So you are having a great day. Your future is brightening. The birthday of your passed person is on the horizon so you book two trips to help you through the day and allow yourself to get away and enjoy life.
You don’t want to be alone and think of the 43 candles he won’t be blowing out with you this year. You don’t have to stress about finding the right birthday present but you also don’t get to see his face when his eyes light up as he pulls away the wrapping paper. You want to acknowledge the deep emptiness of the day but you know he would want you to go out and celebrate. He will be there with you. You may not see him but you will feel his presence and know he is there celebrating with you. Your excitement builds with something to look forward too. Finally you have the big boat before the storm hits. You’ve begun to prepare.Read more
Since losing Tin, I look to each new week as a new horizon that will bring brighter days. This is my fourth post and I thought, maybe by now, my blog would have small sparks of settlement in the chaos. I guess it is good to hope but bad to assume. A very fine line that I often fail to recognize these days. I’ll keep the faith that those brighter days are to come but it is difficult with the unexpected challenges that continue to appear. I feel as though I have never heard of anyone else going through all of the milestone days associated with a loss along with the strange scenarios I have recently found myself cornered in. Yes cornered is a great description of how I feel and this week has been one of the most unmanageable yet.
Those who haven’t lost a partner can’t understand the extent of the loneliness. No one to wake up to. No one texting through the day to see how you are. No one to plan dinner with. No one to fold laundry with. No one in the room at the end of the night to wish you sweet dreams and provide a sense of safety through the night. Worst of all – No one to enjoy those special dates with. The lack of a person makes them almost unbearable.Read more
Well I made it. I made it through the first wedding since Tin passed only two months ago and it was followed by the next day being the first Father’s Day without my father. There were times I couldn’t hold back the tears and times I couldn’t catch my breath. I felt like a stranded fish. How ironic to be a crying stranded fish that needs salt water to breathe but the water is blurring you vision instead of spilling over your gills. I made it through the night with the fun songs, the heartbreaking songs that meant joy to all the others in the room, the condolences from family that haven’t seen me since Tin passed and catching myself rubbing my own palm and realizing I was just hoping to feel Tin take my hand. It’s not just losing the person it’s losing all the plans you had with that person and watching other people be rewarded with what you have lost.
The plane ride home was going well until I fell asleep. Dreams of the plane crashing, my apartment being robbed while I was gone and “Oh my God is my dog safe?”. What would I do if Roan was gone? I need to get home and the panic sets in. I move forward and jolted awake startling the guy in the seat next to me realizing I was locked 10,000 ft. from the answers to cure my panic. Of course everything was fine and Roan was tail wag crazy but as I returned home so did the stomachaches and dark clouds I had been carrying before my trip. It was an unexpected return home to realize how lonely and depressed I was. Skip it and go to bed. Work in the morning.Read more
It was overcast and a little muggy this past Saturday in Kona as I roused myself early to get ready. I went about my morning routine with a heavy heart, not looking forward to what the day held in store. Funerals and weddings are tough for widowed people, right up there with holidays and anniversaries. But I remembered what it was like that morning over three years ago now for me; that day of remembering we planned with our friends and family, and knew it was important.Read more
I pulled a Mike the other day. I was listening to someone playing the flute on a video and went looking for his little wooden flute to try and play it.
That was Mike; he had all kinds of silly instruments around and was always trying to play them, especially after hearing something particularly moving or beautiful. He had moments of beauty himself; he would sometimes manage a sound he was pleased with and would repeat it over and over to his joy - and our entertained annoyance. He was not trained musically (except on the bagpipes) but had the intent to learn and did just that, quite well, over the years, on lots of instruments - saxophone, drums, flute, keyboards, harmonicas…I bought him a harmonium one year and he loved that…and he got really good at the ukulele living here in Hawaii. He was ticked to learn, when we met, that I was a classically trained pianist and flautist. I don’t play much these days other than for my own entertainment but over the years we had a lot of fun playing silly songs together on all kinds of things.
Well, that flute was not to be found, of course, because it had been gifted to friends in the big sort-out after he died along with most of his other instruments - we’re talking cheap penny whistles and flea market sound-makers, things he collected and people treasured only because they had belonged to him. I knew this even while I was looking for it. But I still looked in the places I knew we had kept the flutes before, because I couldn’t remember exactly who had taken what or where I might have stored little bits like that after things got moved around.