A Ripple Effect

Something To Think About. . . . . . .

 

 

 

Every little thing you do adds up,

 

and before you know it,

 

you've created your life.

 

And how you create your life

 

ripples out and effects everyone

 

and everything that crosses your path,

 

known or unknown to you.

 

                   ~ Kathy Freston

A Friend's Good Bye Letter

Last week a childhood friend of my father's died.  They had known each other since they were in grade school and met each other while playing on the black top when they were about seven or eight years old.  They both went on to attend the same high school, playing basketball, and later both went into the insurance business working for different companies.

 

 

Over the years, they stayed in touch with each other as best they could.  They both worked very hard while trying to raise large Irish Catholic families.  My father and mother had six children and my Dad's friend and his wife had eight children.  Our families didn't really mix, not because we didn't want to, but more because the ages of the children were different we didn't live close to their neighborhood and there basically was just too much stuff going on to try and coordinate anything.

 

When you have known someone for as long as my Dad and his friend knew each other it is hard to let go.  My Dad knew that his friend was not well but didn't know how sick he was until he received the news of his friend's death.  One way to keep the person connected to you is write a letter to the person now deceased.  I don't think this is morbid.  In fact, I think it's very healthy.

 

The person who died is someone who had an important place in your life.  The person is physically gone but the friendship is still there.  Sharing memories -- whether it's through writing a letter or talking to others about this person -- is a healthy way to process your feelings of grief and to establish  to yourself that the friendship or perhaps love in other cases, is still there and will always be.

 

 

Now my Dad is writing a letter to his friend's widow and their adult children about his special friendship with this man and it is bringing back a lot of great memories for him which he hopes will also be a comfort in the days and years ahead as they and my Dad work through their loss.

 

Don't ever unestimate the importance of a note written from the heart.  After my husband died, I received cards from people who worked with my husband or were friends with him and some wrote notes to me about how they knew him and their experiences with him.  I saved those cards because those notes were like little pieces of a puzzle that was my husband.  Sometimes the stories caught me by surprise and other times I only knew the story from my husband's point of view and the handwritten note reveal a different side of him to me.

Let me be honest, sometimes the stories weren't always the best but either way, the notes were part of dealing honestly and openly with our feelings of grief and trying to find comfort in reaching out and sharing.
 

Picturing The Calm

I'm picturing myself in a place near the water that is quiet and calm.

Shutting out the noise and distractions.

Hoping this feeling will carry me through the day!

Photo courtesy of Delaware National Estuarine Research

A Delaware Bay Haiku (c) KBC

 

Horseshoe crabs spawning

 

Lots of shorebirds arriving

 

The Bay inviting

Roger Rosenblatt's Reflections

 

Some wonderful friends on the West Coast gave me Roger Rosenblatt's book, Kayak Morning, as a Christmas present.  I was familiar with Rosenblatt as a writer for Time magazine and also as a columnist for The Washington Post, but was unfamiliar with the tragic death of his daughter, Amy Solomon,  a 38-year-old wife and mother of three children, from a heart condition.

 

In Kayak Morning, which was written two years after Amy's death, Rosenblatt explores the human experience of loss.  His descriptions of his grief and his reflections about his daughter Amy's death are calm and straightforward yet poignant.

It is while Rosenblatt is kayaking in a creek not far from his home in Quogue, New York that he finds the solitude he needs to sort through his scattered thoughts about his grief and work through his deep sorrow to try and make sense out of what has happened to him and his wife, Ginny.  Rosenblatt recounts conversations that occured during this particular summer of kayaking and in an unusually striking discussion, he presents the idea that grief is a gift:


"You have to understand," she said. "Grief lasts forever."

"Like death," I said.

"Like death. Except death is someone else's condition, and grief is all yours."

"I feel worse now than I did shortly after she died."

"And you'll feel worse next year.  And worse the year after that, unless you find a way to transform your grief."

"We're back to that."

"We've never left it," she said. "Grief comes to you all at once, so you think it will be over all at once. But it is your guest for a lifetime."

"How should I treat this guest? This unwelcome, uninvited guest."

"Think of the one who sent it to you," she said.

I thought I had become familiar with most of the different ways that grief can be felt and presented to a person who has lost a loved one until I read the above excerpt.

It took me aback; the first time I read it, I thought to myself, "Grief is definitely not a present to be opened and cherished." But the more that I thought about the profound idea of it, the more I began to understand Rosenblatt's surprising point about grief being something personal given to you by the person you loved and lost. 

For it is in our grief, that we struggle to still keep our loved one alive.

 

Through writing down memories and sharing stories about the spouse, child, parent, friend or relative you loved and lost, you are  remembering your loved one, and as painful as your loss is in the beginning, grief, through the passing of time, does become more manageable.

 

Bringing your loved one back into your life through stories becomes a gift of sorts through the laughter, smiles and even tears that the person's life brings to others.

 

Fat Tuesday

Today is Fat Tuesday.

 

For Catholics, today is the last hurrah before lent begins tomorrow.  That is how Mardi Gras come to be.  Essentially, Mardi Gras is French for Fat Tuesday and with Mardi Gras comes some hard partying and parades and good times before Lent begins on Ash Wednesday. 

 

 

 

 

Lent is a time of fasting and serious reflection, a time of giving something up or doing something that's personally hard in order to prepare yourself for the celebration of Easter.

 

This year, once again, my demon is sugar.

 

I know all the bad stuff about sugar and how it is bad for your immune system and how it is highly addictive. Yet, try as I might, during the holidays, I cannot resist the cookies and chocolates that seem to surround me. I tell myself that when the new year arrives I will put the brakes on the sweets but then my birthday arrives in early January and I'm back on the sugar train.

 

The problem is that sugar makes you feel better.  At least it makes me feel better for the moment of that I eat it.  I read somewhere that when you eat sugar, it tells the brain to release dopamine, a chemical that the brain also releases when certain drugs are ingested or when you exercise a lot.  I'm always trying to remind myself about this sugar-brain connection but then I start to think about freshly baked cookies.

 

 

 

 

 

My friend Eileen makes the most outrageously delicious cookies in the whole world and when I see a plate of them offered at get-togethers, there is no way I can resist them.  Her cookies are like potato chips: you can never eat just one.

 

Whenever I think I'm the only one who is out of control about sugar, I pick up Kris Carr's book, Crazy, Sexy Diet, and I go directly to her chapter on sugar.  Here is an except from Carr's chapter entitled, Cupcakes, Coffee & Cocktails:

 

"Look I know firsthand how hard it is to heal addictions.  I come from a scarf-and-barf, drink-too-much history.  Date night with myself was a debaucherous romp into coma-ville.  I'd buy a bunch of cookies and wine, pop the top button of my jeans, and chow down.  Occasionally my higher self would guide me to the trash can before I finished every last crumb.  An hour later my lower self would bark orders to pick through the trash and retrieve the delicious drugs like a back-alley junkie.

 

Elegant people don't dig through the trash.  The chic and stylish don't attack their doughnuts with Windex.  Yes, I admit it.  The only way to keep my paws off the contraband was to blast it with Windex.  Clearly I was out of control."

 

Lent is arriving at the perfect time for me.  I need to be motivated to give up the sugar for an extended period of time and this way I'll be doing it for a higher purpose and a heavenly being.

 

And maybe, just in case, I'll keep the Windex nearby.

 

It's A New Day

Photo By Jonny Valiant

I'm not making resolutions for 2013.

 

I feel when I do make resolutions that I'm setting myself up to feel bad if I don't stay true to the resolution, no matter what it is.

 

Instead, my goal is to try and treat each day as if it were a "new year" and do my best.  I expect that sometimes I will achieve my best in those twenty-four hours and sometimes I will not come even close.

 

But the next day will be a new day and an opportunity to try once again to put myself out there!

 

My inspiration for today is the following quote from one of my favorite authors:

"The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself!

                                 ~ Anna Quindlen, Pulitzer Prize winning jounalist and bestselling author

Ash Wednesday

I hope everyone had a blast yesterday at whatever Mardi Gras event you might have attended for today is Ash Wednesday.  You might have let the good times roll too much and are feeling  some pain and discomfort today from too much alcohol, food or lack of sleep but the good news is that you can offer it up as your lenten penance.

OMG, doesn't that sound like something a Catholic school nun would have told you?

For those of you who are not Catholic, today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, a season of fasting and self-denial.  You'll be able to tell who the Catholics are today because we are the ones walking around looking like we might have been playing around in an ashtray and mistakenly put the ashes on our foreheads.  We have ashes pressed on our foreheads in the sign of the cross by a priest at the beginning of Lent to remind us that eventually we will all die and turn into ashes -- ashes to ashes, dust to dust -- and Jesus is our salvation.

Lent is a time of reflection and penance in preparation for Christ's Resurrection on Easter Sunday.  Usually people give up something they really like a lot for Lent but you can also choose to work on something about yourself that needs improvement.  In my case, the list of things that could be improved is endless!

Over this past weekend, I was visiting my son in New York and he was talking about either giving up chocolate for Lent or doing something that would require personal improvement.  I, of course, hadn't thought about Lent at all and I was surprised he was even thinking of Lent.  Or maybe he brought it up to let me think he was doing something for Lent.  Anyway, he said wasn't sure what he was going to do and asked me what I had planned.

I told him that when I was in school I always gave up candy.  The idea of going 40 days without anything sweet always seemed impossible.  But then some relative told me that there was some new Catholic rule and on the Sundays in Lent we were now allowed to do or eat the thing that we had committed to as a Lenten goal and that kindof blew the lid off Lent for me.  Lent didn't seem so dark and punishing when I knew I only had to go from Sunday to Sunday.

Lent also brings back lots of childhood memories.  If you went to Catholic school then you will probably also remember how you thought that the weekly Stations of the Cross would go on forever in a hot church filled with children and teachers, the smell of tuna and egg salad sandwiches in your classroom told you it was Friday since meat was not allowed to be eaten on that day, fasting and saying the rosary for hours on numb knees and "might" boxes to save money for the poor.

I have no idea what my son decided to do for Lent but I know for me it's harder to work on a personal flaw than give something up.  During this year's Lent I will be working on patience.  This year's flaws were a toss up between not cursing and patience and patience won.  If you think that sounds easy then you should try driving in the DC metropolitan area during morning or evening rush hour.  Patience is totally a virtue that is not found in any driver.

But I'm hoping for the best and wishing everyone good luck in whatever they decide to do for Lent!