Learning.

I haven't posted in a while, but it's not for lack of things going on in my life.  I'm looking at this time as a learning experience and trying to open my mind to all that I'm supposed to go through and learn from. 

In recovering from a life changing event is such an amazing journey.  It's a very emotional journey.  I'm not a person that asks for help easily.  I want so much to be totally independent.  And I have to LEARN that asking for help is not a weakness, it just is what it is, help.  I don't think anyone that asks for my help as weak, but yet I put that label on myself.  And losing someone as close to me as Tim, there is bound to be a hole in my life and I have to figure out how to fill at least part of it.  I find that sometimes the feeling alone starts to overwhelm me and it's like I'm in a dark room and I can't find the door.  Here's the learning part, I don't have to find the door, I only have to call out and there are people there to help me find the door.  

The holidays have been hard.  There are all kinds of memories along with things I never even realized we did together until I had to do them myself.  I am just trying to enjoy what I can with family and friends getting together and take in all the love that surrounds me and use that as my strength reserve when I get low.  Some of the holiday traditions are kind of going through the motions for me this year, but there is none of that with family.  I am so happy to have the family and friends that are like family, I don't know how people go through this without that kind of support. 

I must also use the gift that Tim gave me . . . the power of positive thinking.  He was the pro at that, and anyone that knew him knows that.  So I must daily think of the things that I have.  I have my family, I have friends that are as close as family, I have my house which I love and I have a life to continue living.  In our family, we have this thing we do--where will we be and what will our life look like a year from now.  This is the first time in my life I can honestly say . . . I have NO idea.  My planner brain has a little bit of a tough time handling that, but things are wide open.  That does excite me and that drives me to open my mind to possibilities that I never thought of and to keep taking one step at a time. 

When I was together with my cousins last weekend, we figured out that 2009/10 was a bad year for us all.  But what we also figured out is that we are strong women and if we unite with other women, we become only stronger and if nothing else, we are survivors.  So in crossing over into a new year, watch out!  There are a group of "kickin ass and takin names" kind of women that are going to shine through and make this next year their own.  I think I will learn what a RED year is all about.   

 

Something to look forward to.

Going through this last year, I didn't know how I was going to make it through losing the love of my life.  I have realized that Tim and I mourned together through most of our life together.  We mourned the loss of being able to do certain things, the loss of going places for long periods of time, the loss of being able to have a glass of wine together.  The last thing was actually losing him, and I had to do that alone.  I don't mean alone as in not having others around, I mean everything we had done had been together and now I had to walk alone through the hardest loss.  

I walked around in a haze for a few weeks, not knowing how to do anything but pray for the night to fall so that I would be tired and go to sleep and not feel the pain.  It was hard to believe that I would enjoy anything again.  That part of you just seems to be gone.  I realized that I was not looking forward to going home after work.  I looked for things I used to like to do, things I wanted to get, but never had the time to look at them.  I had rushed home every day for Tim, to take care of him, or just to be with him because I knew time was precious.  I went out, I called some of the many people that told me to call them.  I went out to dinner, out for a drink.  I started to feel again.  It's like part of you is paralyzed and you almost don't realize it until the feeling starts to comes back and surprises you.  

I slowly was breaking through this cocoon I was in and then I felt wings.  I started to believe again that I was going to live through this.  I gained my smile back and feel like laughing.  I'm feeling like there are possibilities out there for me for my future, for a happy life, and to continue to spread the love to people around me so much like Tim did.  There are still those times when I feel the intense loss of him and the part of me that went with him.  But I am still here.  

I feel so thankful to the people around me that walk this journey.  My family that's there to grab my hand when I fall and lift me back up.  My friends to help me fill myself and my life back up with happiness.  And everyone that I've come into contact with that has made me smile or made me feel good because that's what gets me up every day and gives me something to look forward to.         

It's time.

I have lived with either kids or a husband (or both) for 24 years.  When Tim passed away I was worried about living on my own since all of our kids were adults. 

This week, my refrigerator went out.  I called a repair guy and by my description he said "I know what it is, it's your compressor".  Now I don't know much about appliances, but I know that's the main part of your refrigerator so when it goes out, it's very very bad.  By bad I mean expensive, of course.  The repair man (who I will no doubt hire for my next appliance problem) told me that with Amana refrigerators had a compressor problem, so instead of doing a recall or something like that, they extended the warranty on the compressor to 5 years.  He tells me to call Amana. 

I'm searching my brain for what year we got the fridge.  A couple . . . few . . . several years?  I call Amana and they tell me yes, they did extend the warranty but when she looks up the serial number she said if I didn't have the receipt, the estimated date they have to go with would put me 2 months outside of warranty.  So, I'm thinking what awesome place did I put that receipt.  This is a pattern of mine--take a really important paper and put it in a "special" place.  That special place turns out is not a logical place, because I never find it.  So by chance that I actually put it in a place that I would remember, I went up to my jewelry box and opened the drawer and viola, there was the receipt.  Simply amazing.  So I'm excited, the customer service lady is excited, I'm still within warranty, they'll fix it for free . . . on Friday.  So now I have throw away most of my food in the fridge, luckily I saved my freezer stuff before it thawed and put it down in my chest freezer.  

So when I was cleaning out the fridge and cleaning out the science experiments from the back of the fridge I decided that this is starting anew yet again.  As I washed the pan the kids made the rest of my eggs in and didn't wash, then the pan that I made them homemade chicken noodle soup in and loaded dishes in the dishwasher that I did not use, I thought "I will fill this refrigerator with only the things I like (once it's working) and then it's time for me to be alone in this house.  I knew this was right when I went to blog and my computer was dead because somebody used it and didn't plug it in.       

   

You never know . . .

I am going to a financial planner these days, since I know little to nothing about investing.  I very much like to have things organized and all my finances will be in one place.  Whenever I plan like this, I always have an area of my mind that dips into the "you never know" factor. 

It has struck me recently because my life is so wide open with possibilities right now.  Every day there could be a person, a situation, an encounter of even the simplest kind that comes into your path that could change everything.  Your life after may not even look different to the average person, but something inside you changes and you never quite look at things the same again.  

It came up in this financial planning/retirement planning scenario that based on what I have in front of me right now, I have this plan to retire.  I look back in time and see the illustration of how my life changed when I met my late husband Tim.  The instant connection forever changed my life.  He encouraged me to write, which caused me to write on Caringbridge throughout the years of his illness.  What if, as a result of my life with him and experiencing his life to it's end, I write a book and a lot of people like it and buy it--that could change everything and I could always look back and point where my life changed forever.  

I try to take in the full experience of what's around me and embrace whatever comes.  Enjoy what is now, don't waste time waiting for your life to happen or waiting for that one thing that's going to make it all "better".  Even the small things; you never know, that could be the thing or the person or the event that shapes your thoughts or actions and causes your life to go down a new and different path from that point on.  Don't miss it by overplanning your life.  

You never know . . .     

Birthday Weekend

This weekend was my birthday.  Sunday--10-10-10.  In a move taught to me from my late husband Tim whose birthday was never just one day, I wanted to declare the whole weekend my birthday weekend.  After all it was special because it was 10-10-10, right? 

Luckily there were events happening that I knew were going to be fun to go to.  These events and the people who attended them were from my high school.  The class before me was having their 30-year reunion.  A get together was brewing in the old neighborhood, south Minneapolis.  It was fun just being back there . . . my old stomping grounds.  I get the feeling I'm transporting myself in a time warp.  Going back in time to when I was in high school at 17.  My girlfriends that are with me are the same ones as in high school.  We're walking up in the uncharacteristic warm weather for October in Minneapolis.  It's easy to forget what age we are.  There is quite a crowd of people there, we look for familiar faces.  One here, one there, some look like someone we used to know, we're searching for that yearbook picture to appear in our head.

We start talking to people, some we know from other Washburn get-togethers, but others we must have walked by in high school, but never spoke to.  Of course, most of the people here were a year ahead and in high school land, that's not someone you just walk up to and start talking to.  But now in this high school time warp, those people are not unapproachable.  They are friendly, we are only separated by a mere year in school.  We're all part of a bigger group of former Washburn graduates and we have so much in common.  I saw some old friends too, people that I have rich memories with that go back to junior high school.  To the days when we moved here from Michigan.  Funny, weird days (and I do mean weird) of being transplanted in a city from a small town with families and people we're introduced to as our new friends.  Turns out some of those people stuck and I have bonds with them that do not break.

I even had a cousin there.  The only other family in our bigger extended family that lived in Minnesota, and we went to the same high school.  It was kind of surreal to be sitting together, saying the same things and laughing how we did once upon a time only now we are 40-something and have had a mountain of different experiences and different lives.  But this one thing brings us together and we come from all places near and far, and we are friends again.  I saw old friends and even made some new ones; people whose pictures you recognize in some way but can't quite remember if you ever talked to them back in the day.  Then I realized that it was my loss for not stepping out and talking, because surely the people that are in front of me now and making me laugh have been good people all along.  

The next night was entertaining on so many levels.  We crashed the reunion - like I said, not my year, the year before.  Even now at our age, people look at you but can't place you or maybe can place you as not belonging there but say nothing.  That's what we call Minnesota Nice.  We walk through like teenagers that are afraid of getting caught.  All those insecurities come crashing down but the confidence that we feel now causes us to keep walking with our head up like we're supposed to be there.  But even if we officially didn't belong, we were welcomed with open arms to celebrate, dance, talk, and laugh. 

So over those two nights we danced, we partied, and we laughed so hard, we talked about boys and I'm happy to say even got attention from some of them and it still gave me the same thrill that it did then . . . because I was 17 again.  I stayed at my girlfriends house so we could talk for the next hour about the night behind us.    

The next day was back to the suburbs to my little log house in the country.  We watched football and talked and laughed as girls do.  These ladies, although all could not be there, are my sisters.  Since in my family I had only a brother and no sisters, I recruit sisters and the strength of those women get me through the bad times and now through some good times.  

So this birthday weekend was like no other, as my life transitions into something brand new that I create.  My Tim-angel on my shoulder is cheering me on to use the same enjoyment of the moment that I did with him to fully realize, experience, and LIVE this new life.  I got to start over . . . at 17.       

Clumsy? Um, yeah.

I have never been athletically gifted by any means, but I resisted the title of clumsy until now.  The sheer number of bruises on my body at this moment in time tells the truth.  If I went into a hospital claiming abuse, I'm tellin' ya, they'd believe me. 

This brings me back to my youth.  My parents and my brother all had athletic ability but I apparently just plain missed out on that particular gene.  My brother Ron tried to teach me to catch a football when I was a kid; this resulted in the worst bloody nose I've ever had.  My parents tried and even put me into softball, but I was terrible.  So I understand that I have no abilities here.  When Tim used to give me a hard time, insinuating but never coming right out and saying that I was clumsy.  I would defensively say "ARE YOU CALLING ME CLUMSY??"  He would smirk and say "No, but you hurt yourself more than anyone I've ever known."  So that is the history. 

It started Friday, when I went to leave my desk, of course in a hurry, and I clipped the corner of the fireproof file cabinet.  It was one of those corner hits that you just know is going to leave a mark.  It did.  Nice big round bruise right along side the long skinny bruises from my son's dog Rylie jumping up and catching me with one paw and scratching me down my leg. 

The next encounter was at the Renaissance Festival when we were just opening up.  My brother Ron had put a board that hold the doors shut up on a shelf about oh . . . nose height.  He didn't push it all the way down so the board when right through the walkway to the back.  Yes, you guessed it, walking to the back I hit it straight on to the bridge of my nose.  I do NOT know why I did not see it.  I save the best (or worst actually) for last.  

Last night I went up to bed.  I nearly always read before I go to sleep.  I turned my reading light on and got comfortable and began to read.  Then THE FLY started buzzing around the light.  Just for good measure, it would occasionally come over toward me and bounce off my book or my face.  It was one of those big flies that is like a translucent blue/green color.  I don't know what kind of fly that is, but I don't really want to know.  I used the arm of a shirt I had near me to swat it, but missed it again and again.  (This may go back to the athletic ability thing.)  So now I was pissed.  I decided to go downstairs and get a flyswatter.  I walk about halfway down the stairs and step on a file I put there earlier in the day to bring upstairs.  (Note to self, clean the shit off the stairs).  I started to slide and I'm not quite sure what happened after that but it all involved pain.  I tumbled down the remaining log stairs.  I managed to heavily bruise the back of one leg and jam my toe and bruise the front of my other leg.  

So this morning as I was using my cover-up to make the small bruise around my one eye because of the nose hit, it occurred to me.  Dang, I can no longer deny it, I am clumsy.    

Small town girl, city girl, or suburban girl?

Actually...all three.  I grew up in a small town, L'Anse Michigan.  As I see all the Halloween decorations out now, it makes me think of Halloween in a small town.  It was so fun.  It was a town event, people and kids everywhere walking and running up and down the streets.  Nobody was worried about people hurting kids, it was just a celebration that brought everybody out.  Of course, living in the UP of Michigan meant that by the end of October we had to wear our winter jackets under our costumes.  It kind of ruined the look of the costume but the sugar high drowned out the disappointment.  The freedom that came with living in a small town leaves some enchanting memories in my mind.  My brother and I walking to the candy store to pick out penny candy.  We could walk by ourselves, it was only a couple blocks away and there weren't the dangers of the city.  Our dog made her rounds and visited all the neighbors who gave her food and treats. 

At 10, we moved to Minneapolis.  What a culture shock that was.  The things we heard about the city were scary and there were just so many people . . . everywhere.  We lived in south Minneapolis.  The area was nice but there were the realities of places in the city that you should not go alone.  And let's be honest, the UP is pretty, um, white.  Personal experience with people of other ethnic backgrounds was both fascinating and nerve wracking.  But you realize once you get in school, that kids are kids and families are families and there are good and bad of both.  We experienced the city and all it had to offer.  I learned that if I wanted a job or to get places that I had to ride the city bus.  I watched and noticed things that my city friends had never noticed or thought of before simply because they had lived it all their lives.  Like the couple that always got on the bus close to downtown.  They were old (of course I was young then) but I bet in their 70 or older.  The woman looked like a picture straight out of a kid's nightmare of a wicked witch.  She had salt and pepper hair that was long and frizzy and came out from under a hat and stuck out everywhere.  Then there was the man, who had one leg and one arm that were bent and crippled in some way.  He was always about 4 steps behind the woman.  She talked all the time, he never talked.  As the bus was going down the block to stop at the corner, this couple wanted to catch that bus.  They were a ways away and city bus drivers wait for no man (or woman); they have a schedule.  This man, with his crippled leg and arm began this awkward sideways RUN.  This time he was in front and his babbling companion was taking her many tiny steps to try and keep up with him.  Nobody else on the bus was watching this play out.  The man seriously hauled ass and covered more territory than I could have imagined and got to the door as the driver was going to close it.  His long face with a little crooked mouth looked at the driver and he opened the door back up while the witch impersonator caught up and got on the bus.  That was one of the funniest situations that I ever watched and it was all city--a place full of characters if you just look up over your newspaper.  

Now I have created yet another lifetime of being a suburbanite.  Although I exist in the suburbs, I'm not really "part" of it.  I don't really know my neighbors (except for my ex-husband that lives down the road) personally at all.  Barely their names really, but I have lived here for 20 years.  Yikes it's scary to say it's been that many.  I don't take part in Farmington things.  I only went to football games when my daughter was a cheerleader and I didn't make friends with the other parents.  I was nice to them, but I never saw them outside the school events.  I have so many great friends and family and I pretty much stick with them.  They're my life, my strength, my happiness and I have all my history with them.  I have everything I need right there.  I also am out in the country here, so I don't see people walking down the street or things like that, so it allows me to have my own little world in my log house out in the country.  

So I am happy to say that I am a mix of all three; small town, city, and suburban.  I wouldn't have given up any of them.  I think that having all three experiences causes me to observe each one with a little bit of fascination.      

Renaissance

As hard as it has been to work the Renaissance on the weekend after working a full week at work, it has been a fun and interesting experience.  It is Halloween for grown-ups.  I found the adults get far more into the costume dressing than the kids do.  It's a show that I get to watch in living color every time I work. 

I think questions, like why is the Queen Mum in full costume. . . a man.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.  :-) But what man aspires to dress up as the Queen Mum?  I guess I just don't know anybody like that.  I'm guessing it's a very interesting kind of guy.  And who is the guy who is the jester?  He walks around looking stupid and squeaking some kind of toy instead of speaking.  Do you audition for such a role or does someone come up to you and think you could pull off looking stupid for an entire weekend?  These are the kind of questions that run through my head as I watch the show playing out in front of me every time I work.  

I'm also amazed at the amount of caffeine that is now consumed out there.  I like coffee, but have always felt lost in the choices that are in the average coffee shop.  I used to just go in and usually be behind someone that spewed out a long-winded description of their precise coffee recipe.  This would then make me feel speechless and not wanting to sound like I knew nothing of what I was ordering, so I just went with the daily roast and put my cream in it like at home.  Now, thanks to working at this booth, I can confidently order at a coffee shop.  I am shocked at the number of people that get multiple shots of espresso in their coffee drink, along with flavorings so you would end up with more caffeine and sugar than I probably consume in a week's time.  I think my heart would explode with that amount of caffeine in that short of time.  I would also develop that twitching eye thing that happens when I have even a little bit too much caffeine.
   
I did have some time to just hang around the Renaissance last night with some friends and we were approached by the guy who does "wildly inappropriate poetry".  It fit the bill and was hilarious, but we had to move away from children for him to read us the poetry.  This is why this is Halloween for adults; that was NOT a childrens' activity right there.  And where else would you see that many men wearing tights (many displaying a little to much information), and that many women bearing 3/4 of their breasts in public.  So next week is the last week, so the show will come to an end.  A fun but exhausting step into a rather bizarre but entertaining show.     
   

I said that.

I like saying what I think.  I'm sure not everybody appreciates this attribute of mine.  In a meeting when nobody want to ask a question, even with people looking from side to side waiting for someone to ask the question, I'll raise my hand and ask it.  If they didn't really want us to ask a question, then they should not have opened the floor to questions.  If you open the door, I feel it's my obligation to walk through it.  I like to say things out loud that I know everyone is thinking, but some form of Minnesota nice takes over and it's not said.  Not that it would be a negative thing, but would it be the politically correct thing to say. 

It's also really fun to be with someone that appreciates that part of you and loves that boldness.  It makes it feel like a gift.  I know where the gift came from.  My Mom was like this too.  Unconventional and bold.  I think those things enabled me to dig my life back out after a divorce and now is helping me do that again after becoming a widow.  I don't want to let anyone hold me back from experiencing or enjoying something because of their perception of how I should act.  Being with someone who appreciates all of your personality allows life to be experienced fully.  Nothing holds you back from being all of you and not caring if someone doesn't particularly like you.  

If someone doesn't like me, I'm OK with that.  I don't want them to be mean to me, but they don't have to like me.  I think they're missing out, because I'm very loyal and overall a pretty good friend.  I've also found that assertive doesn't always play well with people who want to control you (first marriage) either.  But when you get freed from control, it's so liberating to let it all out and just get to be your bold little self.  I felt all empowered and like I could just take on anything.  Then you meet someone else and your inner power is just part of you again so that person can't imagine you without it.  That's the injustice of going into a relationship with another controller, you don't get to live with inner power released or you let that controller push it back down inside.

So I'm going to keep being the person who asks the questions, pushes the envelope, and says the bold thing.  I'm OK with that. . .



  

Rules

I have found out that there are a lot of rules in life.  Not like the rules that govern our country, but rules that govern our life.  I'm talking about the ones that people don't really talk about but are nonetheless there.  There are rules when you are parents (yes I spanked my kids), rules when you get divorced (knew that one before I got divorced), rules when you are widowed (didn't really know this), and rules that go with daily life (I love my job). 

The rules of parenting are that you don't spank kids when they are bad.  That was not always the rules, at least not when I grew up.  And I'm not talking about beating or anything like that--I get the difference.  But I see more kids slapping their parents in the face then I ever did when my kids were young.  It's hard to see someone whose child is slapping them in the face and the parent is saying "no no honey".  Uh, no. 

The rules of divorce.  People are going to think there is something wrong with you that someone divorced you.  Oh, the injustice, but the truth.  Wives are going to think that you might want their husbands.  That one's for sure.  I think that's a carryover of the 60's and 70's, those home-wreckers, the divorcees!!  And the last, everybody hates their ex.  For me, the only grudge I hold with my ex is if I think there has been an issue (an injustice) with my kids.  Then I am a cougar (not the cougar of today).  The one that will kill you if you mess with my kids.  

And now the rules of being widowed.  Everyone is going to ask you how you are, and then tilt their head.  And most acquaintences don't really want to know the answer because it makes them uncomfortable.  There are many rules on what you "should" be doing at any particular milestone.  Going out and enjoying yourself is pretty iffy.  Especially if a lot of drinking is involved.  (Although some think "Wow, she probably needed that")  But everyone that loves you wants to make sure you're not doing too much of anything--it might be unhealthy.  That's OK because that comes out of love.  

My favorite rule I love to break is last one on my list.  The daily rule that says I love my job . . . and it is what it is, at least I have a job.  I do not accept that.  My life is what I make it to be.  I found myself looking at my life, my career etc. and thinking that was it.  I had an awesome husband with a very bad disease.  We fought it as hard as was possible, but fighting it was not enough.  But I started to see that as I was home a lot, I started to delve into my creative side.  I love to quilt, I love to read and most of all I have always loved to write.  I then decided that these things made me happier.  Why in the hell would I wait until I'm 46 to do these things that make me happy.  I know, I couldn't figure it out either!!  So I made a short term goal to start writing, and I did.  I felt a fire burning and words playing over and over in my head until I wrote them.  It was like I was writing for the first time. 

This is the Red Marla now.  I challenge myself to be everything I want to be.  I challenge myself to be the kind of friend, mother, daughter, sister that I want to be.  I challenge myself to get out of bed every morning, and carry the monumental loss of Tim with me not as a weight, but as a crown and embrace every feeling that goes with it.  I can feel Tim cheering me on like an angel on my shoulder to grab every moment of every day and make it something that makes you happy.  Just like I did with him.          

First Post . . . Tah-Dah

So here I am, on a blog.  I love to write and here's my attempt at breaking down the first door and just doing it.  I'm a big fan of just doing it.  I've had to take a lot of chances in life and now am making a lot of decisions on my own, so I have to survey, mull it over, then jump. 

The title, It all starts with the RED, is my symbol of empowerment.  I even have a mantra.  It goes like this "Red is good.  Feel a sense of empowerment from the Red.  Red is bold, it's a sign that you are taking charge of your future.  This is a new era for you.  You are no longer blending in, you are all out there and life will not happen to you; you will lead the way."  There it is.  I wrote this for a friend, but I now keep it posted on my wall at work.  Every time I feel like I'm not being in charge of my life, I read it.  There's several of us now that have embraced the red mantra and life changes when you do.  Well I should say, they've changed their lives. 

I've been through some stuff--a divorce followed by an awesome marriage, a combined family with 5 kids, and recently, the death of a spouse.  I've got some great family and friends, but ultimately it's up to me to get myself through the day, the week, etc.  I've got more support than many, but I have always taken the bull by the horns and forged ahead, making sure that I first look back and see if there's something to fix--in me, that is--that I do it before charging forward.  

I'm planning to write about life in general, I have a great sense of humor (that's certainly a lucky thing) and do my part to understand the crazy things in life.