grief | Change Is Hard

February 23, 2017
by dawnkinster 25 Comments

Reflections

Sitting here in the house that dad built I can’t help but keep one eye, sometimes both eyes, on the water.

Sure the lake level is low, as it is every winter, making it difficult to enjoy this huge lake, but just our little part right here is beautiful.

And it’s always changing. The light moves and twinkles and shifts and the water ruffles and calms.

I have lots of time to sit and reflect as the sun goes down and the shadows lengthen across the slew.

I wish my parents were here. But the house is still filled with their presence. Not the same of course, as having them physically here.

But not as sad as it was in the beginning.

Lots of good memories flit through my mind as I watch the water shift in the changing light.

We’re lucky they left us this place. I think they’re glad we come to visit.

But I bet they miss us all too.

January 6, 2017
by dawnkinster 30 Comments

I’ve alluded to stressful times around here recently. We’ve had lots of unexpected and unplanned things to deal with lately. I guess I shouldn’t have expected that retirement would be all golden beaches, blue skies and fruity drinks.

This morning I left early, heading over to my physical therapy appointment a couple of towns to the west. The sky was pretty, big clouds with purple bottoms piling up. I wished I was out with the camera instead of going to PT.

Once that appointment was over, my shoulder iced (which is the best part of my day) I head over to my gym, a couple of towns to the east, intent on getting some cardio in. The sky is filled with more beautiful clouds. I consider heading home for my camera, skipping the gym and the visit to the nursing home.

I debate doing something I want to do v.s. doing the thing I should do.

At the gym I walk three minutes, run one minute, repeat about 11 times on one of the treadmills. It’s an attempt to get back to running after many years of slothful living. But one minute is about all I can run without my heart rate soaring above it’s max rate. Still, I’m pleased I stuck to the plan.

Sweaty I headed to the locker room and dress in layers to head back outside into the 10 degree day. The blast of cold air actually feels good pulling at my sweat soaked hair. It’s afternoon now and I’m hungry. I could stop by MacDonalds….but I only spent 340 calories in my three mile walk/run, and I could waste that in an instant if I’m not careful.

I buy a cup of chicken noodle soup (130 calories) there, and sip it in the parking lot of the nursing home. I burn my tongue, as I always do when I’m trying to hurry.

Inside I visit with Aunt Vi who at 101 is not happy to have given up her own home. She says she’s doing worse today than yesterday, but to me she seems pretty good, though confused about tests she’s having done. More family members arrive, and we spend a bit of time talking, even laughing, but receive no explanation to the pain she’s experiencing.

It’s frustrating.

Glancing at my watch I realize time has flown and I must fly too in order to get dinner into the oven at home. As I prepare the meal I update the husband on the aunt’s status. It’s so hard to know what to do. Everyone wants the best for her, but it’s hard to find that within the health care system.

And then I notice the headlines rolling across the television across the room. The sound is down and I’ve been talking about our daily stresses, not paying attention.

Five dead in the Fort Lauderdale airport. Another shooting. More terror, more grief, more confusion, more debate. I note that the radio playing during my drive home hadn’t mentioned it. The stock market didn’t blink and Wall Street analysts don’t mention the tragedy. They’re talking about the agony of the Dow being within .37 of 20,000.

We have become immune.

My day, filled with stress, seems pretty straight forward now, and in fact quite good. My shoulder didn’t hurt. I got my workout in. Aunt Vi spent some time laughing.

And I recognize I should be grateful.

PS: The latest test shows she might have a gall bladder problem. We and she are headed to the hospital now. Still, we’re grateful for an answer.

January 1, 2017
by dawnkinster 29 Comments

A New Year Begins

It’s 4:30 a.m. and Katie the dog wants to go out. Just like every morning, her timing is meticulously accurate. I shake the sleep from my eyes as she shakes the tags on her collar and together we stumble to the front door where she prances impatiently as I don shoes and coat and gloves.

And then we step out into the blackness that is early morning.

Deep silence surrounds us. No cars out on the freeway, no stirring in the neighborhood. Only the far away wail of a train intrudes on the thick blanket of quiet. I whisper to her, unwilling to pierce the silence myself, to find a good spot as we wander the yard.

Almost directly overhead is the big dipper, sitting upside down, spilling good wishes down upon us. Orion’s belt has long since gone to bed. “Hi Dad,” I whisper. “Here’s to a New Year. Another one starting without you and mom.”

And then I pause, a bit of happiness floating from me up to him. “Well, not really without you…I feel you right here. See you tomorrow morning…say hi to Mom”

Katie and I head silently back to the house. At the front porch she stands on her back legs asking to be picked up. I do, picking up her awkwardly lopsided bobble-headed cone encased self and give her a tight hug and a kiss.

“Happy New Year baby-girl, Happy New Year.”

Happy New Year mama!

December 23, 2016
by dawnkinster 10 Comments

12 years ago today.

Dad's favorite place to be was on a boat.

Dad’s favorite place to be — on a boat.

I wasn’t going to write about this. That today is another anniversary of the semitruck crash that took our remaining parent.

Big brother

But today I seem to be blocked and unable to write about anything else.

One of my favorite of his childhood pictures.

One of my favorites of his childhood pictures.

And so I will mark the day so that I can move forward. Not move on, because that implies that I leave him behind, but forward.

Young man growing up to be a dad.

Today I am moving forward with him, and mom, always with me.

Merry Christmas you two.

December 2, 2016
by dawnkinster 29 Comments

College dorm

Visiting her at the nursing home we talked about how difficult it is for her to adjust to her new life. Rules and roommates, the shared bathroom, the shower room down the hall.

“Sounds like you’re back in college and living in a dorm.” I laughed. “You just need to find some boys and a keg of beer and you’re good to go.”

She laughed too, but then her smile faded.

“It’s hard” she said. “There’s so much to learn here and that’s not easy when you’re a hundred and one!”

“You can do it,” I replied. “And I expect by next week you’ll be learning Italian.”

She laughed again. And then she said it. “Change is hard.”

I nodded in agreement. Yes, it certainly is.

Her bird, Charlie, aka Buddy, died this week, while in the care of a friend back at the apartment building. Maybe he died of a broken heart. Maybe he just got old. Regardless, it is another loss for her to absorb.

Loss after loss. She is strong, has been for 101 years. But this is a lot, would be a lot for anyone.

She says it best. “It’s hell to get old.”

RIP Buddy.

November 29, 2016
by dawnkinster 2 Comments

Giving Tuesday

Dad at my wedding in 1990

Today is Giving Tuesday, a day to remind people to donate to charitable organizations. I’d like to plead the case for donating to the Truck Safety Coalition.

Many of you already know this organization because of all my posts about Dad who was killed by a tired trucker December 23, 2004. We’re coming up on the anniversary again, and though it’s twelve years now, it seems like yesterday that my family’s world was turned upside down.

Back then we weren’t sure what had happened to us, or why, but we knew it wasn’t right. And the more we learned, about the long hours truck drivers work, the conditions they work under, the more we realized it was something we wanted to help fix.

Just like Dad always fixed stuff for us.

TSC is the only organization singularly devoted to supporting victims of truck crashes as well as the families and friends who have lost a loved one in a truck crash. I encourage you to go to their website to learn more about all the supportive programs and advocacy in which the Truck Safety Coalition is involved.

Please donate to TSC this Giving Tuesday by clicking here (http://trucksafety.org/get-involved/donate/) to help make a difference in the lives of people dealing with tragic crashes and to help save lives by improving highway safety for everyone, including those driving commercial trucks.

If you were to talk to any of the families volunteering for TSC they’d tell you that they work for safety to honor their loved ones and to keep other families from suffering the same tragedy they cope with every day.

Please join us as we stand for safety.

And thank you very much for all the emotional support you’ve provided my own family over the years. We couldn’t have made it through without all of you.

Grew up to be my Dad.

October 4, 2016
by dawnkinster 8 Comments

Happy Anniversary

Point Betsie Lighthouse stands in for my folks.

My parents’ 1952 honeymoon was spent camping in northern Michigan. One of their favorite places was near Frankfort — Point Betsie and it’s beautiful lighthouse.

And so, over the years, it has become one of my favorite places too. I visit when I’m up in that part of the country, sometimes for only a minute or two, sometimes for a longer walk.

Before kids.

I stopped on my way home from Northport last week. It was a pretty day with blue skies and high white clouds. The waves lapped peacefully, the sun made the red roof glow. As always I spent a few moments imaging my parents there, years before I was born, enjoying each other and the beautiful lake.

I thought about how young they were, how they had no idea they’d have four children or that they’d run a small business. They didn’t know that someday they’d move away from the lakes and the state they loved, far from their family, and that they’d settle on another pretty lake in a faraway state and enjoy it almost as much. Way back then they never dreamed they’d live in the South or that most of their children would follow them there.

But I know they hoped they would live happy, contented and fulfilled lives.

Empty nesters back at their favorite lake.

And they did.

Today is their 64th wedding anniversary. I like to think they’re enjoying each other and a beautiful view — maybe even a gorgeous lake with a lighthouse standing tall behind them.

And I like to think they are happy with the way things turned out even though their lives were shorter than any of us wished. I know they are proud of us and happiest when we are happy. So I guess the best anniversary gift we can give them is to enjoy and be content with the lives we are living today.

And to make every day count. Because you just never know.

Happy 64th anniversary Mom and Dad.

We miss you.

Always there.

September 9, 2016
by dawnkinster 8 Comments

Food relationships unrelated

I suppose one of the downfalls of a vegan wantabe is learning what all this stuff is. At the beginning of the experiment I enthusiastically roamed a health food grocery store, buying this and that, scooping things into plastic bags, filling out the tags on the twist ties with product numbers so the cashier could ring them up. Odds are the cashiers didn’t need the numbers, but I should have written the names on the tags. For me.

Wonder what these are?

Weeks later I know that the dark one is chia seeds but I don’t remember if those little white things were in there before or if they are…ummm…eggs? And the lighter brown I know is steel cut oatmeal that I keep meaning to try. But the medium brown? I went to my regular grocery store, located much closer to home than the natural store where these were purchased, and I think that brown stuff is ground flax. Maybe.

I visited Aunt Vi this week. She’ll be 101 at the end of September. She was feeling OK but not great. I took her homemade cream of broccoli soup because she loves brocolli. We laughed about how few people like the little green trees, including the first President Bush. I noted as I was leaving that she didn’t have anything sweet to eat. No cookies, no cake. No pie. She likes something sweet at night.

I believe a woman who is almost 101 deserves to have something sweet available. So this morning I got out the bowl and my grandmother’s spoon and made old fashioned molasses cookies, thinking about Aunt Vi and my own grandmother. I’ll take them to her this afternoon on my way down to that natural food store for more healthy stuff.

Yum. Ginger and cloves and cinnamon. And molasses. Of course.

And while I was making the cookies I reached into the silverware drawer for a smaller spoon, something to scoop a little sugar into a bowl to roll the cookies in before baking. My fingers closed around my mom’s spoon, one of several she had with a distinctive corn motif. They’re split up among all of us ‘kids’ now.

Hey Mom.

As I looked at the spoon I paused, the loss suddenly so overwhelming that breathing was all I could do. And then it was OK again and I finished rolling the cookies. They’re cooling now, getting ready to make a 101 year young lady smile tonight.

Food and relationships and memories all moving forward into my new world of unidentifiable ingredients. Food. It’s not just for eating. Sometimes it’s for reminiscing.

August 14, 2016
by dawnkinster 9 Comments

Remembering our friend Ludo

We knew him as a puppy. Follow the link to read his first post, introducing himself to all of us. What a cutie! He was one of our first blogging doggy friends eight years ago. We loved reading about his adventures with his mum and dad and his rabbitdog siblings.

Ludo Ludwig Van Puppy

We watched him grow up — into a handsome, fun loving, adventuring dog. He loved his Mum and TNP (his dad) so very much. In fact he got to attend their wedding!

Ludo loves on his dad.

And he came to love his little brother Arran too, even though we all know little brothers can be a bit of a bother sometimes.

Ludo and his little brother Arran.

Ludo liked to take us along on his vacation adventures, and through him we got to see a lot of the Lake District in the UK. His parents were always careful to choose dog friendly locations including restaurants and hotels. Ludo was a very very lucky boy; he got to visit some of the most beautiful country I’ve ever seen.

Ludo shared stunning country with us all.

Ludo shared his stunning country with us all.

And it was always special to see it through his eyes.

And did I tell you he won awards in agility? He loved to run and jump, especially with his mum.

Ludo could fly!

He even got to go camping at agility events! Katie says she’s glad Ludo got to camp, it’s a truly special thing to do with your folks.

Camping is so much fun!

Ludo enjoyed holidays too. Especially Crispmas. He liked to celebrate with his family and always wished us good holiday cheer. Crispmas just won’t be the same now.

Ludo and Arran and the rabbitdogs pose for Crispmas.

But most of all Ludo loved running along the sea, getting his furs salty and wet. Chasing his ball. Chasing the waves.

Just chasing life.

Gotta get those waves!

Ludo only got to live eight years. It wasn’t enough for any of us, especially for his mum Dee and his dad Richard. Though we knew he was fighting cancer we all hoped he could stick around a few more months. Years maybe if we were lucky. But it was not to be and Ludo went on to his next adventure beyond the rainbow bridge last month.

Hurro! It’s me Ludo!

Ludo carefully taught Arran all the important things about being a sheltie. How to ask for treats, to get the best belly rubs, to chase a ball. How to tilt a head for the best effect and make the humans smile. And now he’s taught us, once again, how to smile through our tears.

Any treats up there?

Eight years was not enough. We all wanted to watch Ludo’s antics forever. We all wanted the bad cancer stuff to go away. But he had become uncomfortable and his parents made the oh so difficult decision to let him fly. Now he’s running, forever free, by his beloved sea chasing the waves and barking with joy. It’s the way I’ll always remember Ludo.

He’s not so far away. He’s right there in our hearts where we can visit him whenever we need a glimpse of his silly handsome face.

Handsome birthday boy.

Thank you Ludo, for sharing your life with us. And thank you Dee and Richard for facilitating that sharing. Ludo was magical. And magic lasts forever.

Hugs.

See you again someday sweetie.

Note: All photos were taken by Dee or Richard. Wedding photo taken by their professional wedding photographer.

August 11, 2016
by dawnkinster 6 Comments

Happy Birthday Mom

At Gulf Shores AL

Your birthday snuck up on me again this year. I used to know it was coming, used to shop for the perfect card to send, used to plan exactly which day to drop it in the mail so that it arrived on your day.

Used to.

Now I’m more likely to realize it’s August 11 when I hear on the news about the Perseid meteor showers which always lit up the sky on your birthday. Like your own personal fireworks.

Happy 88th birthday Mom. It’s been twelve years since I’ve mailed a card to you. But I’m sure you know that we’re thinking about you on this and every day. I bet you knew we were all together last week at the home you and Dad built. We had a good time at the lake.

But it would have been better if you’d both been there too.

High School Senior

Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Tag Archives: grief