December 29, 2016 When You Realize You are Not His Wife And You Have No Say

Yes, I'm still married to Tracy.  This has nothing to do with that.  However, it is something to consider  when thinking about Tracy's mom (god forbid something happen).

This blog is not ragging on anyone, and is only being written because we  are just about through the holiday season and my dreams have been pretty bad for the last couple of weeks.. lots of dreams about Nick or missing Nick.  Actually, for the last 2 nights I have spent my dream time looking for Nick and not finding him.  It has been horrible.    Then today, I re-read my blog from this date last year and the changes that were happening in our home.  And it made me think about this most recent Christmas time.  And it made me think about everything that has happened in between.

Choices made out of strong emotion are not always the best choices or the best worded decisions (even if they were the right decisions).  I have spent the last year trying to preserve my sanity.  I thought the first year of grief would be the hardest, but in reality, the first year was all about shock and the "to do" lists that come with losing a loved one.  The 2nd year of grief is the hardest.  That is when the shock is worn off and the "shit hits the fan".  And in that 2nd year of grief, that is when my family was decimated and shattered and scattered to different parts of the valley.  That is when almost all contact between me and Suzy has been cut off.  I hurt her.  She hurt  me.  And together, we have unfollowed each other and she has blocked me from seeing most posts.  Her sister has unfriended me.  Her mom sticks around (for some reason).  Tom's family has all unfriended me and Tom has blocked me.   I'm not saying these things out of anger.  I am not saying these things to make anyone look bad.  I am just stating the facts as they are.   It is a snapshot of what has happened in the last year.  I wish things were different.  But they aren't.  And honestly, I don't know if they can be.  Why?  Because I was not Nick's wife; I was only his mother.

In the last month and a half I have been reminded of this in a couple of forms, and I guess that is why I am writing this blog.  It's another lesson.. another "coming to terms" I have had to do... and it hurts like hell.  And its something I NEVER thought I would EVER have to think about.  And yes, sometimes, I am insanely jealous of the angels moms who never have to go through this.

When Nick died, I really thought we had agreed that we would scatter his ashes together, but in the mean time, we bought the beautiful urn to keep his remains in.  Suzy kept the urn in her bedroom (when she lived here).  It was understandable from her point of view...she has never slept without him since they had gotten married.  From the other family member's point of view, it was as if they were being excluded from seeing "him".  (even though, all we had to do was ask to go into Suzy's room to be with the urn...but everyone felt awkward because we all knew how Suzy felt about her private space.)  Even right when he died, I told Nate and Omi, "Do not ask for things of Nick's unless Suzy offers.  She may not be ready to let go of things.  As it turns out, Nate and Naomi were given a few things of Nick's and they cherish those things.   In my worry about Suzy (and moving my mom) I never asked for anything for me and Tracy.  Though I was allowed to keep the statue of Sarasvati that Nick kept at his workstation at his lab and Tracy was allowed to keep Nick's tools and tool chest.

When the time came to ask Suzy to move out with her boyfriend, I knew she would be taking the urn and his remains so I asked for some of his ashes so that I could get blown glass art made for each of us so we would always have him with us.  I'm glad I did that...even though months later, I find out that my asking hurt Suzy deeply.  We remember how this happened in different ways, and I am so sorry I hurt Suzy.  All I can say is that I was scared to death of her taking Nick's remains with her and us never seeing "him" again or having anything of his left behind.  In our garage we had boxes of their stuff...we had boxes of HIS stuff.  But when they got married, his stuff became HER stuff.  He became HERS.  And his family.... well we were just his place of origin.  We lost claim to anything of him or his once they got married.    When kids get married, you are so happy for them, you  never once think that at some point before you die, your own child who you gave to another human being in marriage is going to die before you.

So, Nick dies, and Suzy holds all of the cards.  She holds everything of Nick's and we are at her mercy.  As a mom seeing her daughter in love grieve, I didn't want to intrude on that.  As a mom who lost her son, all I wanted to do was to grab onto everything I possibly could..not just for me..but for my remaining children who will have to live the rest of their lives with what memories they have of their brother.  Naomi was only 9 years old when Nick got married and moved away.  That is not a very long time to know a brother...especially when that brother started dating the wife when the little sister was only 6 years old.  Naomi's sun rose and set on Nick.  It just did.  Tracy traveled a bunch when she was little and Nick was everything to her.   Nate looked up to Nick and adored his big brother.  They were just starting to get along again..after the rough tween/teen years.  They were just finding that friendship that brothers find when they become adults.  Nick was Nate's voice of reason.    But everything that was Nick's or reminded us of Nick was held in Suzy's possession..and rightfully/lawfully so.  She was married to him.  She was his next of kin.  We were just his blood family..in the eyes of the law, we didn't matter.

In hind sight, had I known what I know now, at the funeral home, I would have asked that his remains be put into two different urns..one for Suzy and one for us.  Yes, that is a thing and happens.  But I honestly did not think this huge separation was going to happen.

Now 2 years later, Suzy (without talking to us) has started to scatter his ashes.  She memorialized his facebook page, without even talking to us.  She didn't even notify me..she told Tracy to tell me.  There were several times (when she was living with us) that I asked her, "Please if you ever get to a point that you do not want some of Nick's things, please give us "first right of refusal""  She said she would..she promised me.  Now, I'm not so sure that will happen.  And I have no say.  It is completely out of my control.

I *wish* when we were moving her from Florida to Idaho (when she was trying to clear things out) that we would have made room for things she threw out....jeans of his that were so worn out...tshirts that were so worn out and she didn't want to keep.  I wish we had kept those things.  I wish *I* had kept those things.  I would have made a quilt out of those things for me.. for Naomi.. for nate...for Tracy.  Even little scraps would have been better than nothing.  Recently, one of my friends posted a picture from Christmas.  She lost her brother in a plane crash in 2008.  Her mother had saved his rodeo shirts and jeans and cut them out and made each and every person in the family a quilt of their very own with pieces of these beloved memories.  Suzy kept tshirts, but she made her own quilt.  She sent the shirts off to some company; she had to add a couple of her own cause she didn't have enough, but she made this beautiful quilt made of Nick's tshirts.   I wish I had kept the "unkeepables" to be able to make something like that for my children.  Gratefully, Naomi has one of Nick's hippy tshirts and she wears it when she wants to feel him.  She also has his old ratty hippy jacket (that needs a new zipper..she saved it from being thrown away).  she wears it all the time when its cold outside.  Nate has one of Nick's old hippy shirts..it doesn't fit him, and we need to get it framed.  He also has Nick's old guitar that sometimes he plays on...that is amazing. I'm grateful he has those things.  But damn, I wish I had kept the unkeepables.  I would love to have a blanket to wrap myself up with that reminded me of him.  I have the necklace with is ashes.. I have the necklace with his thumbprint, and I wear them when I really need him close to me.

Our close family friend...who is more family than friend.. was just here over Christmas.  We had a long conversation about all of this.  He didn't understand my need for the remains.  He didn't understand what the big deal was with Suzy scattering the ashes without asking us or inviting or even notifying us.  "Nick is gone.  Those ashes aren't him."    We all see and feel things differently.  Feelings are not rational, but they are very personal and valid.

Not having a say in the way your child's remains or his remaining possessions are treated is so very heart breaking.  I am grateful for the things she left behind.  I am grateful for the collage frame of photos from his work at the lab that she left on the wall...pictures from his last years doing the things he loved.  I am grateful for those photos and the words written by his co-workers.

This is stuff you just don't ever think about when you marry your children off.  And why would you?  I am grateful for the "memories" that pop up on my facebook wall that have Nick in them.  Thanks to those memories, I was able to capture a poem he wrote in 2011 and a journal post that we were able to read when he died and put on facebook.  I was able to take those and use his photos as a back drop to create 2 beautiful pictures with his thoughts and words printed forever..... for my children, for the grandparents, for our family friend. We can't wrap ourselves up in those pictures....but we can look at them and read them and hear his voice and see into his soul.  I guess that is going to have to be good enough and I'm grateful for that.

It sucks losing a child.  It sucks having a family shattered.  And it really sucks being at the mercy of someone else when it comes to your child's remains and remaining things.  That is over simplifying it all.

So my message to any of y'all who are marrying off your children.....or have children that one day will be married off......consider this.  Talk with your child.  No matter how young they are, please ask them to write a will.  Please ask them to write down what they want to happen to their remains in case of an unfortunate incident or illness.  Ask them to think about EVERYTHING.... including their clothes that have rips and holes in them.  These are things we never thought about..until its too late.  And when its too late.. emotions run deep and no one thinks straight and feelings get hurt.  Please....even you parents out there who don't have these things in place, get them in place.  You have seen families fight over the silliest of trinkets.  You have seen families destroyed over who gets the antique letter opener.  You know this shit happens.  Do something to prevent it from happening. Do something that will create peace during a time of deep anguish and high emotions.  If you have a facebook account, then please post in the directive when you want it memorialized.  This goes for animals too.  If you pass, who gets your animals?  (No, I am not angry over who got Nick's cat..but I do miss that giant fur ball with a tiny voice.  When Nick died, Tracy and I felt like that cat was an extension of him..Nick loved that cat.)

Anyway.. just some wisdom from the other side of the fence.........

December 23, 2016 The Only Way to Face the Monsters Is With a Friend By Your Side

Tonight, Tracy, Naomi, Michael and I went to see the play Nighttime Survival Guide.  I bought the tickets and I originally thought the play started at 7.  Then I started questioning myself and went to verify.  I saw on the website the shows start at 8.  So I thought, "Okay, doors at 7 show at 8" like all of the burlesque shows and some plays I have been to.  Makes sense.

We decided on dinner at Bardenay and had a lovely dinner with laughs and good food and headed over to the theater.  WE got there at 7:08.. plenty of time to find our seats and get settled.  Except, the show started at 7pm!  It was already going and we weren't allowed in until intermission.  We were welcome to sit in the lobby and listen to the play over the speaker.  That is what we decided to.  I sat close to the speaker, closed my eyes and listened closely.  Such a fun story.  Listening to the play this way reminded me of being a kid and listening to stories on the radio.   I just wished I could see the puppets that I knew were on the stage.  This particular play had humans and well as puppets.  The puppets were "monsters" that were under Vern's bed (that he was afraid of).  I was having a great time experiencing the play in this way.  Then intermission hit.

We found our seats in a nearly empty theater for the closing show.  I saw and heard my friend in different capacities during what was left of the play.  The 2nd "half" was not really the half and was very short.  I was disappointed.  However, we did get to see one of the three puppets, and it was amazing!  (I used to do puppets and even wanted to major in puppetry!)  I was captured in magic world of monsters and a friendship forged all the way across the world via letters, phones and then the internet.  Then like a punch to the gut, I realize this wasn't some cute little innocuous story about kids forming a friendship and monsters under the bed....but about surviving grief or even the thought of losing a father by having a friend by your side.  There is no such thing as "monsters under your bed" but there are monsters in this world.. the kind of monsters that leave you in a ball crying and missing someone you love.  And just like that, my happy magical world came crashing down.. sorta.  Just like that I was confronted with my monster, a car with 4 wheels with an 83 year old woman behind the wheel.  But I also saw the poetry in THIS night.  I saw the poetry in seeing this play with our best friend at our sides... the same man who has been by our sides at the worst times in our lives/marriage.  He has also been here at our best.  As I held Naomi and Tracy's hands, I saw the beauty in all of this and tears fell from my face.

Indeed..the only way to face a monster is with your best friend at your side, and I am very grateful for Michael.  I am grateful for my other friends who have been here through the worst time in my life.  I am grateful for those that remain.

When we left and started talking about the play and the puppets, I felt the spark of magic that theater gives me.  I have always been a theater geek even though I never got to be part of the theater in high school.  I was bit by the bug in church doing musicals and major puppet productions as a child and teen.  I went to college for storytelling.  And now as a burlesque performer, I use that skill to tell stories in my performances (even if no words are ever used).  I think I need to go back to college and get my theater degree.  I have been mulling it over for a couple of years, but the brain injury has been keeping me back.  But tonight, I realized, I would have given my left arm to be able to part of this play with the puppets.  If I go back to school and get my theater degree, then maybe next time there are puppets involved, I can be there!

December 16, 2016 Total Knee Replacement....7 weeks later

Last New Years Eve my left knee (that had already been through 2 knee surgeries) started hurting for some unknown reason.  No matter what I did, it wasn't getting better.  It was only getting worse.  In March I finally gave in to the pain and went to a doctor.  After physical therapy, a steroid shot and "joint juice shots" I had to BEG him to even just do a scope on my knee.  It was still hurting to high heaven.  I could not do deep squats and get up on my own.  It was crazy painful.  Finally he did a scope and came out telling my husband that I had incredibly bad arthritis in my left knee.  6 weeks after that surgery, I was still in pain.  I asked him what the next step was.  He said a knee replacement, but he could not do it.  (I am over simplifying this story.)

Eventually a friend gave me the name of Dr. Nicola for a total knee replacement.  He took one look at my knee and the pain I was in and said, "Your knee is shot.  You need a new one."  It took a while to get it approved.  Finally, October 26, I was able to have a Total Knee Resurfacing (his word to replace replacement).  He practises a quick recovery process.  I knew I would be in pain, but to be perfectly honest, I was not prepared for the kind of pain I was in.  However, that intense pain didn't last long.   But what pain I have had, has lasted pretty long on top of the pain I have been feeling since New Years Even last year.  A year (or nearly a year) is a long time to be in constant pain.  It wears on you emotionally.  And after my knee replacement, those emotions have been kind of all over the place.  There have been times when I have doubted that this knee replacement was the right thing to do.  "Will I always be in pain?"  "Will I ever be able to do deep squats again?"  "Will I ever be able to get on the floor and then back up again without pain?"  It just feels like, even when I am getting better that what I really want is still so far off.

Of course, about the time I feel "hopeless", I have a PT appointment where I kick ass.  Or I have a doctor's appointment where the doctors tell me I am so far ahead of the healing curve that they are thoroughly impressed.  I belong to a closed Facebook group for Total Knee Replacements.  I am not active on there, but sometimes I read things.  Many people have had it so much worse than me.  Bruising has been horrible for them.  The pain has been too intense.  They are 9 months post op and still taking narcotics.  And there is me.....at 6 weeks post op I was wandering around Rochester, New York for hours on end playing tourist, and I was not taking narcotics (except at night when I slept).

Today I went to PT just like usual.  They started with a warm up then did some massaging on my leg then set me lose in the "gym".  The first couple of things they watched me do, but the last 4 exercises they just turned me lose on.  What got me, was the bike at the end.  I had to set it up on my own and I made a mistake.  I set it for level 4.  But what I didn't realize was that I set it for hills and it STARTED at level 4 and went up to level 7 and back down and then back up again.  Holy Moly!  I did it.  It didn't hurt.  It felt amazing.  I talked to my PT after I was all done and asked about how much longer he thought I needed to be there.  He told me that my schedule is changing  now.  I am down to twice a week for 2 weeks then down to once a week for maybe 2 weeks, and then I will be released.  I am so close to graduating from PT.  In January, I will be released from my surgeon.  They say it takes a full 3 months to completely  heal from the surgery I had.  I swear this had been the longest 3 months of my life.  But I am happy it is about over.

After PT, I came home.  It was super snowy and super icy everywhere.  I have been feeling so down lately.  And the best way to get over that kind of feeling is to be of service to other people.  So I pulled out my snow shovel and shoveled not just my drive way and my sidewalks but also the driveways and sidewalks of the neighbors on both sides.  It took a couple of hours, but I did it.  It felt so good to be helping other people.  This shoveling required squats and bending my knees to save my back.  I was able to do it without pain.

I AM getting better.  I AM getting stronger.  I AM beating this knee replacement and making it my .. well... I'm getting better.  LOL.  Just like anything else in life, I will always have to exercise to keep it healthy.

There are still things my muscles have to relearn.....like dancing.  My left knee forgot how to do things like dip down to dance.  That is kind of frustrating.  But it will get there.  I am getting my life back!  Here is to a stronger, happier, healthier me!!!!

December 15, 2016 New York, Christmas Trees and Vacation Hangover

This post may get a little long..just a fair warning.  You might want to grab a warm beverage, your favorite blankey and comfy chair by the fire before you start reading.

Last week, I had the immense pleasure of accompanying my husband on a business trip to Rochester, NY.  I had never been, but from the last time that Tracy went, he had me pretty excited about art museums and amazing historic buildings.  Before going, I did some of my own research and found a few places that I really wanted to visit, like the Susan B. Anthony house and the George Eastman (of Eastman Kodak) house.  Of course, there was the science museum, which is not always my favorite thing, but it was just right across the street from the hotel we were staying in.  And on the weekend with Tracy off, we had planned a trip to Niagra Falls.  It truly was an amazing adventure of a week, and I am incredibly blessed to be able to make such a trip.  

Today while I sat over a lunch table visiting with my friend Brandi, she asked about my trip and I got all excited talking about the Susan B. Anthony house.  Before I went, the only thing I really knew about her was that she was the reason women could vote.  I had no idea just how deeply involved her entire family was in the human rights movement.  I could go on and on about what I learned on that trip about not just her, but also her family, like how her whole family was kicked out of the Quaker church because her family felt so deeply about the abolition of Slavery that even though they were pacifists, her brothers decided the right thing would be to fight in the civil war to free the slaves.  Her sister refused the dream job of school principal because they would not pay her the same as a man; when the man that they hired eventually died, they came back to her and offered her the same wages as a man for the position!  INCREDIBLE!  It wasn't just Susan B. Anthony; it was her entire family!  Her house was modest.  When her sister bought it, and Susan and her mom moved in, it was just a 2 story home.  The three women decided to add a 3rd story as a "work room" for Susan's work.  From that room, they put out a news paper had meetings for the suffragettes and so many other things.  It was incredible and the energy in that room was palpable!  I could feel it.  I could see this room of bustling women fighting for our rights.  I can vote because of her..because of them!   Then back downstairs, on the way out of the house, we stopped in the living room where she was sitting when the policeman came to the door and arrested her for voting in the presidential race for  Ulysses S. Grant.  When the courts decided to "punish her" with something quiet so the publicity would not fuel the fire, she decided to take it upon herself to take her court papers and show them off. She decided to keep fueling the fires so that we women can vote today.  Standing in the room she was arrested in brought tears to my eyes and made me think, "If she was alive today, she would have been standing shoulder to shoulder with me in the Idaho Capital getting arrested for the equal rights of the LGBT".

The other historic house I visited was that of George Eastman, the father of modern day photographer (my words..not theirs).  His story is fascinating.  He came from a life of privilege and was sent to private schools only to find out, when his dad died, that his family was in debt and could not afford his schooling anymore and his mom (in those times) was not allowed to work.  So he came home from school, his mom continued to teach him at home.  He went to work for $3/hr to support his family.  He decided to go into real estate investment in  Santo Domingo and his friend suggested that he take a camera to capture the place on film.  When George carried a 50# back pack filled with camera equipment, chemicals to develop the photos, and a tent to use as a "dark room" he decided that photography was not accessible to the every day person, and that needed to change.  So he set about creating cameras that made taking picture accessible to everyone.  That of course, grew from still life cameras to movie cameras.  This made him a bunch of money and he decided to build a gorgeous home on 10 acres of property on East St in Rochester.  He didn't want the house to burn down so he had the home reinforced with steel and cement.  The home was also use as part of the under ground railroad.  Eastman donated millions of dollars (under pseudonyms so no one would know just how much and who was making the large donations to places like MIT).  Twice a week, every week, he hosted parties in his gorgeous home, whether he was home or not.  The parties happened every week.  When his maid told him that the parties should be stopped because the silver was disappearing.  He simply told her to put out the cheaper flatware, but to continue to host the parties.  His home was beautiful and about 90% of the furnishings were actually furnishings for his home (not replicas).  He had 2 organs in hi home so that his home would always be filled with music; he loved music and art.  When he realized the acoustics in the home were not "perfect", he hired people to literally tear his house in half and move part of it back and add the exact amount of space needed to create the perfect acoustics in his home.  When you look at the outside of his home, you can see where two different kinds of bricks were used for this.  He was never married and never had children of his own but his niece and nephew spent much time there in that home.  And they would run up and down the hallways of the house.  If you opened your heart and really listened, you could stand in the hallways and hear the children giggling while running and playing.  It was magical.  Eastman loved his niece and nephew and would leave them surprise packages beside their beds; the children would wake up to new presents..for no reason at all.  He seemed to be an incredible human being with a huge heart and incredible mind!  It was an honor to walk through his home.

I walked to the University of Rochester Memorial Art Museum which was literally down the street..by a block or 2.. from our hotel.  The sidewalk in front of the museum was a poetry walk.  There were individual bricks with random words or phrases to spark your imagination.  There were also whole poems on the sidewalk.  It was amazing.  This neighborhood was also known NOTA "Neighborhood of the Arts"...there were galleries and sculptures all up and down these streets.  It was heaven!  When I finally got into the museum, I was moved and inspired.  I saw my first original Normal Rockwell.  I saw a Matisse (which is quite uncommon for me).  The museum started with Portraits, and some of them moved me to tears while others really captured emotions that I just don't know how to put a finger on.  There was a section of art that went through art through American history.  The details in these paintings were outstanding and unbelievable.  They brought forth such emotions...the only way good art can.  Some even made me laugh... like the piece of Art thrown into the middle of European Art..it was completely out of place and put there to "start conversation", and indeed it did.    By the time I left the museum, my heart was filled to overflowing.

Finally, on Friday, I gave in and decided to brave the Science Museum by myself. Usually, I have my kids or hubby with me.  They enjoy this stuff more than me.  But I jumped in and played with the experiments, got inside the hurricane wind machine, rode the submarine simulator, climbed the stairs to roll a ball down a fixture that simulated a roller coaster.  Then I found the Natural History part of the museum that talked about the Native Americans of the area and how the Europeans treated them. Tears fell down my cheeks.  Then I found the part about abolition of slavery and the underground railroad and history about Frederick Douglass who was friends with Susan B. Anthony (who often argued because one felt that the other didn't care enough about the other's fight...but both fought valiantly for human rights.)  Again, I cried.  It's a good thing this museum was pretty much empty.  There was a video of modern day people doing readings from stories written by free'd slaves....I sobbed.  Who knew this trip would make me think about history and human and civil rights and compare them to what is going on today in this world right now?  

Then there was the trip to Niagra Falls.  I will not go into details about this. But I will say, if you ever get the chance to go, make sure to get your passports and go to the Canadian side.. so much better!!!!

  

The trip with Tracy was amazing.  I am so glad I got to go.  But while we were gone, we missed Nate's birthday.  So the day after we arrived home, we celebrated Nate's birthday, bought a Christmas tree and decorated it.  As we were decorating, Tracy handed me one of the hand decorated balls that we did in 1996, before Naomi was even thought about.  I bought huge inexpensive plastic balls, paint pens and asked everyone to decorate a ball.  Everyone put their names and the year on them.  Tracy handed me one that said, "I love you mom".  I had never seen it before,  I turned it around to see who's ball it was.  It was Nick's.  I had NEVER seen the message on there before... in all of the years we have hung this ball; yet there it was.  Clear as day... a message from Nick.. "I love you Mom".  Right after that, the whole family hung up our sparkly rubber duckies that I bought last year.  He may not be here in person, but he is here in spirit.  Not the same thing, but I'll take what I can get. 

Since decorating the tree, I have been feeling "blah".  I don't know if its vacation crash, my knee, or just feeling down about not having Nick here.  But I have been crying mess for 2 days.  It doesn't help that I watched the last show of the original Gilmore Girls.   I won't give anything away, but damn if it didnt' have me balling and missing my son even more.  And then today, as I was driving to meet Brandi for lunch, I heard Dolly Parton sing "Hard Candy Christmas" and once again, I was a balling mess in my car.  I loved that song when I was a teenager, yet I did not have the life experience to truly understand it.  I wish I didn't have the life experience to understand it now...but I do, and I cried.  And I'm grateful that I was able to meet Brandi afterward and find a way to laugh!