What 2010 Has taught Me

2010 Started with a bang. I had huge plans and tons of motivation. I had a plan. And I dove right in. I talked to Dad several days a week and he was my biggest cheerleader. I was completely enamoured with photography and with the connection it gave Dad and I. I entered photo contests, and I was constantly out with my camera, getting awesome and different shots. Fast forward to early, early morning on Feb. 13. I received a call from my brother that Dad was non-responsive, but the EMT's were working on him. A hour or so later, he called back. He said "I'm sorry, but he didn't make it." I crashed hard. Part of my world was gone. The next month or so was a blur. His funeral was amazing, such an outpouring of love from the entire community. I don't know if this is just the way it's done in Small Town USA, but people came out of their businesses on main street to see the funeral procession and pay respects. They stood there, solemn, on the sidewalks...

Since that day, I have only been out with my camera maybe 5 times. The connection is not there, though I would like to get it back. I began to bounce back from the loss a bit about 3 weeks after Dad died. I was spending hours on the phone with his wife of 28 years, hearing lots of stories about Dad. His love for Benny Hill, for instance. I was so thankful for that connection, because it was a tie to Dad. Then, 28 days after Dad died, she passed away as well. The doctors said it was from a broken heart. And the connection was lost. My heart spun out of control again, and I was so tender.

I have never been one to cry much. But 2010 has made me more tender. It has also made me connect to people I wouldn't have before. It has made me reach out to those that are hurting. It has taught me more than I ever cared to know about grief.

Oh, one other very important thing happened in the early part of the year. Shortly after Dad's death, a loved family member, but known crazymaker did the unthinkable and waged an attack on his character to me. Love, grief, death and struggles made me fierce. I would not tolerate such an attack and so far it's been unforgivable. So... tender and fierce. Odd combination, huh?

At the end of September, I got the call that my brother's wife had passed away in her sleep. Days before her 32nd birthday, leaving 3 children and my dear brother. Seems we weren't done learning about grief. I see the struggles Tony is going for and my heart breaks. I am thousands of miles away, so all I can do is talk to him, be there for him. I cry often now, thinking of his broken heart. Thinking of his 13 year old daughter who reminds me so much of myself. And I would claw anyone to pieces if they hurt them.

2010 has taught me that life is fleeting. It has taught me that love is worth fighting for. It has taught me that sometimes fierce and tender live in the same body. It has taught me that there is some behavior I simply will not tolerate. It was a rough year, indeed. But the lessons were plentiful.

Trials

I made a big realization the other night about myself. I was helping someone, coaching them. And I said to them that they will get to a point where they are thankful for the trials in life, because it will help them to grow.

The realization was that I believe this to my core. I have trials, and I struggle. But I am thankful for them because I have been a witness to the fact that during those times (and immediately after) is when the bulk of growth occurs.

This has been the most difficult year of my life, with so many family deaths. I have grieved so much for them. At the same time, I have become utterly familiar with the stages of grief, making me more able to help others through it.

Every single thing has made me the person I am.

Good Intentions, Bad News

Yesterday I started the day with such good intentions. Then, about an hour into work, I got a phone call. My brother, Shane called. I knew something was up because Shane and I don't call each other, we text. His first words, "did my wife or Tony (my other brother) call you yet?" My heart sank. Shane told me that Tony's wife had died in her sleep. She and Tony had gone to bed the night before. She didn't wake up. My heart hurt all day. I cried throughout the day at work. I stayed really busy, because that is sometimes best.

Tony and Misty were together for 15 years. They have 3 children, the oldest being 13. Misty was 32 years old. I talked to Misty on facebook just last week. She was so happy and telling me all about their son's football games.

I talked to my brother Tony last night. We cried together for a time. I can't imagine the extent of his pain. Yet, he has to be strong for those children. Those 3 wondrous beings who have lost their mom. I want to do something for them. I just am not sure what yet. I thought about taking donations to go towards her funeral, or towards the kids' Christmas. Please help me. If you have ideas of what I can do, please let me know.

In the Event of an Emergency

When you visit the Oregon Coast, you see the above sign everywhere. It's a bit unnerving... but at the same time, it's nice that there is an evacuation route. This photo makes me think about emergency plans. I think it's so important to communicate the most horrible "what ifs" and take the proper steps to get what's necessary in writing.

I recently had the discussion about "what if I were in a car accident and had no brain function", "what if there were usable organs", "what if YOU could choose the time they'd turn off the machine and who could be there", "who should have a say in all of the decisions". A bit morbid? I don't think so, really. My Dad and stepmom, as most of you know, passed away recently. And even though they were not in great health, NO plans had been made. No-one knew what their wishes were... that made it a bit harder.

So... I have some emergency plans laid out, others need to be put into writing. But I am getting there. And, I will be discussing my wishes with loved ones. Not on a constant basis, it will NOT be my focus in life. But I will let them know it's ok to talk to me about it...

Anyway... there are sooooo many subjects I could cover here... "in the event of an emergency" perhaps I will get to those later.

Lessons from Death

I've written posts on the things I've learned from Dad. But today I'd like to share a few things I've learned from Dad's death. During the several days I was in Utah for the funeral, when I was surrounded by extended family, I learned that everyone grieves in different ways. No two ways of grieving are the same and one isn't right over the other. Some cry, some scream, some hit. At the core, they are grieving.

I learned that when I am grieving, I prefer to do it alone or with one person I love. I have always been "the strong one", but I realized with Dad's death that I'm just private. And being private leaves room to seem strong.

I learned that all of my "walking on eggshells" for other people's feelings ends when I'm exhausted from grieving. This one's hard to explain, but suffice it to say there's one family member who was getting treated with kid gloves, sometimes at other's expense. But I no longer have the energy for all that.

I learned that people around me get tired of the sadness and sometimes I just have to put on a happy face. I've also learned that with a dad as wonderful as mine, sometimes that happy face comes on it's own, when remembering his jokes or just his love.

I've learned from talking to others that grieving could take a long while. And I've learned that I will always miss him.

Back to the regular Schedule

This is last weeks picture of the barn. I have the 6 or 7 weeks so far in a file on my desktop and I need to upload them to flickr for my group I'm planning to call "Back to the Earth".

I'm trying to jump back on the horse today with blogging. It's a bit difficult, as Dad had been a very loyal reader of the blog. The last thing he said to me besides "I love you" was "You've got to stay away from them crazymakers!" I do believe that's the best advice I've ever received.

So, slowly, I'm trying to ease back into my routines. I did realize yesterday why it's taken me so long to just assume all the old routines. When I do that, I go on autopilot. Full autopilot. And I pick up my phone to call Dad.

So, back to routine with some revisions. I'll get there. Oh yeah... what have I learned? I learned from Dad to be the best person I can. I learned from his death to pursue my dreams while I have time. I will be listing and prioritizing!