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

~~~A Pulmonary Fibrosis Merry Christmas~~~

Merry Christmas to You~ 

The One with Pulmonary Fibrosis fighting each day to live a life fulfilled.  

The Caregiver, tirelessly assisting and supporting your loved one.  

The Child, holding the hand of your loved one and letting them hear your laughter.  

The Friend, who offers a shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen.  

The Bereaved,  bravely taking one step at a time forward, living to honor the spirit of their loved one.  

The Doctor or Nurse, trying their best to understand and treat the symptoms.  

The Researcher, searching to discover more about the causes and cure. 

The Advocate, creatively seeking to spread the word about Pulmonary Fibrosis.  

We All make a beautiful team, a family.  

To You~ My Pulmonary Fibrosis Family may you experience the magical love of this season 

in the most profound way.  

Many more treasured memories with each day of the New Year.  

~Breathing

Thankful

Thanksgiving Day and so much to feel blessed for~ I feel blessed for nature and all of its beauty, for kind people with warm hearts who are thoughtful of others, living a life full of adventure, laugher~ I love laughter, my children~ that they are creative and healthy, and that I am here~ still Breathing.  I hope you have many reasons to feel blessed today  Happy Thanksgiving!

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 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

The Last Sunset~ New Year's Eve 2013

Babe, I saw the glow of the sunset coming through the window tonight.  I was able to catch this picture. It wasn't until after I took it that I realized it would be the last sunset of 2013.  Our little family is safe under one roof tonight.  This feels like the biggest, warmest gift that I could ask for.  I look back at our year and recall so many beautiful moments, just as I look back at our life together, and my mind is flooded with so many strokes of beauty.  Big or small, all of these moments have touched my heart.  They literally changed my life and in some ways even my future, as I know, now, to always take the time to slow down, almost remove myself ~for one moment, and take a mental snap-shot of a precious slice of time and space.  I carry these snap-shots in my heart and they have layered upon each other, cascading like a waterfall within my mind. As I collect these treasures in my heart, I see you moving in each moment. One day, even if I have nothing, I will still have this when I close my eyes.  I love you with all my heart.  ~Breathing

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.  

   

Happy Father's Day

 

Hi Honey.  Happy Father's Day.  We miss you.  You were a wonderful father and wanted more than anything to teach your children about honesty, hard work, humor, love and integrity.  I know it must make you proud to see all of your children and know that they did, indeed, listen.  It really did soak in.  I am still working on your favorite; getting them to put things back where they belong.    I love you, Babe, and I know you are still watching over us.

Sheba the Christmas Shepherd

I used to clean my neighbors home.  I was new to the area and wanted something to do outside of my own home.  My neighbor, a beautiful woman, worked very hard at her job and had little time for cleaning.  She had a cleaning lady although one day was talking about the areas she wished could be improved.  I offered to clean her home.  I really liked it, as I would walk over in my slippers, unlock her door, put on my IPOD to some rock-n-roll and just clean.  To me, it was like I was getting paid for a fun workout!

One day, in the winter, I was jamming away, dancing around and cleaning when it was time to clean the exterior of her sliding glass doors.  I went outside.  It was a cold, cold day, but sunny.  I wondered if the Windex would freeze right when it was sprayed on the window.  I had taken off my IPOD and I heard a sad wailing.  I could tell it was an animal and it sounded hurt.  The sound seemed to come from the river. 

Each winter, when the temperatures drop, the top of the river freezes over.  The water still flows beneath the river, although the top forms an icy crust.  I walked across her back yard and stared.  Sure enough there was an animal walking and crying in the center of the river.  I went down to the dock and started making kissing sounds, calling to the animal.  The animal started walking toward the dock.  Once the animal was about 30 feet from the dock, I could tell it was some sort of dog.  But, it looked strange.  In the distance I could see it's face did not look normal, and it must have been just a pup.  I kept calling and calling but the animal seemed frightened and stayed on the ice.  I went inside and called animal control. 

A few minutes later a Sheriff arrived, as in our small town, animal control is the Sheriff.  He came in and walked out onto the porch with me.  I explained the situation and we caught sight of the pup whimpering and wailing walking along the center of the river.  It was a scary situation, because the ice was not solid and there were little melting puddles within the ice that was very thin.  The animal could have fallen through and I was beside myself.  The Sheriff indicated that there was nothing that could be done, as the dog started running up the center of the river and it was too dangerous.  No human would consider doing such a foolish thing, going out onto the ice, they would surely fall through.  I thanked the Sheriff as he left and continued to clean, the whole time listening for the poor pup.

At the end of my shift, I poked my head out of her sliding glass door, to hear another neighbor calling to it.  I walked down to the dock again, this time to see a neighbor downstream, kneeling at his dock holding out a hot-dog.  The pup was back and crying on the ice, walking slowly in but  stopping about 20 feet away from the dock.  Then it started running up towards my direction and ran past me on the ice.  This time, I had a chance to see it closer and realized it was a German Shepherd puppy.  It's eyes where white, because it was blind.  A blind dog, stranded on the ice.  My heart just tugged, but still there seemed nothing we could do.  I went back to my house.

For two days all of us who lived on the river, listened to the poor baby crying on the ice.  We all talked on the phone, we all left food out on the docks, we all called to it.  It seemed like a helpless situation, and it caused us much anxiety to hear the wailing in the middle of the night, knowing this pup was on its second day there, with no food and bone chilling temperatures.

My hubby had been on the road for work.  But, he spent time on the phone with me as I told him about this dog and how heartbreaking the cries in the night were.  On Christmas Eve, my husband was due back home.  Once he arrived, he asked have I heard any news on the dog?  I shook my head 'no' as the last time I heard it, was the night before.  I was sure the dog had perished.  Just as I said this, we both heard a wail.  I jumped up and said that is the dog!  Next thing I know, my hubby was out the back door.  I ran to the porch after him.  Yelling for him not to do anything crazy and to be careful.  He disappeared through the archway which lead to the river.  I stayed on the porch completely frightened for him.  Time began to pass and I heard nothing.  Not my hubby or the dog was making a sound.  When suddenly, in the darkness of the sunset, my husband's silhouette appeared beneath the archway, with a bundle in his arms.  My heart leapt!  He carried into the house the dog who now had now been on the ice for three days. 

The dog, we called her Sheba, was a puppy of 6 months.  She was completely blind.  Around her neck was a nylon cord that had been broken or chewed.  Her nose was hot and she was barely hanging onto life.  We fed her milk and water through a dropper.  We kept her warm.  We took care of her until a vet was willing to see her a couple days later.  They put her on an IV and was not sure if she would make it.  She had an infection from the cold temperatures.  But, Sheba pulled through within the week.  We knew we couldn't keep her there on the river, so we were going to take her to an animal sanctuary in another state.  Before we had the chance, the vet found a wonderful home for her up in the hills.  A home where they raised German Shepherds, with acres for them to run, all fenced off.  It was like a dream.  On every Christmas Eve, I think about Sheba, and of course my hero, my hubby.

Photo 1 via

I Just Called to Say I Love You

Our family recently got through the one-year anniversary of my husband's passing.  On the day, my son and I wrote little notes to him and then burned them.  We blew the ashes out into the wind.  It was our way of sending him the thoughts in our hearts.  Later, we were talking about other ways that we still talk to my hubby.  My son told me he calls his cell phone and leaves messages on his voicemail. 

After my hubby passed away, I could not bring myself to cancel his cell phone service.  So, I pay for his line every month.  I had already played his voicemail greeting and recorded it on a hand-held recorder, just so I could have the sound of his voice stored, but still, I want to be able to call him.  So, his cell phone account is still active. 

While discussing this with my child, he told me he calls his line often and on particularly difficult days, he may call more than once.  Then, he told me that he even texts him.  I asked how often he texts his step-dad and he says about once a day. 

To which I responded, "There's just a slight problem with that, your Dad doesn't have texting on that line.  No wonder my phone bill has been so high... :)"

The Red Tree

Every year, on the day after Thanksgiving, my hubby would climb into the rafters to pull down all our boxes of Christmas decorations.  This year it was two days after Thanksgiving that I climbed into the attic to fetch the boxes. 

"Not bad."  I thought to myself, somewhat proud that it was only a day off from what was our annual tradition.

One by one, I pulled down the boxes which were labelled with permanent marker in my husbands handwriting, "Christmas". 

Once all the boxes were brought down, I realized that I didn't need the smaller white tree that I had set up in our bedroom the previous year.  I had the tree in our room, so that my husband could experience Christmas from the bed.  The thought of having the tree in the room reminded me of all the nights, that we said 'goodnight' to each other and I would roll over and stare at the lights of the tree with silent tears rolling down my face. 

I mentioned to my youngest that maybe they could put the small tree elsewhere in the house, and he said, "No, Mom, that tree goes in your room."

"Honey, we just did that last year but it's not tradition or anything."  I replied.

"Yes, it is Mom", He argued, "It's our new tradition." 

"Okay, sounds good.  We will put the little tree in my room." 

Looking through more of the boxes, "Oh, look!  Your Choo-Choo train!"  I exclaimed.

This was the train that we set up around the main tree ever since my little-one was 4 years old.  Every year the sound of "All aboard!" and the train's whistle filled the house. 

"Oh, I don't think we need to set that up this year, Mom."  My child says.

"Are you sure, Honey?

"Yeah, let's just keep it simple."  He replied. 

"Alrighty." 

Then, I open the big box.  The one with the big, white tree that goes in our main room.  I am so excited.  I love how the tree glows, so bright and pretty.  I begin to pull the tree out of the box when I see that large portions of it had become discolored and yellow.  All these years, we have stored the tree in the same manner, and it has always remained pristine.  Why now?  I wonder to myself. 

I tell myself that it has a sweet, aged appearance, it's like an antique effect.  I proceed to set up the tree.  As I arrange each branch negative thoughts begin in my head.... 

"Why bother?  You know you feel sad.  Nothing will ever be the same without him here, not even the tree.  The glorious tree.  It's all gone now.  Who even cares?"

My thoughts run away with me as I put each ornament on the tree.   

"Do it for the kids.  But, where are they now?  Oh, yeah, playing video games, while Mom decorates the tree all by herself.  Well, you better get used to it, after they leave you will really be alone probably too achy to get up into the rafters at all!  Then what are you gonna do?  Your a real piece of work thinking like this.  Isn't this suppose to be about the wonderful gift of Christmas?  So much for that!"

"Whoa, Mom!  The tree looks great!"  says my oldest, coming up the stairs.

"Yeah, great, if you like 'the dog-peed-on-it look'."  I said flatly.

Finally, I plugged it in and all the lights twinkled and it glowed again.  The next morning, I walked by the tree.  Only noticing the yellow stains.  This doesn't look antique at all.  It looks horrible.  Maybe I should just go buy another tree.  But, I don't want to.  This was 'our' tree.  Here come those thoughts again....

"The tree doesn't look bad with its lights on.  Whenever visitors come, just turn on the lights.  You should be happy, you should be grateful.  Stop being so superficial.  It's just a white tree with enormous yellow stains.  But, I don't like it.  What are you going to do, be bothered by it all season?  Do something if you don't like it.  I miss my hubby."

Then it came to me.  One-by-one I took each decoration off of the tree.  I ran down into the garage, my feet cold on the bare floor, searching through my husband's shelves of this and that.  Until I found it!  A can of red spray paint.  Shaking the can and hearing the ball bearing rattle against the edges,

I thought, "Oh yeah!  I'm gonna do it.'

I placed the tree, in all of its yellow and white glory onto the balcony, still shaking the can of spray paint, more thoughts ran through my head...

"If he was here, he would not like this at all.  Maybe you should test the wind direction. You're probably going to get paint on the deck." 

I began to spray and immediately the tree started to look better to me.  I kept going, like a frantic artist on a masterpiece, like a street graffiti artist tagging in the subway.  It felt good, really good.  I could almost feel my hubby saying, "You go girl!  Do what you gotta do!"

Not sure how many people can say they spray painted the Christmas tree.  In the end, not one drop got on the deck.  I walk by the tree now and think it looks "different" which is fine with me.  Maybe next year I will get a new tree, or just buy a can of gold spray paint...  Good, bad, or ugly, I realize that I was marking the moment of new traditions yet to come.

xoxo