I’ve come to believe strongly that we are all connected….the earth, the sky, the rock, the animal, the person.

I’m finding myself in nature and the beauty and wonder of it all. How things work together…how the circle of life keeps on turning.

That things can be questioned….that each of us is on our own journey and no two of us are alike.

I’m finding things more beautiful, I see more clarity and I feel….empowered!

This is a journey I’m eager to continue.

But, you know, sometimes, things are just meant to be. some boulders need to block our paths in order for us to find a new one. Sometimes, the old paths are worn out and will only confuse us more.

It’s always hard to start over on something new, and those who know me, know how I hate change but still agree that it’s a necessary part of our journeys. Ugh! I really do hate that, but, I must admit, that once I’m done complaining and protesting and questioning change, things really do turn out ok, I suppose.

So yes, I either climb over this darn big ugly rock and continue fighting for a path that has just been washed out and really not there anymore, or…..look for that new path. Maybe even make my own. It’s not all black and white. I’ve learned there are many ways to live our lives and achieve our dreams, happiness, and security.

It’s something we all have to do pretty much solo, but we can get some help if we’re open to suggestions, advice and ideas.

Ok, so, good bye old path. You’ve served me well, broke my heart, built me up, and tore me down. But, I am stronger. I let you teach me, good, bad and in between. Thank you, but, Ive overstayed my welcome, I have been so comfortable with you.

Now, it’s time to step out of that comfort zone and get onto a new unknown adventure. I will take everything I’ve learned on my travels with you and apply them to my new adventure, whatever that may be.

I have learned on your path that I am dying to live, not living to die.

So now, off I go to live some more.

Damn, I thought, there goes my eyes for the next few days, certainly NOT a fashion statement, puffy red eyes, even make-up makes it look worse!

Then I figured,”what the hell” Obviously i needed to let loose and just plain weep my butt off.

I wept for the emptiness I feel now my babies are grown

I wept for the loss of my Daddy,

I wept for the loss of my figure, and smooth fresh skin, lame I know

I wept for all of those past years where you always say “I should of, could of…but, why didn’t I”

I wept for the days when the everything seemed so easy

I wept for the days when I wasn’t afraid of anything

But after I cried , I realised, Im greatfull for having the opportunity to be a Mommy,

Im greatful I had a Daddy

Im greatfull that even though Im not slim and svelt anymore..round is still a figure right?
And as for my skin..I am greatfull to Elizabeth Arden,

Im greatfull, for doing what I could and what I did,

Im greatfull that i found out that things arent that easy..it means  grew up,

Im greatfull that i do know fear..it keeps me in line.

See? Sometimes, you just need a good old cry to put things in perspective!

I used to pray that I would at least live long enough to be able to raise my children, you see, they were my whole world. Nothing else defined me or what I wanted to be but a mother. I had to be able to finish that job, and the thought of me not being able to do that…well, lets just say it made me lie awake at night at times.

My dad got sick just over 3 years ago. That last Christmas…I never thought it would be the last because, like dying myself, before my children were grown, the death of my parents was yet another unthinkable.

My sisters and brother and I could all see he had gotten so thin, he wasn’t his usual happy go lucky singing self, he didn’t fill his plate up with food, recite his corny jokes etc. He was tired, thin…not himself. Of course he kept saying as he had been for months that it was” only a cold.” I remember when I got home, i immediately called my sister and we talked about it. One or both of us called our mom at some point that week and spoke with her.She agreed, but , Dad was stubborn, went to the doctors alone and Mom only knew what he told her..that it was “only a cold”.

With some crafty work on my Moms part, she was able to trick him into going to her doctor who did some X-rays.

We next saw Dad at my Nephews birthday party, there was no “news” as of yet except that he definitely had emphysema. This time, he was so much worse. He slept most of the family gathering away, his face was gray. Not the grandfather that always got down on the floor and played with the little ones, let me tell you, there WAS something wrong!

I believe it was the next week on a Friday, I was at work when my sister called me to tell me that Dads X-rays showed a mass in his chest. They were at the hospital at that point to relieve fluid that had built up making it very difficult for Dad. How long did he live like that..quietly suffering i always ask myself?

My husband and I rushed to the hospital, there was dear old Dad, laughing, smiling, joking away. He was back..kind of anyways.with hid family around him,  we were all told that he had lung cancer, I believe it was stage 4 at that point. the mass was right in between his lungs and they couldn’t operate. They suggested radiation, followed by chemo, but made sure we understood, this was bleak! Basically we were looking at “maybe a year?”

Of course, I didn’t buy it. How could I…someone who could not, would not look at accept, think about death. Especially, come on..my Dad? A very central part of my whole life? No! Hell no! I just wasn’t having any of that at all.

I remember that when the doctors were talking to us, Dad still, seemed to kind of , I dont know, not seem shattered? I often wonder, was he masking those feelings for us? How does one feel when youre being told, you Sir, are living on borrowed time?

Dad spent a few days in the hospital, was treated like the king he was and then came home. I remember how impressed he was that on a Sunday, the doctors transported him by ambulance and opened up the cancer center to administer his first dose of radiation.

Anyways, Dad returned home and my two sisters, and brother and I were at my parents house constantly. Anything we could do, from food to back rubs, watching movies. just spending time. It really and truly turned all of our lives upside down. You see, in my family, we didn’t spend every day together or even talk every day..we just always knew we were there for each other for good, bad and ugly, not really ordinary everyday things. See, we all embrace our alone time…we love to be home, in comfy clothing lounging on the couch, puttering etc..boring, I know, but thats us none the less.

Anyways, to get back to Dad coming home..all of a sudden my sisters, brother and I were not home in our spare time, puttering, we were always at Mom and Dads. I mean what a big change for them two hermits as well..all of a sudden their quiet home was turned into a social gathering ona daily basis.It had to be hard adjustment for them, especially my Mom. Shes a quiet, reserved kind of person. Like me, loves her space and alone time. That was all gone.

Obviously, things just kept going downhill for Dad, there was always one blow after another. The radiation made him really

tired, he lost his appetite and thats a bad thing, because for many of us in my family, we reallyenjoy eating! He was in and out of the hospital, from dehydration, to life threatening infections. Dad was getting weaker and weaker and fast!Chemo….he went through one time. I swear thats what did him in…would it have been longer or quicker without it? who the heck knows. All I know is that he was sent home from the hospital that last time for “respite care”…hospice. He was coming home to die. I remember sitting with my Mom and Sister and Dad in Dads hospital room, when a Hospice worker came in to talk to him..to us. Dad had his head under the blanket of his hospitol bed and I believe, he pretended to be asleep. Again, Dad was not going to show any kind of tear jerking emotion in front of us.

Still,I didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t accept, death.

We went back to Mom and Dads house and got everything ready for Dad to come home. The living room was turned into Dads room. You know, once he came home, thats basically where he stayed, in bed, all the time.
At this point, he ha been catheterized as he was too week to keep getting up to go to the bathroom. He was on oxygen, and other meds.He had a health aide every day from hospice that took care of his personal needs. A great guy..Moe, and even better he was French Canadian like Dad! Oh how they talked and laughed, we were truly blessed to have Moe.

I was there daily, watching the weakness, watching him catch his breath as he was talking, watching him eat less and less, watching him whither away…yet…I still clung to his life. He would get better. Even as I watched that damned catheter bag becoming emptier as well as a darker colored urine..Nope..hes gonna get better. He was just having another bad episode and would pull through…

Dad died about 5 months after his diagnosis.I was there. My Mom was there. My Aunt his sister was there, my Sister was there. And, thankfully, Moe was there.

When Moe said”He’s gone”. I screamed “NO”, and “Daddy”…I dont know what else, but Moe and my Mother ha me go back into his room and tell him that…it…was…ok…to…go……

I guess, according to Mom and Moe, when I cried out, Dads pulse had come back, he was fighting ,they said I had to say it was ok to leave us. Did I want to? Hell no! Why the heck would ?I want to say, “Sure, its alright..go on now”

Something inside me, told me I really did have to do it. I went in, held my Dads hand and told him I loved him, it was ok for him to go where there was no more pain, we would all be alright. And..he did.

Since then, Ive thought of death alot. My children are grown now, by the way, my son  will be 27 this year and my daughter is 20. They are fully capable of taking care of themselves. My job, my prayers, were answered. Now what?

How can I NOT think about death now. Now, that its hit me so close, now that one day people are here and the next..poof! they are gone. Now that my children are adults.

See, I have no choice anymore but to look at it. My God its all around me…daily.Its not like Im an old woman who has lost nearly everyone..Im not even 45 yet..

My Dads gone, my Moms alone, my children are grown…..my foundation has fallen. And dont even get me started on how all this affects or affected others…believe me, I worry about that too.

Death….gone….no more..never again…forever.

FOREVER.

FINAL.

Every day I wonder, “Will it be today?” or I think…what could have possibly have been going through my Dads mind as he was awaiting his death. Something we all have to do alone. What is it really like? Where do we really go?Is there a Heaven, Hell Pugatory…where will I go? Will everyone really be reunited? Can those that have passed on, still see us, feel us?What have I done to be remembered by? Was I, am I good enough? I dont want to go somewhere that I dont know where im going..why cant someone tell me that has been through it?

I look at my animals that are getting older, I see the white on my dogs muzzles..I see my kitty’s getting older, skinnier. I see new wrinkles on me, on everyone. I dont feel like that young kid anymore now that I think of these things, have experienced …Does that finally make me an adult? Finally?

Sometimes, I go out on to my backyard deck at night and lay down in my old rickety lounger and just look up at the skies. The stars are amazing..the clouds. I look forward to each new season and appreciate nature much more. I appreciate life more.

When Im around people I hope to treat them respectfully and with kindness, I think”This is a living being, their life is precious and tomorrow, they may be gone”. I think more.Does this happen to everyone when they get a bit older? Is it because we are in between? By that I mean, we are no longer children, yet we are not elderly. We are stuck in between. Hmm, does that even make any sense?

I wrote way much more than I intended, it just kind of dawned on me today when my husband and I were at a friends tag sale. A real sweet heart of a guy, who’s mom had died. He was cleaning out her house and having a tag sale. There were so many memories I felt, rifling through her things.I imagined my friend as a child with his mom and family, and then I thought of myself as a chill with my own family. I thought of just how fast it all goes by and how much we dont get it..we dont appreciate every breath we take. How we never know when our ticket is up. I used to think..only very old people died for the most part, now I know thats not true. That people will continue to leave me, others will suffer the same loss and that yes, someday, I too, will die.

I dont want to spend my life thinking or worrying about when, how, what next…I just want to be happy when I wake up every morning..happy that Im breathing one more day, happy that my loved ones are still breathing, still alive. I want to cherish each and everything because now that I was forced to look death in the eye…now that I cant brush away those thoughts like I used to no matter how hard I try, I KNOW now, that we are all…living on borrowed time. That clock is ticking and I want to hear it tick for as long as I can. Not only my clock, but those I love. I now know and have learned how important it is to live like its your last day.

Thankyou Dad for showing me how really and truly beautiful nature really is. How amazing it is in the spring, when you can look out your window, and really enjoy, and appreciate that blooming bush of flowers and the birds that are playing in it.

Lately, Ive been trying pretty hard to wake up with more optimism. They have that silly saying about “today being a gift that is yet unopened”. I guess it’s not really that silly is it after all. Sometimes though, it’s pretty hard to be so optimistic in this world where everything around you looks so bleak. I have to take breaks from watching the news because its so damned depressing. Wars, famine, wildfires, devastating storms, poverty, illness..the list goes on and on and on. I swear sometimes, I just get this feeling of what I call “Doomdome” in the pit of my stomache. I actually feel ill physically as well as emotionally. So, wheres the gift right? What a pessamistic thought, right?

Well, I think today I’m going to look at this gift of life, another day, and be greatful for the family and friends I have, my lovely pets that always make me smile..The fact that I have food, clothing, a roof over my head.

So many people have nobody and nothing. I think of the many elderly people out there who have lived so many years. Led productive lives, had family and friends…and now?  Well, from what I see personally, alot of elders grow old and are alone. Family and friends have passed on, all the years of work they have done, and many still cant pay for perscription medicines that they desperatly need…food even, heat in the winter. Its disgusting to me that we can allow this to happen. Today, I will think of that and not only be greatful for what I have but also see if there might be something I can do for an elder in need.

Next time youre out shopping or walking around and you see an elderly person…dont forget to smile at them…it may make their day a whole lot brighter.

And that, my friends can also be considered a gift.

Sometimes, its not about the lyrics, it’s about the music, the sound that pounds itself into your very being and moves your soul.

Sometimes, it’s not really about before, it’s about how you feel about it now and how your thoughts can change about it from year to year.

Sometimes, its not about being right here, it’s about feeling like you’re right there.

Sometimes, its not about the kind of wood you used, but how sturdy you’ve built your structure.

Sometimes, its not that you are not you, its that you dont recognize yourself.

Sometimes, things happen that you think will kill you, but you live on and question things over and over again..about things you will never know the answers to.

Sometimes, you wonder why you write silly little things, and you ask yourself…did that really matter?

Ok, so, now its time for me to pick up the pen …..pound the keys, yet again!

Lets see where this journey will send me.