should have.  I suddenly knew there was one last thing I needed to do before leaving Douglas - I had to go to the college.  As I turned into the gates of SGC I was overwhelmed with the memories and emotions of 30 years ago.  Of course the campus has changed over the years.  Some of the old buildings are gone and new ones are in their place.  But some things were the same.  I could see what used to be the athletic dorm and knew exactly which room had been Eddie's. 

As I drove through the campus, I knew where I was headed - to the baseball field.  It's been updated quite a bit, but it was in the same location.  I stopped the car, got out, and walked to the field.  When I saw the sign it dawned on me that Trey had never seen where his daddy first played college ball.  I felt this was something important for him to know, so I took pictures of the sign and the field and sent them to Trey from my phone.  Then I walked out onto the field.  It was completely silent, and I could feel a light breeze blowing.  I could see the team on the field as they were 30 years ago, and I felt as though Eddie was there with me.  I stood there for several minutes just looking around and remembering.  Then I blew a kiss toward center field, said a quiet good-bye, and walked to the car.  I left knowing going back to the college had been the right thing to do.  I had completed my circle with Eddie by returning to where it had all begun. 

"Some of us fall by the wayside, and some of us soar to the stars
And some of us sail through our troubles, and some have to live with the scars.
There's far too much to take in here, more to find than can ever be found.
But the sun rollin' high through the sapphire sky
Keeps the great and small on the endless round.
In the circle of life, it's the wheel of fortune.
It's the leap by faith. It's the band of hope.
Till, we find our place on the path unwinding,
Yea in the circle - the circle of life."

From "The Circle of Life" by Elton John