Let me tell you about......Things that sneak up on you

An accident, a death, a random bill, a few well-intended Christmas cards, a 60th birthday.  These are some of the things that snuck up on me this year.

The year 2017 started out pretty calm, no football Super Bowl team anxieties like the previous year, the weather was tolerable here in Colorado compared to other states, and my family had no health issues.   Dad was awaiting the birth of his 11th great-grandchild and I was still loving my days as a caregiver for him and our grandson Ellis. 

Ellis was almost a year and a half and changing so much every day.  Dad and I loved our time with him and I think Ellis enjoyed all that he was learning from us two old folks.  We were all very fortunate to have that precious time together; I did not know my great-grandparents but Ellis will have lasting memories despite his young age.

Dad had turned 85 in September of 2016 and for his age he really was doing well.  He had decided to stop going to doctor’s appointments and was going to just stop taking his heart meds and let nature take him when it was time.  I was aware of his thought process, I knew that he was ready to be with mom, his brother, and his parents, but I really did not condone it.  He was tired of everything that was happening to him with regard to getting old and I would often walk by his room and find him staring out the window or reading a book of daily quotes that I had given him.  He watched a lot of news and sports but had lost his enthusiasm for both.  The highlight of his life had become the nine to ten hours a day that he was able to spend with a sweet little boy from the time he was 2 months old.  I was blessed to be a witness to this time in my dad’s life and captured a lot of it on film and video. 

My cousin Cindy, her daughter Amanda, her son Jacob, and her grandson Jackson visited dad for his birthday that year.  It was a short visit but one that I am certain they will always remember and never regret.  We did some sightseeing around Colorado, had a birthday party, and really enjoyed the family time with loved ones who live too far away.

Dad’s new great-grandson, Lucas, was born in January of 2017 and he was tickled with this new arrival.  He knew how fortunate he was to be around to know great-grandchildren but felt his health was not such that he could travel to visit in California.  In light of this, my brother, his daughter, and her two sons (the one being the newest great-grandson) announced a planned trip to visit dad in April.  Their trip was a long drive from where they lived and they braved some cold and snowy Colorado weather over and through the mountains to come and visit dad, grandpa, and great-grandpa.  Dad was pretty thrilled with the notion of them coming and started cleaning his room about a month before their arrival date.  He was really sweet to watch.  He also went through his collections of trinkets and knick-knacks to see if there was anything to send home with all of them. 

In March dad came to me with a distressful dream that he had experienced.  In this dream he had passed away and left me unprepared; it really was weighing heavy on his mind.  I was his power of attorney for all matters and I took his distress seriously.  I took action to have someone come to our house to do pre-planning for when it was time for him to pass on.  It was a surreal experience to sit and help him make the decisions of cremation, military service, select the urn, and arrange the payments.  Mom had been cremated after her passing in April of 2013 and her urn was a fixture in dad’s bedroom.  We planned to have her urn placed with his when the time came so they would lay to rest together.  The planning was done and he felt relieved.  I, however, had some anxiety at the thought of him passing but filed the paperwork in the safe where all of his other pertinent data is stored.

The April weekend that my brother and his family traveled, dad kept a close eye on the weather forecast in anticipation of them driving through the snow and ice conditions.  He had his travel atlas out on his bed and kept an eye on their progress, he was adorable with anticipation.  They arrived the evening of Sunday, April 9th and dad was a happy man.  It had been tough for him to be so far away from half of his family but alas they were here and I could see what good medicine it was for him. 
This is the week in 2017 that snuck up on me the worst.  I was enjoying seeing my brother Steve and niece Kari whom I had not seen since my mom’s funeral in 2013; I had never met either of my “nephews”, Kaleb and Lucas, even though the oldest one was 10 years old.  We took lots of pictures of the gathering.  We had breakfast out on Monday April 10th, took them by dad’s favorite coin shop where they purchased some fun souvenirs, then went down to Denver to the stadium where the Bronco’s play.  My dad and brother were big Bronco fans, my niece and her 10 year old not so much.  It was a beautiful sunny morning for the drive and we shared good conversation. 

On Tuesday April 11th, we again went out to breakfast and this time we also had Ellis with us.  The meal was enjoyable and fun to watch Kaleb and Ellis get to know each other.  The weather was lovely so we dragged everyone to the Denver Zoo.  Dad used an electric cart, Ellis and Lucas had their strollers, and we spent a good half day walking and getting some great pictures of our family.  We were certainly tired but spent the evening back at our house relaxing.  Dad showed them our coin collection and I knew he really loved doing that, it was his one real passion that we shared.  I could tell he was exhausted and he went to bed early even for him.

Wednesday April 12th was the day that changed my life.  I am not taking anything away from anyone else as to how it changed theirs but I am writing this from my own perspective.   Everyone who comes to Colorado likes to visit the mountains and Estes Park has always been one of my favorite places.  My husband and I stayed there at a bed and breakfast for our wedding night back in 1998 so it has always held a special place in my heart.

We had another fun breakfast that morning and decided that a tour of Estes Park was on the agenda for that day.  Layers of clothing, kids, cameras, and bottles of water in tow we headed up the canyon for another day of touring Colorado.  The mountains are a familiar drive to my vehicle and they welcomed us with beautiful sunshine, flowing creek rapids, and ample photo opportunities.  We took advantage of the numerous pull-offs provided for viewing the spectacular valley below and the mighty mountain ranges in the distance.  Dad, my brother, niece, and her oldest son got out of the car at many of the stops while Ellis and I stayed inside the car.  Truth be told, there were too many places for him to run around and possibly fall and get hurt, I was being over cautious.

We saw a herd of elk, which is not at all uncommon for Estes Park, lots of other tourists, a few patches of snow, and breathed in tons of fresh air.  It was a lovely day.  The National Park has a visitor center at each entrance so after a long day of being cooped up in the car we decided to stop, stretch, change baby diapers, and look for souvenirs.  It was at this last stop that dad slipped, fell, and had the accident that would take his life less than two days later. I had been over cautious with the wrong loved one. It snuck up on me when I least expected it and my world was turned upside down in an instant. 

So much blood, panic, people, confusion, self-blame, and instant change.  I had to become the medical power of attorney that I had always been deemed in a split second.  I always imagined it would require me having to make a decision for him after a long illness, many years down the road from 2017.  Instead, I had to grab his wallet, get his personal data out and begin a nightmare that lasted through two hospitals, two ambulance rides, and less than two full days. 

At 4:25 a.m. on Friday, April 14th I received the call that dad had passed away.  His heart was not strong enough for the amount of injury and pain that his body was attempting to endure.  He let go, left me, and went to be with mom, his brother, and his parents. My husband took me on the very long (20 minute) drive up to the hospital so I could sign the necessary paperwork, say goodbye to him, and acknowledge the well-meaning doctors and nurses giving me the sorrowful look as I walked past them.  Back at home I was faced with pulling the paperwork out of the safe just one month after dad had his dream.  It snuck up on me.

After two months of planning and organizing dad was laid to rest along with mom on what would have been their 64th wedding anniversary.  The service was more beautiful and sad than I ever imagined; the party afterward was lovely and fun and life moved on.

The summer of 2017 progressed with changes to my life and every day situation.  I went from being a caregiver to dad and Ellis to just having Ellis a couple of days a week.  His other grandparents were in Colorado for the summer and they watched him three days a week.  I am sure they all had a wonderful time together as we did.  He is so much fun and teaches us a lot!

On occasion, more than ever expected, a hospital bill would arrive with dad’s name on it.  During a time when I was trying to heal my broken heart and learn how to move on I would have to call and discuss the fact that he would not be paying the bill because he had passed away in their hospital.  A dentist appointment reminder arrived more than once even though I had already made that painful phone call.  A reminder for an annual checkup at his ear, nose, and throat doctor forced me to make yet another call.  These things all snuck up on me in random spacing just to keep that wound open for me.

September, dad’s birthday.  This did not sneak up on me as I had spent time thinking on what would have been number 86 for him.  It was a silent observance, one of many to face in my future. 

Thanksgiving was on the horizon and I did not have the energy or desire to plan a gathering so we took a road trip to visit family in Kansas.  It was a good week and I had a few occasions of missing my dad.  I have been told by many people that “it gets easier” so I imagine that someday it might.

I knew the month of December would be a challenge for me with Christmas and my 60th birthday in the same week.  I truly thought dad would be here for my birthday, a really special one.  I had a long month to put that into perspective and really did my best with the help of my husband, one of my sons, and his wife.  In early December Christmas cards started to arrive and the first one was addressed to dad.  It was from someone who was in his address book but did not have a phone number so I had been unable to let them know of his passing.  I was not thinking that I was going to have to give such sad news to his friends, old work acquaintances, previous neighbors, or anyone during the holiday season. I thought that pain was put aside. I ended up having to write to three people that I did not know; this snuck up on me. 

Last, but not least, my 60th birthday.  It falls in that dead space between Christmas and New Year’s.  The days where everyone is taking down their decorations, cleaning their houses, and checking their finances to see the damage.  My birthday is three days after and three days before these two occasions.  Nobody really wants to get together because they just saw you for Christmas (and more often than not try to give me my present then) or they are back to work and moving on from the holiday.  I have one dear friend of over 40 years that sends me my present in early December.  It is so exciting when it arrives but I have disciplined myself to set it aside to open on my birthday and not before.  It sits either under the Christmas tree in obvious birthday wrapping or in my bedroom for me to see for weeks.  In the past, dad would make such a fuss over my birthday because he knew I had a silly complex about its proximity to Christmas.  He spoiled me terribly and I took it for granted every year.  I would not have his birthday hugs, sweet smile, or birthday song this year or ever again.  Even though I knew this was coming it snuck up on me. 

His presence is all around me in photos, clothes, knick-knacks, children, and grandchildren.  I am now three days into my 60’s. My hair is gray and long and I look the part of the grandmother of 10 that I am and the daughter that has had a rough year.  It is New Year’s Eve, and I am just hoping that 2018 will be one of good health and lots of fun in this new decade of my life.  I might trim my hair but I have earned every gray strand on my head.

There are certain things that I cannot do at this moment and am not sure that I ever will be able to do.  I get choked up when we drive by the hospital that dad passed away in, Medical Center of the Rockies. Anyone visiting us should not expect to be taken by me to Estes Park, or to visit the Rocky Mountain National Park.  My love for the town and the park is forever bruised like a bad marriage and I am not sure that we will ever reconcile.  Like a surprise divorce, sadly, this snuck up on me.

My family and true friends have overwhelmed me with their emotional support this year and I am very grateful for the patience everyone has had with my mourning period.  I do appreciate the kind words, cards, and compassion shown for my loss.  I am forever a different woman in more ways than one this year.  My husband and I don’t take any days for granted and I am thankful for every minute that I get to spend with loved ones.  It is old advice but you truly need to open your eyes and enjoy what you have at this very moment.  Live life with no regrets, try to adjust for the things that sneak up on you, and embrace your age.

As always, thank you for reading my blog.
Grandma P

Let me tell you about......."Me Too"

The "Me Too" hashtag (#MeToo)  campaign that has flooded social media lately as a result of the Harvey Weinstein scandal actually started over 10 years ago and has pretty much lain dormant until very recently.

Unfortunately, activists have jumped on the bandwagon along with real people who have been subjected to unimaginable scenarios of sexual harassment.   Many of them, including me, have managed to push those memories way way down to our "mind cellars" to hide behind things we aspire to forget.  I am not an activist or feminist.  I am just an almost 60 year old woman who is ready to share an experience from over 30 years ago.  I have not shared this with but a handful of people, I hope you will not judge me negatively.

The time frame was mid-1984 through late 1985 in Southern California where I grew up.  It was a very long 15 month period in my life.  I was already a mother of two young sons, divorced from their father and remarried to my second husband.  I had a great job as a contractor to our local IBM and worked in software quality assurance testing at a junior level with a senior level person as my mentor.  My days were challenging enough as a mom sharing custody of my kids, working full time learning a new job, and attempting to run a new household.

My nightmare began one day when I arrived at work, walked into the office I shared with my mentor, and was shoved against the wall by his much larger body.  He joked and said "you know you want it" and I pushed him off of me, trembling all the way to my desk.   He acted like it was a non-issue and we went about our day of tasks.

About a week went by and we were driving from our office to IBM in my car when he grabbed my right hand and put it onto his crotch.  I pulled it away, completely repulsed, and told him that it was VERY wrong, and to never do that again.  I was terrified and confused.  When we arrived back at our office, we walked by the front receptionist whom he greeted with a big smile and acted like nothing was wrong; this person was his wife.  Her desk was right around the corner from our office.

That night at home I confided everything to my husband because I was very upset and did not know what to do.  I needed my job and my mentor was one of the top employees of the company and adored by our IBM customers.  I was afraid to come forward fearing nobody would believe my accusations and he made sure to let me know that nobody would. So, I endured a year of this sick, sick behavior all the while threatening him every time he touched me.

When I finally came to my senses and had my first meeting with Human Resources I was told that he was a model employee who never took a sick day, was very well like by our IBM customer, and that it was very hard to believe my story.  When I told them that I was constantly shoving him off of me in my own office I was told that he did not appear to have any physical signs of me doing that.  I let them know that if kneeing him in the balls or punching him in the face was how I should have handled it then I was sure as hell sorry I had not handled it that way and left him some scars.

Reluctantly, Human Resources took my complaint and called him in to discuss it with him and they also insisted I be in the meeting as the accuser.  I had a lot of stomach problems during this time of my life and this was the catalyst for them.  He, of course, adamantly denied every issue of my complaint and the matter was closed, and no charges were recorded, because they believed him and not me.  Their point was enforced with "his wife works here, why would he do these things"?   I was in a nightmare that I could not wake up from.

Instead of halting his behavior he took this as a challenge and became more aggressive and more frequent with his sickness.   I would cry a lot at home at night, so confused and lost, not knowing how to get myself out of this horrible situation of which I was an unwilling party.  My husband wanted me to, but quitting my job was not an option, I needed to remain gainfully employed to care for my sons. 

I was in the break room at work one day when a woman came in and she was visibly upset.  She volunteered that there was a man at work who had been sexually harassing her for a few months and she did not know what to do about the unwanted attention.  I was in shock!!! I let her relieve her burden onto me as she shared with me similar stories of his behavior.  When she finished, I shared with her my year long tale of torture and we just sat there looking at each other in puzzlement.

I pleaded with her to take her story to Human Resources so that they would know I was telling the truth about this monster of a man.  She was not ready and I was saddened by her decision.  Like me, she had a child to support, she was a single mother and could not afford to lose her job.  What a terrible world to live in to have no options and feel painted into a corner.  I had no choice but to respect her need for privacy and let her contemplate a next step.  Meanwhile, his attention was still being afflicted upon me, however, not as frequently and I suspected now I knew why.

A couple of weeks went by when the "other woman" came to me in tears; she was ready to go to Human Resources and tell her story.  Can you imagine how this went?  I was not in the meeting with them but at first they asked her if she was in collusion with me on the matter!!!  Excuse me, what the heck?  Can you guess at this point that the Human Resources Representative is a man?  Yes, yes, that is a sexist comment on my behalf but it was appalling that he did not believe either one of us at our word.  At this point we are wondering if we are the only two or if more women were silently being held hostage in this nightmare.

We insisted on a formal meeting with the man we were accusing and at least two Human Resource Representatives to file formal charges; no formal charges had been ever filed up to this point.  The man denied all accusations at first and then decided to change his story such that it was we two women who were coming on to him and that we both wanted the attention.   I think the new representative could see that the man was lying, thank goodness.  We were dismissed from the meeting so that the matter could be handled with an appropriate punishment.

The next day at work rumors ran rampant that one of the best employees had been walked out the day before and was carrying his belongings.  His wife was crying at her desk and she gave me an evil stare when I walked by; okay, the story was out and now it was time to hold up my head and carry on.  The customer was notified that he had been let go and that I had been promoted up to his position.  Wait, what?   There were lots of whispers and not-so-silent talking behind my back that I had him fired so that I could have his job.  I believe his wife was the catalyst of this really harmful rumor but I could not be certain.   I knew the truth and that was all that mattered. 

I arranged a meeting with my customer at IBM, she was a very professional, intelligent woman with whom I had enjoyed working with very much.  There were tears, and frank talk of what I had been through, and she believed me!  Together we managed to persevere through all of the muck that had been circulated from within and from that point forward my work days were finally free from my long torment.  I learned so much more at work as my brain could be free from the ancillary issues that had no business ever taking up space in the first place.  The "other woman" was also thriving at work as she enjoyed days free from sexual harassment. 

In 1986 we received news that the IBM was being closed and all employees and contractors had the option of moving to Boulder, Colorado with their jobs or staying in California without their jobs.  It was a big decision for everyone and also an exciting adventure to consider.  About 200 of the 400 people affected took the offer and relocated to Colorado, me included.  To this day I have no idea where my "mentor" and his wife ended up, nor do I care.

In the early 1990's I learned the martial arts of Jiu Jitsu, obtained a second degree brown belt, and even taught classes at our local YMCA.  I still have small quirks that remain from my experience; I am not comfortable when people stand too close to me in the grocery store or any kind of line and I have a tendency to keep an eye on my every surrounding.  That is okay, though, I am confident that nobody will ever lay an unwanted hand on me without regretting it or having some pain or bruises.
Is that too extreme?  I think not.

As always thank you for reading.

Grandma P

Let me tell you about ....... Grief

“People deal with grief in different ways”; I keep hearing these words from different people and sources.   I recently watched the documentary “Diana, our Mother: Her Life and Legacy,” on HBO and I was very moved by it.  This year marks the 20^th anniversary of the death of the late Diana, Princess of Wales on August 31^st, 1997.  Her sons Prince William (the Duke of Cambridge) and Prince Harry have graciously made a documentary to share their story; it is the first time that they have both spoken of her as a mother and their emotions are still raw. They both have regrets of a different nature that they need to come to terms with in their own time.  The death of a loved one is “a well defining moment,” according to Prince William.  I cited this quote because it is so spot on for me and I watched his face as he spoke.

I searched and found several definitions of the word grief:

noun:

1.       deep sorrow, especially that is caused by someone's death.  "she was overcome with grief"

synonyms:         sorrow, misery, sadness, anguish, pain, distress, heartache, heartbreak, agony, torment, affliction, suffering, woe, desolation, dejection, despair; 

2.       keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret.

3.       a cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow.

informal:

4.       trouble or annoyance.  "we were too tired to cause any grief" or "the police gave me a lot of grief"

idioms:

5.       come to grief, to suffer disappointment, misfortune, or other trouble; fail:

“Their marriage came to grief after only two years.”

6.       good grief, (used as an exclamation of dismay, surprise, or relief):

“Good grief, it's started to rain again!” 

As I watched the documentary it was evident that these two young boys, now grown men, clearly felt the sorrow and sadness for the loss of their mother even after twenty years.  The brief moments that they had with her in their early lives left such an impact on them that they still “felt” her love.  I truly related to this notion with the recent loss of my dad.  There is a very distinct difference between feeling the loss of love that you had for someone as opposed to feeling the grief over the loss of love that someone had for you.   My dad was one of my best friends and confidants and I was his; his death has left me missing many things about him among them his conversation, his smiles, and his hugs.  His love for me was immeasurable and he made sure that I knew it.  I am most definitely overcome with grief and the moment is well defined for me.  

I am the keeper of my dad's belongings, a tough task after he has passed away.  He kept detailed records in a binder in the event of his death.  When I first opened the binder I found this letter that he had left for me and it still makes me cry.

I met a family recently.  Their mom, grandma, great-grandma, sister, aunt, and friend had passed away in July.  A woman who in her 89 years of life touched many people’s hearts and I was honored and privileged to witness their stories and sadly, their grief during her celebration of life this past weekend.

Her story began a few years prior to my dad’s; 1928, a year of many interesting achievements.  News stories read that Alexander Fleming discovered penicillin and changed the world of modern medicines by introducing the age of antibiotics and his discovery of penicillin that is still saving millions of people.

Aviator Charles Lindbergh was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor by U.S. President Calvin Coolidge during March of 1928. Lindbergh was awarded the country's highest honor for completing the very first non-stop transatlantic flight in his plane, the Spirit of St. Louis, during May of the previous year.  Amelia Earhart became the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic in June. 

The Home Pregnancy Test is first introduced and the Olympic Winter and Summer Games are held for the first time in the countries of Switzerland and The Netherlands.  The year 1928 was noted as the first time that the Winter Games took place in a different country than the Summer Games.

Beloved children's cartoon character Mickey Mouse makes his first appearance in "Steamboat Willie," one of the first successful films to feature synchronized sound in an animated cartoon film.  It was produced by Walt Disney and inspired fan clubs that are still in place today.  “The House at Pooh Corner” by Author A. A. Milne is published in England and once again the loveable Winnie the Pooh is captured forever in time as the “Tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff” and a “Willy nilly silly old bear.”  It is this famous Winnie the Pooh quote, however, that makes me think of the life celebration I attended last weekend:

"Always remember you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think, and loved more than you know."

On Wednesday January 11^th, 1928 a baby was brought into this world in Scottsbluff Nebraska; a baby who would grow into a woman who made a dramatic impact on many lives.  She was first and foremost a loving daughter, sister, wife, mother, step-mother, aunt, grandma, and friend.  For 35 years she worked as a stockroom assistant in a major department store and retired as an office supervisor.  She twice held the office of president at two Veterans of Foreign War (VFW) Auxiliary Posts and Moose and Eagles Lodges.   At the time of her death she had served a total of 41 years in the VFW Auxiliary. She had a special place in her heart for her Friday Girl’s Lunch Bunch, and playing pinochle with friends. 

At the funeral home, the pews were lined with handmade quilts that were lovingly made by this wonderful woman.  The oldest son was tasked with giving them to whomever he chose and he did so with a unique and fun delivery.  Unbeknownst to me, he had little gold strips of paper in his pocket that were the same number as there were quilts available.  I had introduced myself to him, gave my condolences, and listened to him tell me some great things of his mom.  We chatted about the VFW Auxiliary as I was there as the Chaplain representing the post that she was last associated with.  I inquired about a restaurant I had heard that he and his family were opening very soon, and we chatted about loss.  I shared that I had recently lost my dad.  I realize that it was probably not a normal thing for one to commiserate with grief but I felt that we had a nice comfortable connection.  Evidently he felt similarly because out of his pocket he pulled a gold slip of paper and handed it to me.  His eyes were very sincere as he told me to write my name on it, grab a paperclip, and put it on one of the available quilts made by his mother.  I was so touched by this gesture, it was very meaningful to me. This quilt shall go to future VFW Auxiliary meetings with me to keep her presence alive.

During the service, I listened to family members speak of their gratitude and love for a woman who brought so much to their lives.  Dancing, cooking, quilting, games, and laughter were all bestowed upon this family to carry forth to future generations on her behalf.  It was a lovely testimony of eighty-nine years of a life well-lived.  During her service there was music, polka dancing, laughter, tears, and even one curse word.   Grandkids spoke of a loving grandma for whom they adored and clung to each other for support when the emotions overtook them.  One grandson had a joke that his grandma had told him but decided it was too naughty to retell, this brought much needed laughter to the room as it appeared that others were familiar with the joke he was referencing.

As I previously noted that “People deal with grief in different ways” it was more evident to me than ever during this celebration of life.  There was quite a contrast to this celebration and the one for my dad.  Besides myself, no kids, grandkids, or great-grandkids, cousins, nieces, or nephews, got up and shared any kind or loving words for my dad.  This family had emails to read that had been written and sent to read from people that were unable to attend; I would have read anything from anyone who wanted to share their feelings for my dad.  Their grief was outspoken and vulnerable and well accepted by all.  In contrast there were people who could not even watch the beautiful slideshow of my dad that portrayed his life, career, and love of family because their grief was overwhelming. These actions do not diminish anyone's grief but are ones I cannot relate to or understand.  
I have learned a lot about myself over these past few months and am trying my best to reconcile some feelings of bitterness and confusion over things I feel should have happened during my most vulnerable moments but did not.  It is tough and I have to take it one day at a time.  There is no "good grief" for me.

"Always remember you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think, and loved more than you know."

As always thank you for reading.
Grandma P