My Heart to You

It has been so long that I have truly written here, that I barely knew my sign-in name. 2011 held my most profound moments and emotions.  I do come here, to look at how many people have visited and from where in the world they came.  This was an amateur blog, written from the heart.  I also come here to read.  Sometimes, I can read only little bits at a time; other times, I read through everything like a novel.  First, I remember every feeling and moment.  Second, I see others that I approached to contribute their writing's and also know many have passed away.  Third, I notice my lack of editing and grammatical errors.  

Still, I notice that over 15,000 people have come here.  Some, just due to a google question that went wrong.  Even if that were half of the people who came, both halves matter.  

I have barely started writing again.  This place, I was so honest and raw, that it has been hard to write again.  I have been busy, trying to find my own spirit and supporting my children.  But, when I come here to read, I know that I was honest.  This disease.  Not everyone who has Pulmonary Fibrosis has the same experience and some make different choices, plus, it is a different time.  

For my husband, this has been the most truthful account from someone who loved him.  I still do.  Love him.  The words I write are not just for the sake of raising awareness, but instead; I am a writer, that writes about difficult experiences that have come to me personally.

Thank You for coming here.  Don't be discouraged.  No matter what, reflect outward in the way that is most creative and beautiful to you.

The things I tend to read on my blog are from this period of time.  If you want to go further back, hit- Older Posts, at the bottom of the page. This represents my heart the most and is what I have the hardest time reading, but am still thankful to have every experience associated with my husband and family. 

It is a love story that I hope you read...http://breathingair1.blogspot.com/2011

~~Breathing

Since You've Been Gone~ 5 Years

Well, Honey, here we are at the 5 year mark since you passed away.  It is just you, me, and time here to commemorate this occasion.  Not sure what to do.  A part of me wishes we could raise our glasses and make a toast.  Maybe to wish each other some form of congratulation.  It really should be that way.  It may sound strange, us, clinking glasses to your leaving this world.  All I know is, I was able to survive thus far, and that has got to be worth something…

I mean, it hasn’t been easy.  Trying to embrace life became my own battle of survival.  I don’t think I am all the way there yet.  Not sure anyone gets “all the way there” in this world.  But, I have come a long way, went out on a limb or two and took some chances.  I learned to laugh in rough situations.  Began to think about my future and make decisions for me. 

As you already know, I tried dating this last year.  Only one person, and you know that took a lot for me as I have not been with anyone since you.  It was, shall I say, interesting?  I didn’t stay closed off and I opened my heart, so I am proud of me for that.  It was nice to feel pretty in someone’s eyes again. 

Still, I will never forget your eyes.  How blue and sparkly they were, the way I could see your love for me within them.  So far, Baby, you have been the best man that I have known.  Such a stand up person.  I don’t overly romanticize our love, because I also remember the look in your eyes all those times I annoyed you as well.  I still wish you were here.  I still draw hearts on my misty bathroom mirror for you.  This morning I saw the snow fall, in big heavy flakes, and my heart went to thoughts of you.

Everything I do, from raising the children, to taking care of our home and even opening my heart, I still feel that you are my confidant.  You are the person who really knows what’s going on and what it takes for me to do these things.  I believe that you help guide me.  Thank You for that.  Even though you died, I know you never truly left me. 

Let’s raise our glasses, Baby, and make a toast.  First, To Life~ which brought us together, what an amazing thing life is!   In its complete beauty that people and their generous spirits can impact the hearts of so many others.    To Us, My Darling~ and all the things we have accomplished and are still working towards no matter how simple, profound, easy, or difficult.  And Finally, To You~ for guiding me along, never abandoning me, and to your beautiful blue eyes.  

Until we meet again, my love,

~Breathing

Since You've Been Gone~ 4 Years

Hey Babe,

It is hard to believe that 4 years have passed since you left us.  In a way, I know your not very far away and I can feel your gentle support as I make my way through life.  

When you first left, I remember sleeping.  I slept as I never had and someways, now that I think about it, I probably sleep-walked through the entire first year.  It was probably my body's way of recovering.  As time passed, I, then had trouble sleeping without you.  Staying up to the wee hours of the night and awakening before dawn.  Each day was always a reminder that you were not there.  

I made it a point to take road trips.  Less about the destination and more about the desire to prove to myself that I was a capable woman.  During the second year, I got myself a camera.  Nothing too expensive, but it suits me fine.  Since then, my camera has been my little companion.  I have always been creative, but when we went through your illness, I wondered if that part of myself had been lost.  It might sound strange but the camera saved my life.  I enjoy the beauty that unfolds each day and I enjoy the patience of photography. Being still.  

I still have a hard time with what seems like our shrinking family.  My oldest is now out on his own, following his dreams and working hard at it.  The youngest, is a teenager now.  Very thoughtful and attentive, although, as you know with teenagers, that only can go so far as they really need their space.  I try to remind myself not to rely too much on him and to learn to find contentment in my own space.  It is something I work on daily.  It is scary to think that I am completely on my own.  I think the hardest part about it is not being able to share things with another who understands me.  Certain thoughts and experiences to only be kept to myself.  I have found though, there is a beauty in learning to thrive within the serenity of my own soul.  

I have taken a few chances.  Recently, I bought a very old cottage to renovate.  One day, it might be my downsized home.  When I am there, I feel happy.  There is something about having a home that is just mine.  It is the first place that I have owned that I have not shared in raising a family, or as a married person. Lately, I go there and paint on a canvas.  Just simple abstract stuff.  But, again, that is another thing that I stopped doing when we went through your illness. It feels really good to blast music and just mindlessly paint.  It seems cleansing and healthy to me.  

I am trying to make the conscious effort to be a healthy person.  Not necessarily physically, although that is also coming along.  But more about, up here, in my head.  One of the best things I did recently is decide, that I do not want to be a martyr.  Yes, I am a widow, and yes, only you and I know the ways in which I still grieve.  At the same time, I have chosen not to be "In Mourning" my entire life.  It was a personal choice that needed to be made.  Since for whatever reason, I happen to still be walking on this Earth, should I allow my entire existence to be determined by your death?  I want to celebrate in my existence.  For instance, everyday, I have been playing music.  Recently, I started to dance to the music.  Really dance.  To feel my body come alive, to feel sexy, female again, elevated my heart.  I did this without guilt.  I found myself happy for a moment and I have decided that is okay.  I am still here, still ~Breathing.

I love you, Baby.     

I'd Be Lying

If I said I had never been in love

I'd be lying, 

Sailing on an open road,

Beneath a blanket of stars,

Glimmering light reflect in our eyes,

Unspoken secrets dance in our hearts,

Whisper trust,

Between promising souls,

If I said I had never been in love,

I'd be lying.

If I said I didn't miss you

I'd be lying,

Mapping lines around your eyes,

Lost in the turn of your smile,

Intertwined and connected,

Your hand in mine,

If I said I didn't miss you, 

I'd be lying.

If I said I didn't believe in you,

I'd be lying.

Between the grey and blues,

A night bird coos,

Familiar melodies floating in air,

On softness of moonlight,

I know you're there,

If I said I didn't believe in you,

I'd be lying.

Happy Anniversary, Baby.  I miss you.

~Breathing~

L O V E

"If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life."

Oscar Wilde

Dear Darling, Happy Valentine's Day.  It has been three years and two months since I have kissed you.  I miss you, Babe.  I dream of you often.  As the years have passed~ Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter continue to flow as scheduled.  The children are growing, fine young people.  Our home, still safe and comforting.  The river so surreal, a beautiful gift everyday.  Sunrise and sunsets, with birds flying and making sounds.  The fish jumping upon waves of diamonds.  Clouds, kissed by light, whisper and beckon .  

The Stars, though, as beautiful as they are, To me, do not shine as brightly.  However, the Moon, is as mystical and glowing~ as ever before.  Blooming and ever-changing, like a Rose.  

I could go on and on.  Words really can't explain the transformations that occur moment by moment in the daily life.  For You, words do not have to.  You penetrate my heart, existing in all that my senses allow. ~~~Breathing~~~

“There is a time for departure, even when there is no certain place to go.” 

Tennessee William

****Hello, this is Breathing, I just wanted to Thank You for all the support you have given to Pulmonary Fibrosis, as well as me.  My 'counter' indicates 13,208 people have come to my blog, from many different countries.  I hope our family's experience has helped to raise awareness.  I do know this blog has helped me through such a difficult time.  I have shared with you our experience and have never held back, because most of this I typed in 'real-time'.  Now, I have transformed a bit since my husband's passing.  Not too much, but just enough to somehow realize that I have many thoughts that are better realized in my own time.  I will not post as much here, but anything that seems newsworthy to our cause will not be ignored.  Thank You my beautiful friends.  You show support just by coming here and reading this:

The word "pulmonary" means “lung” and the word "fibrosis" means scar tissue – similar to scars that you may have on your skin from an old injury or surgery. So, in its simplest sense, pulmonary fibrosis (PF) means scarring in the lungs. But, pulmonary fibrosis is more serious than just having a scar in your lung. In PF, the scar tissue builds up in the walls of the air sacs of the lungs, and eventually the scar tissue makes it hard for oxygen to get into your blood. Low oxygen levels (and the stiff scar tissue itself) can cause you to feel short of breath, particularly when walking and exercising.

Also, pulmonary fibrosis isn’t just one disease. It is a family of more than 200 different lung diseases that all look very much alike (see “Causes and Symptoms” below). The PF family of lung diseases falls into an even larger group of diseases called the “interstitial lung diseases.” Some interstitial lung diseases don't include scar tissue. When an interstitial lung disease includes scar tissue in the lung, we call it pulmonary fibrosis.

The most common symptoms of PF are cough and shortness of breath. Symptoms may be mild or even absent early in the disease process. As the lungs develop more scar tissue, symptoms worsen. Shortness of breath initially occurs with exercise, but as the disease progresses patients may become breathless while taking part in everyday activities, such as showering, getting dressed, speaking on the phone, or even eating.

Due to a lack of oxygen in the blood, some people with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis may also have “clubbing” of the fingertips. Clubbing is a thickening of the flesh under the fingernails, causing the nails to curve downward. It is not specific to IPF and occurs in other diseases of the lungs, heart, and liver, and can also be present at birth.

Other common symptoms of pulmonary fibrosis include:

• Chronic dry, hacking cough
• Fatigue and weakness
• Discomfort in the chest
• Loss of appetite
• Unexplained weight loss

The Pulmonary Fibrosis Foundation is here to help you understand what it means to have pulmonary fibrosis. You can always reach us through our Patient Communication Center at 844.Talk.PFF or by email at pcc@pulmonaryfibrosis.org.

~~~~For my Baby, On Valentine's Day~~~~

"FIELDS OF GOLD"

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold

So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in fields of gold

See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We'll walk in fields of gold
We'll walk in fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold
You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold

Check Your Status~ Single? Married? Or, It's Complicated Grief?

If your like me and not sure which status to check, I found an interesting article that may add some helpful insight. ~Breathing

http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/complicated-grief/basics/definition/con-20032765

So Beautiful~ Written By: Cathy Lewis

So so beautiful, the Poem~ 

I too have IPF, 

In the Hospital since march 2014, 

Diagnose 2012,

Always unaware, 

Always losing the battle, 

To continue in my effortlessly wandering journeys, 

That's what this disease do, 

It takes away the will the breathe,

To take another step effortlessly,  

On a ventilator creating 

And remembering,

As I always do,

No longer in the wind of nature's bliss,

But, now on the ventilator holding on to the blessings, 

and God's will.

~Cathy Lewis

*********From time to time, I am lucky enough to receive mail from readers. I read Cathy's comment, in regard to another poem written on the blog and felt that her comment, actually read as a poem. Eloquent and So Beautiful was her comment that I asked if I could use it on my blog. Cathy, Thank You for allowing me to publish your note and know that we all keep you in our thoughts and hearts. ~With Love, ~Breathing

Everywhere

For the man who wandered
Beautiful lost soul  
So many places on the road
One of your words when we did part, was for me to move on
Put it to start
It was everywhere that you wanted to be
Most importantly, Inside of me 

On my roams
I have seen the mountains 
Seen the sky
Not a day comes that I don't ask why
Where you are needed to be 
So far away from me

I sprinkle the dust like stars in the night
Watch as your beautiful spirit takes flight
Beneath my feet
Earth's ebony 
Soft as a whisper
From my hands the powder blew
Sweet is the breeze
As my spirit flew.

~Breathing~


Dear Hubby, How am I doing?  I hope you think I am doing alright.  You said you wanted your ashes in some of the places we have roamed.  But, I thought it was more of a joke, because you and I have been to so many places.  I don't know how I would start to do that. I have tried in my own little way to fulfill your wishes.  So far, in the last two years, you are in: Cannon Beach OR, Donner CA, "Lovers Rock" NV, Wrights Beach CA, Santa Cruz CA, Snake River ID, City of Rocks ID~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Forever Mother's Day Gift ~Pam Brewer

I was actually listening to the radio while working today for the first time since you left, Rick. I heard Trace Adkins singing, You're Gonna Miss This....it is so, so true. So, for Mother's Day, I want to just remind everybody that these times of busy~ness with your kids that just seems so hectic...it will very soon pass to never be again. 

The times you are going to events with your children or grandchildren...or, running around to events with your spouse that seem so "busy"....they will be gone forever in the blink of an eye.....looking back, if I had it to do over, I wouldn't be so worried about the next work day and make sure I went to more softball games my daughter was in....or not had "work" on my mind when attending a baseball game one of my boys was in......they literally seem gone over night to me now.....Sitting in the stands as a mother with Rick and watching....going to their plays or to their concerts.....over now.....and Rick not even here to share this feeling now with me. 

My parents, that were the best any one could have ever had..."my" mother....gone now too (and my father)....Please, remember....take..in...these moments!!!! They will be gone and not be able to be re-lived!!! I do have the memories....I cherish the times my Mom and Dad and brothers families and Rick and I and our kids, shared at the "river"...we didn't do anything special....we were together...joking around...visiting...living life..playing games...together......those are what NOBODY can take away from me....and nothing can replace! That, is my forever Mother's Day gift!

~Written By Pam Brewer

**Dear Pam, Thank You for allowing me to post your beautiful words that perfectly express the love that lives in a Mother's heart.  May your day be blessed and Happy Mother's Day to all!  ~Breathing

Since you have been gone~ 2 years, 4 months

It is Spring once more, Babe.  This year I have been much better about pulling my head out from the covers and enjoying going outside.  It still was a struggle to see that a new season has come upon us and you are not here, physically to share it with.  Sometimes, I think it was because you passed away in December, two-weeks before Christmas, and I tend to stay in that space too long.  -The space in which it is cold outside and the shortness of the day descends upon me like a shadowy cloak.  I feel invisible during that season.  The feeling is familiar and reassuring, but then, like a surprise, a new season gradually comes upon stretching sunlight into my world. Rather than hide reluctantly from it, as my previous tendency has been, I realize that it will still come and that time will move forward.   

Not a day goes by that I do not speak to you (as you know) and most of the time I hope you can hear me. The rest of the time, I am not so sure because you know I can be long winded and sometimes tend to ramble.  I think you might even know when I am going to do that before I do.  I see the signs you send me, especially all the birds, and I also feel the way you still support me and there are times I really do sense a larger, overall feeling of glowing love with the intensity that can only be from you.  I also think about the year-long period that you were sick.  The heart-breaking moments when you struggled and there was nothing I could do.  

I think about the moments that I used to step out onto the balcony and look at the stars and think that this could not be happening and I would wish with all my might that something might turn around the progression of Pulmonary Fibrosis within your body.  At that time, I also had a sense that what I was praying for was bigger than you and I, almost like I wanted to re-write the stars themselves.  

I stay involved with the Pulmonary Fibrosis community and I have to say, since you have been gone, there have been so many new names and each person has such an individual story that at times I wonder if our individual story has made any kind of a difference at all.  But then, I realize all of our stories, collectively, create's one large entity of its own.  Still, there is not a cure for the disease, although it seems as though there is more conversation regarding a variety of treatments as well as possible links as to why this disease occurs in some people.  I know you always wondered what caused it for you. 

 It even scared your best friend and co-worker enough that he, himself, went and had a CT scan while you were ill. He was afraid it was something environmental that he may have been exposed to as well.  He showed no signs of it.  Of course, he never told you that, but he let me know about the ways your illness affected him, shortly after your funeral.  Speaking of friends, I have to say that there are so many wonderful people who, unfortunately, have become familiar with Pulmonary Fibrosis, either by having it themselves, or through losing a family member to it.  I feel honored to know some of these people and am truly amazed at the support we feel for one another.  

Home is going well.  I planted 4 lilac bushes along our west fence-line and 10 more are due to arrive, soon. It was one of your favorite plants and I won't forget that one time we were sitting at our favorite hamburger shop and you were talking about the Lilac because there were a whole bunch outside.  You were saying how much you enjoyed the smell of them during spring and as you were talking, a really large gust of wind started up outside the window and the Lilacs started to lose petals from their bloom.  It looked like it was snowing Lilac.  That was right about when you wanted to discuss getting married at that exact hamburger shop!  That makes me giggle.  I still go there, but I am glad we found our own perfect spot for our wedding. 

 I think a lot about our wedding, too.  That was a perfect day ~always.  I see your face, the way it looked when I was walking down the aisle toward you.  I know the bride is supposed to be glowing, but you really had a light emulating from you and it made me want to run up the aisle to join you!  I had to pace myself.  I also remember how you got Strawberry Lace cake on the top of my wedding dress because you tried to shove the wedding cake into my face.  Not cool!

Speaking of Strawberries, I planted a whole strawberry patch!  All I could think about the whole time is how much you would have loved if I did that years ago.  We now have six, good sized rows.  I really do feel you guiding me.  It was amazing because about 3 weeks back I kept posting pictures of strawberry stuff on Breathing's Face Book page and that same week at my orthodontist appointment, the assistant and I started talking gardening and she mentioned that she is going to thin out her strawberry patch.  I said, "I'll take them!!!"  and Viola! We have baby strawberries!  

It has really been a Godsend.  Because of the strawberries, and the preparation thereof, I have been wearing my gardening hat at 8:am in the morning.  It feels good.  It feels good on the outside and on the inside.  To be out there, not caring what anyone thinks, and why should I?  I am doing what you and I loved doing together.  Boy, after losing you, I had the hardest time carrying on working in the yard because you and I spent most of our free time together doing it together.  We found it so beautiful and it almost hurt to do it without you.  The same goes for traveling.  Everywhere I went, I remembered everything we ever saw together.  And, we put on a lot of miles with each other.  When I do these things now, I feel it is when I am closest to you.  

Thank Goodness for Spring.  It literally has come to save me.  I love you so much!  ~And I will see you tomorrow in the garden.  

~Breathing

My wedding ring is on my right hand~

It has been a little over two years since my husband passed from Pulmonary Fibrosis.  There are moments that I still feel like he's coming right home and that I will see him again.  I haven't been in denial that he is gone, I don't think so anyway.  It just seems to me that acceptance comes in gradual stages.  As a matter of fact, one thing I did not realize is that while he was sick with this insidious disease, I was already in a grieving stage.  It was called anticipatory grief.  It was a feeling of great loss, even though he was still with me.  

When he passed, my mind did struggle to come to grips with never seeing him again.  My mind and heart still struggles with this.  Deep down I felt, and still do, that our love supersedes his death and that somehow our relationship continues.  I really do believe that we still have a connection and it isn't just me carrying on his memory, but it is active on both our parts because I feel him in big moments and in small.  He has been a part of my daily life, even if that meant I had to grow and become more independent.  In his death I still felt his support of me.  So, in my heart I consider myself still married to him.  

I remember the first year after he passed I had to fill out some documents and there was a box that needed to be checked.  Single/ Married/ Widowed, and I went to immediately check the married box.  But, in the eyes of this document, I was no longer considered married and my hand was forced to check Widowed. This caused me a moment of resentment, not toward my husband, but toward society.  Just because my husband is dead, why do I have to check any other box other than 'married'?  After all, I was still married in my heart.  

Being a part of grief support groups, I had read several discussions about what the widowed do with their wedding rings.  There were many creative ideas such as melting them down into another piece of jewelry, moving the ring from the left hand to the right (which I hadn't realized, symbolizes a widowed status), or putting them away to one day hand down to the children.  Each choice is a very personal choice and there is not one correct way to handle this.  I read this, the whole time, rubbing the rings on my wedding finger and thought with great conviction that mine would never leave my finger.  

In public areas, such as the gym or the shopping center, there are moments inside I think of the fact I am a widow.  I long for just a bit of acknowledgement of this.  For someone to notice, hey~ I am damaged.  My heart hurts.  Or that I am spending my birthday alone.  Or that I do not feel the warmth of a hug very often.  I think these things, while absentmindedly rubbing my wedding ring.  Then, strangly, I wonder why no body notices this about me.  

As a country, if there has been a great loss, we fly our flags at half mast.  In days of old, it was common place to wear black and withdraw from social events for over a year.  According to Wikipedia many other cultures observe mourning as well.  The Japanese term for mourning dress is mofuku (喪服) and it is primarily black, while in India members of the mourning family and the people who come to participate in mourning all wear white clothes.  In Victorian times, mourners even wore a special ring in memory of someone who has died. It often bears the name and date of death of the person, and possibly an image of them, or a motto. 

As I thought deeper about these traditions, I realized that it is not just society's responsibility to notice I am in mourning, when at a glance they could never know this about me.  Maybe I was not ready for anyone to notice.  In this stage of my grief, I have realized that I want others to know this about me, even if it is unspoken.  Losing my spouse is also a part of my personal experience as a person.  For this reason, I have chosen to switch my wedding ring to my right hand. Not because I have moved on from the love I have with my husband, but because I have moved on from the idea that somehow people will know I am a widow just by looking at my face.  I have also accepted that I do want others to know this about me and to wonder if I am getting enough hugs.  ~Because, hugs are great and I could use all the support I can get.  xoxoxo

My Forever Valentine~ Written by Pam Brewer

This is my first Valentines Day without my Rick. He always gave me such meaningful cards...flowers...and always came up with special arrangements or colors of "our" special meaning roses...jewelry, etc. But, the absolute most important thing he has given me ever since I started dating him before we married, was something he probably never knew. You see throughout the years, when I'd travel either for business or family...all the times I went to North Carolina to see my parents, sometimes by myself in the 11 or so years they went there, or was gone all day on appointments, etc.....you see what I mean....I'd think, "oh, I'm lonely or I'm doing these things "alone"....well, I now know, I was never, never alone....he was truly always with me and a part of me....I was, never, alone!

 He gave me the greatest gift any one could ever begin to give another person! The "being together"...a part of another person...If I was anxious to get home during the day, it was because of him. If I saw something trivial that made me smile, I didn't even realize till now, it was because I could share it with him. If we sat all evening and just once in awhile reached over and grabbed each others hands, or smiled at each other, I was so full and enjoyed that because of him.....in all these years...no matter where I literally was on this earth, I never knew what being alone was ....because of him......Now, I "do" know what being alone is.....I can't go there....no words....every single thing now, is "alone"...even if I'm in a big crowd.....every little nuance or joy has changed...

So, if you don't get the box of chocolates, or can't afford to go out to eat at that special restaurant, "if" you have that special person...you have THEE greatest gift of all....you are NOT ALONE!!!! Thank you Rick Brewer for making it so that I knew not one moment, from 1968 till Oct. 21, 2013, of being ..."alone".......I had "you"!!!!! I LOVE YOU, MY FOREVER VALENTINE!!!!

**Thank You, Pam, for sharing your heart with us on this Valentine's Day!  My heart, filled with love, goes out to you.  ~Breathing

I'm not here to answer your call right now~

After my husband passed away from Pulmonary Fibrosis, I could not bear to cancel his cell phone line.  Talking on the phone was so much of our relationship, kind of like our life-line.  He worked out on the road and while he was away, we called each other with every new day to wish each other a good morning.  We called one another every night to bid a good night.  We called each other in the middle of the day to talk about whatever we were dealing with at the time.  It was a way to find out if we were safe and not a day went by that we did not speak.  

So, when he passed away, my youngest child and I decided to leave his phone line alive.  It helped us both a great deal.  My son would often call his phone while having a hard day at school.  Meanwhile, I would call my husband's line to wish him a good night or to tell him my car had broken down and I just needed to talk. We called his line every birthday, wedding anniversary and Christmas.  On New Year's Eve, my son and I would dial into my husband's voice mail and put the phone on speaker and listen all the messages we had left.  They were mostly tearful whispers and inaudible crying, but we could still make out the words we were trying to say.  

I finally discussed with my son that we should think about cancelling his line.  My son agreed.  After all, deep down we knew that most of the time we talked to my hubby, it is through our hearts and not on a ten dollar a month phone line.  We recorded my husbands voice mail message on another device and then I took the big step to call my phone provider and let them know.  

The customer service provider apologized for our loss and  indicated that we would not have to pay a cancellation fee for that line if the person was deceased and asked the date of my husband's death.  
"December 15th", I responded.
"Okay"  she said, "December 15th of 2013."  
"No, it was actually December 15th, 2011."   Realizing that two full years had gone by.  

I began to explain why we kept the phone line alive and that I had not been ready to cancel it until now.  She said that it was perfectly understandable and that she too, had dealt with the loss of her father and still wishes she could hear his voice.  She cancelled the phone line with no issue and we ended up sending tearful wishes and blessings to each other.  She was very kind.

I still have my husband listed on my speed dial.  I can't imagine anyone else's name listed there.  

Get Over "It"

Soon it will be coming up on the two-year anniversary that my husband passed away.  Recently, a person told me that I should 'Get Over It' and to move on with my life.  The person also indicated that, we all lose people and I should not allow memories to control my actions.  

As a widow, I have heard that this type of thing happens.  Friends or family indicating their opinions of how long grief should last.  It had not happened to me directly within the last two years and I considered myself lucky.  But now, there it was, somebody said it.  How did I respond to that person?  I didn't respond to them at all.  After all, when I look into the mirror, I see my own eyes everyday and I know myself better than anyone else could.  

How did I feel about what was said?  Well, that part was what surprised me.  I actually felt a twinge of anger throughout the day.  What should "moving on" look like?  Is there a standard of moving on that I am unaware of?  I thought of all the things that I did after my husband's funeral.  
I continued to work full time.  I made improvements to the much ignored house.  I made friends.  I gave my children things to smile about and to continue to work towards.  I strengthened my relationship with my children and let them know that everything will be okay, that I am still here for them.  We went on family trips, to the ocean, to the mountains.  I continued to be creative and did things with my hands that make me happy.  I write and maintain a blog to help raise awareness for Pulmonary Fibrosis.  I realized that I need to care for myself and started to exercise and eat a bit better.  I contemplate what direction my life will go and explore the things that interest me.  I planted a garden.  I read books.  I swam in the river.  I hugged, smiled, and laughed.  Yes, I still keep my loved one's memory alive.  Hmmmm.... not bad for less than two years of losing a spouse, in my opinion.  What was making me angry?  Perhaps the feeling that I needed to defend and itemize my accomplishments toward growth.  Sorry, if it seems like I am not advancing fast enough for you.

I am not one who enjoys feeling anger, I reached out to a friend to see what her standpoint was.  As a matter of fact, she is Annie, my co-host on Breathing's Face Book page.  She, too, lost a loved one to Pulmonary Fibrosis.  She also experienced similar input from a friend, to just Get Over 'It.'  Annie indicated that 'it' is her lovely mother.  'It' is my beloved husband.  'It' was a father, a brother, a son, a friend.  'It' is not an it, It is a person.  A person that we care for and love.  She is right.  

As for not allowing memories to control my actions, that is true if the actions are negative and destructive. What if the actions are of kindness or advocacy?  If we do not allow our memories to shape us or control our actions how is it that we ever learn and grow?  I am glad I am not the person I was at 14.  I am glad I am not the person I was at 24 or 34.  This is because I experienced things that allowed me to reflect, learn and grow.  It is my belief that certain things happen to all of us that cause a struggle or a look within.  This is what life is!  There is a beauty in life because of these experiences.  Love, grief, happiness, mistakes, and success do become part of our memories for a purpose.  So that we can evolve in our thinking.  These are our own personal life's experiences that began from the moment we were born and shape us into the unique beings that we are.  To turn my back on the life's events that shape me would be turning my back on myself.  

   

Twisted Knots

Hi Babe, It is me.  In December it will be nearing the 2 year anniversary when you departed my arms.  Only a few months away.  I have been working along my little path and even when I can't see where it is leading, I have been sure to stop and soak in the beauty around me.  For that alone, I know you are proud of me.  Fall is now here and the leaves on the trees are changing color.  The coolness in the air surrounds.  

I have been maintaining and managing to the best of my abilities.  The house is buttoned up with the exception of one repair that I would like to make before Winter sets in.  If I can get that completed then all my homestead goals will have been fulfilled for this year.  The garden has been the best it has ever been.  It was a record year.  I think it was because I laid straw down to keep the weeds out and it worked very well to hold the moisture in for the plants.  

The river bank?  It is still the same river bank, growing as wild as ever.  Although two trees, the same ones you kept cutting down so it would not obstruct our view, came back. They were growing big!  So big, in fact, I knew it was something that I had ignored and once they began to take over, I contemplated just letting them grow.  I wondered if I should just let them grow and tried to imagine not seeing the water from the house anymore.  I thought it might be a blessing as a windbreak.  But, deep down I knew I was just justifying keeping those big weeds around because I didn't know how to remove them.  So, I made a phone call and had someone cut them and immediately was glad I did.  I vow to catch them early next Spring so that they will not grow out of control anymore.

You have really changed my life.  Given me the opportunity to see what my own capabilities are.  I am even thinking about my future.  Trying to imagine in a very real way what I would want the second half of my life to look like.  I can only see a foggy outline.  Snippets of things like me still living and taking care of our home, River-Rose.  Each year living more simply and naturally.  I realized that I only envision myself doing tasks that make me extremely happy- only have to do with the family we once had.  Now, our immediate family has dwindled as my oldest has left the nest and our youngest has just become a legitimate teen at 13 years old.  I try to imagine what the house will sound like when there is no one to call out to.  What type of thoughts will roam through my brain as I live my existence alone?  Will I be comfortable with the stillness?

I realize that you and I had an age difference and that is why we joked you were the geezer.  Still, your life ended too short from Pulmonary Fibrosis at age 50.  Which is an age that I think is still very young.  When I transfer that to being a widow at my age, it seems I have a long road to walk down in solitary.  This is not how I pictured things would be for me when you and I were healthy, before this disease came into our lives. At the same time, the idea of being alone does not cause me enough discomfort to want to be with anyone else.  To the contrary, it actually prompts me to discover how I can be more at peace with myself.  To perhaps imagine finding a different kind of joy in my journey.  And that is why I contemplate.  I realize that I must imagine what things I want to bring into my life that will fill my future days.  I cannot be complacent in a comfortable area.  If I would like my life to be a journey of joy, I cannot wait for joy to knock at my door, I have to reach out and work for it.  

Money, travel, clothing, things, may bring a little better sense of security to ones mind, but it doesn't change what lives in our mind and soul.  I have picked up and left and driven for days.  I have found the most beautiful, exciting, and serine places.  In the wrong frame of mind, none of it filled me.  I could have the ocean outside my window, sitting in a beautiful room, and still be filled with twisted knots.  

Just a thought, My Love.  Thank You for bringing me to a moment in time that I have been forced to be truly honest with myself.  Even though I have not discovered the answers, the period of discovering purpose is a gift in itself.

With All My Love....

Doodles From Grief Counseling

 I look at my spirit like a garden.  There have many days I have been cultivating my garden, and there have been times that the wind and storms have ripped it to shreds.  There have been times that I have ignored the weeds and there have been times I have been on my knees, picking each one out.  I have introduced new plants to my garden and I have learned which plants are not suited to grow there.  Loving and kind friends have suggested that I may be spending too much time on my garden alone.  I should enjoy sharing my garden with others.  

Just over a year and a half after my husband's passing from Pulmonary Fibrosis, I decided to go to a grief counseling group.  Although, I feel that my understanding of my husband's death has been fairly healthy and I can look back over the year and see the ways that I have grown as a person, I also know that it is good to push myself out of my comfort zone.  Often it is under these circumstances that I have grown the most.  

It was a very small group and ice-breakers were in order to get us acquainted.  A small envelope was handed to us and inside the envelope were many words cut into small squares.  We were told to pick one word that best described our last week.  I poured the words on the table before me and sifted through each one.  Words were spread out before me such as Anger, Isolation, Bitter, and Sad.  I searched, but could not find one nice word.  I did want to say something, maybe all my nice words fell out or was given to someone else in the group.  But, I do not like confrontation and I didn't feel like defending my standpoint, that while, Yes, I did feel some of those negative words last week, I also felt Love, Laughter, and moments of Joy. Perhaps in haste, I decided this was not where I needed to be.  It's one of those things when you just need to listen to your inner-voice. 

 I did stay the rest of the meeting and most of my time was spent with ears open, and hands on paper, doodling.  I still wanted the discussion to flow through me and to absorb what I could, when another exercise seemed quite fitting.  It was explained that grief is not just one big thing but a series of small things over a period of time.  For instance, yes, I miss my husband and learn to deal with that everyday- although why is it that when I have a problem with the plumbing, I unexpectedly break into tears and sadness for a whole day? It is because our loved ones are made up of many components and our love has many facets.  We not only miss that person, but a million tiny things that remind us of them and grief is mourning each and every one of those things individually.  

So, as I listened to this, I began to add to my doodle some of the ways I missed my husband and acknowledge that I will need to mourn these things as well....

Understanding

Love

Togetherness

Your Eyes

Holding Hands

Your Smell

Our Music

Making Love

Security

Dreams

Our Travels

Companionship

Your Hair

Annoying You

Arguments

Making Up

Talking

Laughing

Your Eyes

Partnership

Advice

Safety

Guidance

Your Coffee

Sharing

Parenting

Trust

Comfort

Our Plans

*What I miss most of all and really can't be replaced is 

Our Chemistry

Love, 

~Breathing~