Thursday, February 28, 2013

Grief, It's What's For Dinner...

The title of this post has been on my mind since mid January. I was thinking about life changes and how one must let go of old selves and old ways of doing things to really move forward. Changing my life is hard. Changing habits is hard. There is a sadness as I struggle to embrace change. Don't get me wrong, I like the changes I am making, but at times I realize that I don't feel like I did when I was in my twenties, or even thirties. Time is finite. Where once I was filled with hope at the possibility of everything, now I know how much hard work is involved in any task. Finally, it's not the hope that sees one through to completion, it's persistence. 

January ended on an intense note with the death of my husband's sister/cousin. She was just 49 years old, three months older than I am. I admit I have been slowed by that death. I feel remorse that I didn't get my Christmas card sent to her with some special pictures; relief that we went to Atlanta in September for her birthday; and regret that we just didn't have more time for our families to be together.

Suddenly grief is all I have for the moment. And time feels limited. I put my training on hold—though I went to a few classes about running, which I will blog about soon—and I called my mom. I just wanted to spend time with her, to enjoy her company and really connect. I suggested a little road trip for us. She decided that she really wanted to go to Monument Valley. It was a great trip, just two days and while I felt I had other priorities, deadlines, things I needed to do—that was the most important thing at the moment. I am so glad we went because time is finite.

And here it is again...on Monday this week, another member of my husband's family died. His niece's husband (at just 44 yrs) had a heart attack. Death has been nearby in these last few years. Older relatives, older mentors, all passing on. My father's death just over a year ago. Time is finite and people have slipped out of my live so easily, so quickly and without warning. 

So where does that leave me right now? This week I started back to training. I made a number of decisions, one of which was to blog here every week no matter what I am feeling. And to really just think about what I need to do each day so I am more present. Finally, while I am feeling grief, I am thinking about how lucky I am. 

I keep hearing a line from a Joan Armatrading song that my dear friend Ang turned me onto in college—old school, she gave me a home-made cassette of Joan's music. Now a check out a little new school view on YouTube...

"I'm lucky, I can walk under ladders."

I'm lucky
I'm lucky
I can walk under ladders
Yes I'm so lucky
That I'm as lucky
As me

Struck it rich
Dirty rich
No work
And get richer
And the world
Loves a winner
Yes I'm so happy
That you're happy
With me

You are happy too
Ain't you baby

Numero uno
Living for
Right now
And it's
When I'm here
With you

I'm lucky
I'm lucky
I don't need a bracelet
No salt
For my shoulder
I don't own a rabbit
No clover
No heather
No cross
No wonder
I'm lucky