Excursions

This weekend my youngest son and I took an excursion into the city.  It was for his annual cardiology appointment.  He was born with a congenitial heart defect called Tricuspid Atresia.  He is now 13 and has had three open heart surgeries.  We monitor it every year.  One day, he may need a heart transplant, although his doctor indicated he is doing very well at this time :)  This made us very happy!  We brought the old camera that I found in the drawer and took a few pictures.  xoxo

New Perspectives

The other day I was looking through a drawer and I found my old camera.  It has been a long time that I have used it.  I took many pictures with that old thing :)  Some of the pictures were loving or goofy times shared with my family.  Some pictures were for my, then- blog, River-Rose.  Other pictures were for my local newspaper.  But, all the pictures taken were for me.  I really love taking photos. 

I have blown the dust of the camera and hope I still know how to use it.  I am going to take a teeny-tiny bit of time for myself and hopefully, return with some new and fresh perspectives through the eye of my lens. All of which, I am going to share with you!  xoxo 

Soul SAT's

Oxygen Saturation (SAT): 

Oxygen is vital for human survival. All the cells in our body need a certain amount of oxygen to carry out their duties. Oxygen saturation is the amount of oxygen that red blood cells carry, which attach to hemoglobin molecules. Normal saturation levels are 95 to 99 percent. Typically, a person will only reach 100 percent when supplemental oxygen is used. It's when saturation levels fall below 90 percent that the body begins to suffer adverse effects.  (via eHow.com)

 

The above photo is of an Oxygen Saturation journal that I kept while caring for my husband.  We usually took his SAT measurements when he was resting, then right after activity, such as a bath.  We documented how far his SAT levels dropped and how long they took to recover.  It was helpful for my husband and I to see how we could adjust his Oxygen intake according to his needs. 

 

As the description above indicates, that Oxygen is vital for human survival.  If the saturation level drops below certain levels then it can affect the rest of the body.  When my husbands SAT's dropped, he became tired and listless.

 

This has me wondering if the Soul or Spirit within us needs its own nourishment, just as our body does.  After my husband passed away, I spent a great deal of time in shock.  I dealt with this loss by realizing all the things that needed to be done around me and I busied myself with this.  As I wrote previously, I created a list of goals to achieve and set about achieving them all. 

 

Now, I seem to be taking a time out.  Wondering to myself what list of goals I should create next.  I sat down and started writing all of my goals, whether planting a garden or painting the house.  I know these are positive things.  But, I just sit and look at the list.  Stumped as to where to start.  My heart does not seem to be in it.  I have realized that may be because my soul needs nourishment so that it can breathe and grow.  To listen to my soul, my spirit.  To give it nourishment, feed it new oxygen.  I want to put that at the top of my list.

Water

When you were born, you were cleansed in it

Thirsty, you drank from it

Playfully, you splashed in it

In Sadness, it rained upon you

With Loneliness, it froze and drifted from the sky,

 Love, you threw in rose petals

Comfort, it gave you in illness

Spiritually, it renewed you

You, just like Water, slipped through my hands.

Never Throw Diamonds

The morning after my first date with my husband, I was on the phone with my sister.  Girl talk. 

"I can't believe I kissed him!  No, it was only one kiss.  Yes, I know he is practically a stranger, I barely know him.  You know I never do that!  I don't know what happened.  He's not even my type, he is like a cowboy or something....  All of a sudden, he just leaned over and we kissed!  It was a good kiss.  I haven't kissed in a year!  ((giggles))  No, I doubt he will call, it was probably a one time thing, hang on for a sec okay?  There is someone at the door......."  

"Sis?  Oh my God!  You will never believe who was at the door!  Someone delivering roses!  Hang on, let me read the card... It's from him, it says 'Thank You for spending time with me, Love, ~R."  "Yes, they are red!! There is one daisy in the center, they are beautiful!  But, the card said 'Love'.  Uh Oh, it was only one date and one kiss and the card says 'Love'.  No, I don't think he is a stalker!  I hope not.  I'll call you back!"

That was the beginning of all the roses.  He wasn't a stalker, but he did stalk me with a dozen roses every single week for a year.  We went out on several dates, sometimes we went on motorcycle rides, and that one time- I will never forget, when we got brave enough to karaoke for the first time.  I brought my purse up to the stage so we could dash out the door when the song was over.  We sang Leather and Lace. 

I was very reserved about us.  Since I had very small children, I made up a rule that he could not meet my children until we had dated for six-months.  I figured that was good time to get to know someone.  By our third-month together, he told me he loved me.  I never said it back.  Around Christmas time, it was our six-month mark in our relationship and I had fallen deeply in love with him.  That was when I had told him this.  We were right beside the Christmas tree and I gave him his gift.  It was a homemade present.  A picture and a frame.  He handed me my box and I shook it and it sounded like jewelry.  I opened the box and it was a lovely pearl necklace and earring set.  My eyes got all watery and I was so happy for this present.  Every girl loves to get jewelry from a man they love.  It's not so much the jewels as it is the thought behind it.  He laughed at me and I couldn't understand why, until he gave me a separate box, very exquisitely wrapped.  I slowly opened it and this time, I saw a diamond necklace and earrings.  This was a very serious present. I treasured the necklace and always wore it.

As the months passed, the roses kept coming.  I kept wearing my necklace.  I found myself unable to imagine this person not being in my life.  I wanted a future with him.  He met the children, and I met his.  We did everything together.  One day, in Spring, he suddenly told me that he was just going to move on.  We didn't even have a fight, he just told me it was over.  I felt so played by him.  This whole time, I was the reserved one.  I kept it slow.  What did I do?  I got very, very, mad.  Even more mad as I watched him getting into his truck.  I grabbed my jewelry box from Christmas.  The one with the diamond necklace and earrings, opened my window and threw the box out toward his leaving truck.  Then, I went to bed and cried into my pillow.  The end?

A few weeks passed, and I have to say, from all the times I thought I was in love with someone, I never dreamt about them every night.  But, I did with him.  Every single night I dreamt of him.  His best friend was my neighbor, and when we talked he said the only thing he could think of is that he got "cold feet".  After all, he was about 10 years older than me and was divorced from a twenty-year marriage.  Maybe, he just did not want to try again at this point in his life... I contemplated this.  If it was not meant to be, then it's not meant to be.  I felt regret for the box I threw out the window.  I still loved him and he still touched my life, I wished I still had something of his.  At the risk of looking like a crazy lady, I went to  all of my neighbor's homes asking if they happened to find a box of diamonds in the road.  No one had found it.  I even ran an add in the paper with a reward.  But nothing.

One day, I stepped outside to check my mail and saw his truck parked at my neighbors house.  How dare he even drive onto my street!  I then saw that he was in his truck and he pulled into my driveway.  He asked me to get in.  I remember it was sprinkling rain.  My heart was loud in my chest and I hoped he couldn't hear it.  He talked to me, he told me his fears.  He told me he was scared.  I watched the rain drops run down the window as he talked.  Then, he told me, "Happy Valentine's Day."  He handed me a box.  I unwrapped it and it was a beautiful rose-wood box.  So pretty.  I cried because the box was beautiful.  He laughed and said the box was not the present and to open it.  I opened the box and there was the earrings and necklace I had thrown into the road.  He explained that they are not the originals.  He had heard what I had done and went back to the jeweler.  They did not carry my necklace and earrings anymore.  He had them recreate an exact duplicate.  Who does that?  My man did. 

If you read my blog, many of our personal stories sound as though our Love was perfect.  I really wanted to write this to let you know that our love was not always perfect.  We had a lot of passion and with that comes ups and downs.  We grew together.  I always wondered who ended up with my original set.  It was a good lesson for me to learn as there were many times in our marriage that he upset me.  But, I never, ever, threw something from his heart away. No, our love was not perfect, but I can say, it was real. 

xoxo

Things He Did

Thinking about my husband today.  He had very soft blonde hair.  It was silky and curled around my fingers.  He kept it a little on the long side, the back of his hair just touching his collar.  He parted it in the middle.  I used to suggest he try a different part and he would let me play with it in the mirror.  I would try parting it from the side and we would just laugh and laugh because it just wasn't normal for him to look that way. 

I have mentioned his laugh lines.  They were fine and tender.  They gave the appearance of wisdom and kindness, framed around his knowing blue eyes.  A blue that was like the sky on a summer day, with little glimmers and sparkles, like when the sun catches on water. 

His hands and arms were very strong.  His skin was golden, highlighted by the light hair that glistened on his arms and down to his wrists.  I always thought he had very thoughtful wrists and I loved to rub my fingers along his wrist to those big strong hands.  We used to put our hands against each other's and his fingers would tower over mine.  This used to amuse him and he would say, "Just look at what a little girl you are!"  When he picked out my wedding ring and placed it on my finger for the first time, it was a perfect fit.  I wondered how he knew my ring size and he told me it was easy, he just tried it on his pinky-finger. 

Everywhere we went, no matter what.  He would jump out of the truck and literally run over to my side to open my door and let me out.  He always opened every door for me.  At first, I was not used to this, but over the years it became something I did not think about. I just got used to it.  But, I am sure he thought about it, since he was the one doing it and for that, I think it was very sweet. 

It was the same way when we walked together.  Most often, he would grab my hand and tuck it into the crook of his folded arm.  There were times when we were mad at each other.  We could be really, really mad at each other, but when it came time to walk somewhere I would wait to see if he would grab my hand, and he most always did.  There were a couple of times, he did not reach for my hand, so I would reach for his.  That usually ended our arguments.

When we dined out we always asked for a booth.  We always sat on the same side of the booth.  Even if it was just us, alone.  We could sit and talk, or sit in silence, but we always sat side-by-side.  Now, when I go out and see an older couple sitting on the same side of the table, it makes me smile and think of him.

At night, I usually laid my head upon his shoulder.  Never mind whatever happened that day.  The problems of the world just melted away, being lulled by his arm around me and the sound of his breathing.  When it came to actual sleep, we were not spooners.  We preferred our own little space in bed.  Just before the lights went out, even if I were half asleep, he would say, " I Love You" and kiss me.  Then we would roll over, facing in opposite directions; but our feet, beneath the blankets, always touched. 

His wedding ring, I wear beneath my own wedding ring.  It is loose and wiggly there, but my ring on top of it keeps it snug.  I do not know the etiquette of a widow wearing her wedding ring.  To me it really doesn't matter.  I think I would feel lost without it.

The Supra-Eruption of Tooth 15 (A Love Story of Sorts)

Warning, This true story depicts the life, care, and loss of a tooth; with intentional correlations to a deeply rooted love affair.  Sense of humor is advised....

It was 18 years ago and I was the young mother of a sweet 3 month old baby, living in a frigid basement apartment right next to Utah Lake.  My first husband and I moved to this area, just starting out in life and money was sparse.  I contemplated this as I sat eating a pork rind when I felt the crunch of a back tooth. 

Upon a visit to the dentist it turns out I had fractured a molar and at the time we could not afford the dental work to repair it.  Taking the tooth out was only $50.  I asked the dentist what the repercussions of this would be and he did advise, that perhaps, 20 years from now -the tooth above it may miss it and wander downward to find it.  At the time, I was so young and 20 years sounded like a world away.  This was a no-brainer, lets take it out!  So we removed the tooth.

Fast forward to now.  The upper molar is now seeking its long lost mate.  Sure enough, on an 18 year odyssey, tooth number 15 is desperately seeking to be reunited with the lower tooth that is no longer there.  Slowly, it has dropped down, filling in the space of the missing tooth.  My current dentist indicated that it would probably be best if it was removed.  He saw the disappointed look on my face and questioned me about it.  "Well" I told him, "It's just that I have had that tooth for a really long time." 

I mentioned this to my mother and she found it quite odd that even a tooth would miss it's mate and would actually go looking for it.  I mentioned this to my Aunt, and she wondered what would happen if instead, the tooth was cavalier and had more of the attitude that it would be better off on its own. 

But of course, I would find myself with "sensitive" teeth.  Teeth with feelings, or "fillings".  Teeth that go searching for each other...  just my luck. 

Tomorrow, I will go in for the extraction and in a note of seriousness and honesty-

There is a part of me that is proud of myself that I took the initiative to encourage good health in my body.  After losing a spouse or loved one, it is easy to ignore personal issues that go on, or to put off appointments.  It is much harder to make decisions, too.  Especially when the person you would discuss this with is gone.  These differences show in other family members as well.  After caring for a terminally ill person, it becomes easier to see how fragile life can be.  I can see this in my youngest child too.  "Are you sure it's a simple procedure Mommy?"  He asks with worry in his voice. 

"Yes, baby it is."  I say, "And you know what?  Now both teeth will finally be reunited in tooth Heaven."  

Which makes him smile.  I am getting a bit long in the tooth now.  Thanks for listening and wish me luck!

xoxo

  

Write This Down

Exactly three days after my husband passed away, I was asleep in bed and felt a firm hold upon my right hip which startled me from sleep.  There, above me, was my husband's face.  He had a very intense look coming from his eyes and it felt as though he looked directly into my heart.  I sat up and and stared at his face.  Overwhelmed, I asked him over and over again, "Is this really you?"

With his eyes he told me firmly, "Yes."

I asked him if I could touch him, and again he told me -Yes. 

I put my arms around his shoulders and buried my face into his neck and just cried and cried.  I was amazed at his patience allowing me to do this for it seemed, as long as I needed.  Then, he held me away from him and looked deep into my eyes, he told me, "Write this down..."

I was unsure of what he was about to tell me, but I knew he was going to tell me a message.  A very important message.  I did not feel prepared and told him to let me find a pen and paper.  He just repeated, with a very intense look in his eyes, "Write this down."

I ran around the room looking endlessly for a pen and paper when suddenly I found myself behind my very first typewriter, one that I had used as a teenager.  I put paper in the typewriter and my fingers on the keys, and told him I was ready.  Then, he disappeared. 

This time, I really woke up from my sleep and I cried out into the empty room, "Please tell me!!" 

But, there was no response and I knew it had been a dream.

For many days, I would fall asleep mentally asking him to come back and tell me what his message was.  Days turned to months and the intense dream I had, after my husband had passed, stayed with me and I often wondered what it all meant.  Until one day, it hit me.  I realized what I believe is the answer.  The message he wanted me to know is exactly what he told me.  To simply, Write This Down. 

If anyone wonders why I stay motivated in sharing parts of our story, his illness, and our lives, it is because I think he wanted me to write it down.  How sharing these things may help or affect others, I will never really know, but I do hope some good will come from it.

xoxo