My Heart is Broken

Heather:

Back story:  I grew upon a dirt road in rural Southeastern Ohio.  My paternal great-grandmother, Nanny, and her friend, Pauline, lived next door (maybe 100 yards away).  My paternal grandparents, Gran and Pap, lived next door to her.  There weren't many kids my age in the area and Courtney wasn't born until I was seven years old. My playmates were my family and our playground was the 70 acre farm on which the three homes were situated.  Gran and I were great pals from the beginning, or that's the way she told it.  I can tell you that there aren't many memories that don't include her in some way.

The Present:  Gran passed away in the very early hours of May 12.  She was at home and surrounded by her family.  She died as she had lived: on her own terms.

Gran was born on June 6, 1930.  The stories she told were populated by colorful characters that I would have thought fictional if her account of them had not been verified by outside sources.  She taught me how to make lye soap (much to Mom's dismay), how to make a pie crust, and how to love.  Yes, we fought.  We disagreed over politics and how to best wash a car.  She thought I stayed up too late and slept in too late.  In my defense, she went to bed around 8 p.m. (usually after a rousing game of Jeopardy!) and got up somewhere around 5 a.m.  A habit formed in the early years of raising a family and running a farm.

Gran married Pap when she was 16 years old.  She had three children by the time she was 22.  She didn't get her driver's license until she was 29.  Perhaps that is why she was loath to admit that driving had become something she could no longer do.  She told me many times that she wanted her epitaph to be, "She did while she could.  When she couldn't, she died."  It seems fitting that that was the last line of her obituary.

This is the first I've written since her death.  I've tried.  There are so many things I want to write down before they become blurry footnotes of memory, but it has felt wrong.  I try to tell my story to the best of my ability--it seems wrong right now to try to tell her story.  One day I will.  Until then, I will get up every morning and try to attack my day like Gran did--a list of chores sprinkled with breaks to sit on the porch and take in the scene before me.

Lessons in Being Kind

Heather:

The spring is always a hectic time here at my small college nestled in the hills of West Virginia.  The last few weeks have been, for me, a blur of senior projects and campus events.  Our seniors begin taking their Comprehensive Exams on Monday and final exams commence the following week.  Baccalaureate and Commencement will quickly follow and then my students will scatter to the winds for internships, summer jobs, and first jobs. If I were an accountant, this would be my tax season.  I’ve had more cups of coffee today than I had hours of sleep last night and I’m not the only one.  My colleagues and I often compare this time of year to running a marathon at a sprint pace. 

I’m not complaining. 

Really, I’m not.  I love what I do.  I get to watch students make the journey from awkward first-year student to confident graduate.  They recommend music to me and I lend books to them.  They come to me with problems and I recommend solutions.  We laugh together, we sometimes cry together, and when the “plague” is running rampant on campus, we sneeze and cough together.  I consider myself lucky to be doing what I do.  There are times, however, when I don’t feel up to the task.  There are days when I don’t think I have my own life together enough to be able to offer life advice to anyone else.  For example, I’ve missed trash collection for the last three weeks.  Granted, I haven’t been home that much as I have been traveling a great deal to see Gran while she recovers, but three weeks? 

Someone take my adult card.

It’s in moments like this that I need to remember to be nicer to myself. 

This week I am going to start taking better care of myself.  I’m going to go to bed earlier, drink less coffee, and eat more veggies.  I might even take a field trip to a book store to wander up and down the aisles.  I’m going to remember that I can’t make it to every event and I’m not going to beat myself up when I miss one.

I’ll check back in a week and let you know how it’s going.  In the meantime, make good decisions and enjoy at least one sunset.

Sunset in Piedmont.

The Best Accessory

Courtney:

          Sorry for the absence.  I do believe that the ever lovely Ms. H. Taylor made reason as to why in her last post.  Gran is doing better, but there are some fears that can never be stifled.  I know that eventually we all pass on, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.  I feel worry and grief more deeply since my Papa Bear passed away.  It can be an inconvenience; however, it also makes me a little more understanding about the world and the people in my life. 

        

One of my very close friends lost her father suddenly last year.  He passed away a week or so before her wedding, so it made the heartbreak that much greater.  I had worked with him and considered him a friend as well.  Watching her go through the same motions I had a couple years before began to wear on me. I think I cried just as much for him as I did my own dad. 

        

The main problem for me was that I knew exactly how she was feeling. I didn’t want her to feel empty and gray.  I kept wishing that I could put her hurt into a cup and carry it for her.  I knew, though, that doing so was impossible.  And so, instead of carrying it for her, I shared in her grief.  Sometimes we talked or I talked while she wept.  The most powerful moments came when we said nothing at all.  We would just sit silently next to one another.  We could endure, together.  

        As destructive as grief can be there are things that cast light into the shadows.  A smile for instance.  A customer told me once that every time he came into the store and saw my smile it gave him hope.  I, of course, flashed him another smile, thanked him, and then went on about my shift.  It wasn’t until much later that I realized how high a compliment he had paid me, or how relevant his words would be to my life.

        I pay close attention to smiles now.  They are one of my favorite things.  There are polite smiles.  They are the ones we deal out when we don’t really want to smile or when we meet new people.  Then there is the unguarded greatness of a real smile.  I love how delicious the curve of the mouth is as the smile reaches up and kisses the eyes making them crinkle in the corners.  Like watching a flame, the soul, wake up and shine out of one’s eyes.  We are each other’s lantern through life in a way.

        “Don’t worry about the future; or worry but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum.”  Oh Baz, thank you for the advice.  I am trying harder to not spoil the now with too much worry.  So, I smile.  I smile for the warm spring day here in the Heart of it All.  I smile for my friend.  You, always, I smile for you.  Sometimes, when I am by myself, I even smile for myself.  

The Little Things

Heather:

Recent weeks have found me in four different states, three different homes, and two different hotels.  I've logged hundreds of miles in my car and hundreds more in a friend's car.  I've brewed many, many pots of coffee and steeped several cups of tea.

I have not done a single load of laundry.

Just over a week ago, Gran fell and broke both her left hip and her left shoulder.  Life came to a halt, as I frantically headed to the emergency room. Thus began a week of fracturing speed limit laws almost every time I got into the car.  A week ago yesterday, Gran had hip replacement surgery.  She's had a bout with pneumonia, but is doing much better.  How do I know?  She was mocking me last night for buying more books and we were able to play the entire game of Jeopardy. (It's my understanding that some people merely watch the show.  Gran and I have played along--keeping score--for about as long as I can remember.)  After a stint in rehab, she should be as good as new.

There were a few moments during all of this that I thought I might go crazy.  I was worried about Gran, trying to stay on top of things at work, and dealing with graduate school assignments.  My to-do list was daunting.  I felt myself sinking.

I didn't sink, though.

Why?  Because a neighbor called to see how Gran was getting along.  Because my boss's husband made trays of snacks and delivered them to me.  Because my students could tell I was having a hard time and they stepped up to help out.  Because Mom is the most selfless person I know.  Because a friend reminded me to see the beauty in ordinary things.  Because another friend drove 5 hours, one way, to have lunch with me.

I might get buried under the mountain of dirty laundry at my apartment, but I have learned that I can handle what life throws my way because I have good people around me.  I don't know why it's easier to focus on the negative things that happen, but we should all be spending more time on the positive things in our lives.  How have I practiced that this week?  Well, I started by trying to let go of some of my anger.  It's not something that will happen over night, but it's a start.  I've also sent cards.  You know--those things you write by hand, put a stamp on, and take to the post office.  Some have been cards of thanks, some cards to just say hello, and other cards to remind people that they rock.  A handwritten message has a way of brightening a day, but I also felt pretty good after posting them.  I also stopped to look at the daffodils that blanket sections of campus.  Something about the sunny flower always makes me smile.

It's been a bit of a battle--this focusing on the good and not snapping at people out of frustration and lack of sleep.  I think it's one worth fighting, though.

Here's your assignment.  Yeah, you read that correctly. I'm giving you an assignment.  Go outside today and see what nature has to offer you.  Maybe you'll spot a daffodil.  Maybe you'll hear birds chirping.  Maybe you'll find something that makes you smile.  Whatever you find, I bet it makes your day.