The loss is not yours alone, she said and you will see it in their eyes when they do not think you are watching. How long does it take? I said and she put her hand on my chest and we did not speak.
from their site: www.storypeople.com
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Another bad day
Thursdays seem to be bad days for me. Not sure why. I had another really hard day today. Doug hung out at the market all morning, and Micki was in today, which always makes me feel better. We did get a lot done, our grand opening is in nine days.
Finally Doug and I left around 1pm and went to Mozaic for lunch. He hadn't been before so it was a welcome retreat. It is so unbelievably beautiful here, and I was sorely in need of that reminder.
It isn't often that I'm down more than one day in a row, and usually by later in the day I feel better. And if I don't, I wake up the next morning ready to go again. There have been few times of exception in my life. I anticipate feeling ready to face the world again tomorrow morning.
One foot in front of the other, I just need to keep reminding myself of that. The reminders of mother's day around the corner do not help. I don't relish the idea of the days leading up to it or that day. It will be very difficult I'm sure.
Finally Doug and I left around 1pm and went to Mozaic for lunch. He hadn't been before so it was a welcome retreat. It is so unbelievably beautiful here, and I was sorely in need of that reminder.
It isn't often that I'm down more than one day in a row, and usually by later in the day I feel better. And if I don't, I wake up the next morning ready to go again. There have been few times of exception in my life. I anticipate feeling ready to face the world again tomorrow morning.
One foot in front of the other, I just need to keep reminding myself of that. The reminders of mother's day around the corner do not help. I don't relish the idea of the days leading up to it or that day. It will be very difficult I'm sure.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Snow Day
We had a snow day yesterday. Unbelievable. Couldn't see across the street; three, four and five foot drifts. It's supposed to be in the seventies this weekend. Colorado.
The good news is that I got the Art Hop website done. I know it looks a lot like the market's website, but at least they've got a website this year right? And it was free.
The good news is that I got the Art Hop website done. I know it looks a lot like the market's website, but at least they've got a website this year right? And it was free.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Grief Manifestation
Grief manifests itself if unpredictable ways. I picked Beckett up from school and there was a card in his cubby addressed to him. I waited until I got home to open it, and it was from his preschool teacher saying goodbye to him.
The next morning when I dropped him off I asked about his teacher. They confirmed that the day before had been her last day.
I cried for five hours. Literally. Uncontrollable sobbing. I just couldn't have one more person leave my life without saying goodbye.
Unexpected. Jarring. Wrenching. Awful.
The next morning when I dropped him off I asked about his teacher. They confirmed that the day before had been her last day.
I cried for five hours. Literally. Uncontrollable sobbing. I just couldn't have one more person leave my life without saying goodbye.
Unexpected. Jarring. Wrenching. Awful.
Friday, April 13, 2007
One Foot in Front of the Other
These days that's about all I can do. The art market is keeping me busy and for that I am thankful.
I have written so much here about how happy I am that we moved to Monument and have been continually surprised as it just seems to get better and better, never what one truly expects.
I am amazed every day by the extraordinary generosity exhibited by the people of this town. We had a meeting yesterday morning for the annual Art Hop, and most of the people there, many of whom have already given me a card, came up and expressed their sorrow about my mother, hugged me sincerely, and then many told me their own stories or somehow shared their empathy. With or without their own story of a loved one's passing, most had tears in their eyes.
One man shared that soon after his mother passed away, he also lost his brother. He lifted one of his feet and told me that his brother bought brand new running shoes just before he died, and now he wears them every day so he takes his brother with him everywhere he goes. The shoes are almost falling apart at this point and he said that when they do, he'll take them to Sabrina (who owns Bella Art & Frame) to have them put in a memory box that he will then keep displayed. I was so moved by this, as was Doug when I told him last night when I got home.
I haven't felt alone since I arrived home last week, and other than being with Doug, Frank and Beckett, little makes me happier than being in the market. Two women came in yesterday afternoon and bought a painting and some other things. As they were leaving, one said, "This is such a happy place, I don't want to leave. You've created a place where one just wants to stay, just to be here. It's so warm and inviting." Music to my ears as you can well imagine, just what I set out to do, so glad others are feeling it.
Another merchant yesterday introduced herself and told me she "was the one who wrote a card saying to call her about getting a massage." She went on to say that she didn't "just write that," she meant it, and at this time I needed to allow others to take care of me whether it was through hugs or a massage. Turns out, her Yoga and massage studios have just moved in across the street from the art market, and she walked over yesterday afternoon to say hello and give me logos and artwork for the Art Hop brochure. I will call her later and schedule a massage, because sometimes it is important to graciously accept what others want to do for you or give to you. It isn't always easy for us to do, but I know I am always pleased when someone allows me to do something for them that I've offered to do, and then feel closer to them from then on.
The ladies at the Gallery Center want to plant a tree in front of the art market in my mother's memory, and while Doug and I were initially hesitant, I am comfortable with and honored by their offer. I think it will be especially nice for Frank and Beckett and I will love to look at it and think about how it honors and celebrates her memory in a positive way that also signifies growth and how times moves on, with us or without us. Given there is nowhere else to "visit" her, or leave flowers as I do when we go to East Aurora and I go to St. John's Lutheran Church and I leave red geraniums at my grandparents' grave, this will provide a place to for her to "be."
I have much to do with the grand opening, Art Hops and day to day existence and I am thankful for that. I will continue to put one foot in front of the other and take things day by day. The hardest part is overcoming the urge to pick up the phone and tell my mother all these things.
I have written so much here about how happy I am that we moved to Monument and have been continually surprised as it just seems to get better and better, never what one truly expects.
I am amazed every day by the extraordinary generosity exhibited by the people of this town. We had a meeting yesterday morning for the annual Art Hop, and most of the people there, many of whom have already given me a card, came up and expressed their sorrow about my mother, hugged me sincerely, and then many told me their own stories or somehow shared their empathy. With or without their own story of a loved one's passing, most had tears in their eyes.
One man shared that soon after his mother passed away, he also lost his brother. He lifted one of his feet and told me that his brother bought brand new running shoes just before he died, and now he wears them every day so he takes his brother with him everywhere he goes. The shoes are almost falling apart at this point and he said that when they do, he'll take them to Sabrina (who owns Bella Art & Frame) to have them put in a memory box that he will then keep displayed. I was so moved by this, as was Doug when I told him last night when I got home.
I haven't felt alone since I arrived home last week, and other than being with Doug, Frank and Beckett, little makes me happier than being in the market. Two women came in yesterday afternoon and bought a painting and some other things. As they were leaving, one said, "This is such a happy place, I don't want to leave. You've created a place where one just wants to stay, just to be here. It's so warm and inviting." Music to my ears as you can well imagine, just what I set out to do, so glad others are feeling it.
Another merchant yesterday introduced herself and told me she "was the one who wrote a card saying to call her about getting a massage." She went on to say that she didn't "just write that," she meant it, and at this time I needed to allow others to take care of me whether it was through hugs or a massage. Turns out, her Yoga and massage studios have just moved in across the street from the art market, and she walked over yesterday afternoon to say hello and give me logos and artwork for the Art Hop brochure. I will call her later and schedule a massage, because sometimes it is important to graciously accept what others want to do for you or give to you. It isn't always easy for us to do, but I know I am always pleased when someone allows me to do something for them that I've offered to do, and then feel closer to them from then on.
The ladies at the Gallery Center want to plant a tree in front of the art market in my mother's memory, and while Doug and I were initially hesitant, I am comfortable with and honored by their offer. I think it will be especially nice for Frank and Beckett and I will love to look at it and think about how it honors and celebrates her memory in a positive way that also signifies growth and how times moves on, with us or without us. Given there is nowhere else to "visit" her, or leave flowers as I do when we go to East Aurora and I go to St. John's Lutheran Church and I leave red geraniums at my grandparents' grave, this will provide a place to for her to "be."
I have much to do with the grand opening, Art Hops and day to day existence and I am thankful for that. I will continue to put one foot in front of the other and take things day by day. The hardest part is overcoming the urge to pick up the phone and tell my mother all these things.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Heaven Knows
Not sure why, but I found "heaven knows" running through my head all day. I had to think about it to even recognize or remember what song it was, because there is only one part that seems to play over and over in my head, but the voices and music are so soothing it somehow comforts me, even though the words don't seem to really relate, or even matter.
While I am the first to admit how much I love music, I find myself somewhat puzzled by how often Syd's music moves me. I suppose it is because I know him personally, but I still find it unsettling, truly unsettling. I guess it doesn't really matter, just something I think about from time to time.
I do want to be careful though. When my grandfather died, I listened to Tuck & Patti's version of "Time After Time," too much. There was one part, "I'm walking too far ahead, you're calling to me, I can't hear what you said. Then you say, go slow, I fall behind, the second hand unwinds. If you're lost you can look and you will find me. If you fall I will catch you, I will be waiting." Still reminds me of him, and in a sad way, truth is it rips me apart. I wouldn't want that with Heaven Knows, I don't want it with any song. I don't really want to relive this pain over and over and over again whenever I hear any particular song.
While I am the first to admit how much I love music, I find myself somewhat puzzled by how often Syd's music moves me. I suppose it is because I know him personally, but I still find it unsettling, truly unsettling. I guess it doesn't really matter, just something I think about from time to time.
I do want to be careful though. When my grandfather died, I listened to Tuck & Patti's version of "Time After Time," too much. There was one part, "I'm walking too far ahead, you're calling to me, I can't hear what you said. Then you say, go slow, I fall behind, the second hand unwinds. If you're lost you can look and you will find me. If you fall I will catch you, I will be waiting." Still reminds me of him, and in a sad way, truth is it rips me apart. I wouldn't want that with Heaven Knows, I don't want it with any song. I don't really want to relive this pain over and over and over again whenever I hear any particular song.
Two Things About Frankie
There are two things that came to mind today that I want to be sure to remember about Frankie. One is, his shirts are always buttoned incorrectly. It is the cutest thing. He's always off at least one button, always. Oh, and he always puts his turtlenecks on backwards. It's never a fifty-fifty thing, they're always backwards. But that isn't the second thing.
The second thing is how he looks at someone passing away. A couple of years ago, when the pope died, Frank caught glimpses of some of the media coverage. He came to me and said, "I don't understand Mom, why are all these people crying?" I told him they were sad because the pope died. He said, "That doesn't make any sense. This is the happiest day of his life, he gets to go to HEAVEN." He really emphasized the word heaven, with so much feeling that I envied his conviction.
When my mother's dog, Trooper, died a few weeks ago, he echoed the same opinion. He said, "Mom, can you IMAGINE what dog heaven must be like?" He said it with such enthusiastic veracity, I once again found myself envying the depth of his belief.
True to form, Frank is quiet and cautious with me right now. However, Micki told me that Doug and Frank stopped by the market either while I was gone or right after I got back. She asked him how he was doing and he walked right over to hug her, which was probably more letting her hug him. I feel that way about her too. I am thankful for her presence every day.
The second thing is how he looks at someone passing away. A couple of years ago, when the pope died, Frank caught glimpses of some of the media coverage. He came to me and said, "I don't understand Mom, why are all these people crying?" I told him they were sad because the pope died. He said, "That doesn't make any sense. This is the happiest day of his life, he gets to go to HEAVEN." He really emphasized the word heaven, with so much feeling that I envied his conviction.
When my mother's dog, Trooper, died a few weeks ago, he echoed the same opinion. He said, "Mom, can you IMAGINE what dog heaven must be like?" He said it with such enthusiastic veracity, I once again found myself envying the depth of his belief.
True to form, Frank is quiet and cautious with me right now. However, Micki told me that Doug and Frank stopped by the market either while I was gone or right after I got back. She asked him how he was doing and he walked right over to hug her, which was probably more letting her hug him. I feel that way about her too. I am thankful for her presence every day.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
My Mom
My mother died this past Tuesday. I flew to California on Wednesday and came home on Thursday. The complexities of what my mother did in terms of her will and trust are things I will never write about and would prefer to simply forget.
These have been among the hardest days of my life so far, and the only thing that has saved me from completely falling apart is that my husband has continually reminded me through his words and actions that he loves me, far more than I've probably ever realized he did. And my children have shown how much they love and care about me and even though they're just little guys, they are most worried about their mommy and that is their only concern. And my friends, both in California and here have shown how much they care about me. In California my friends surrounded me through their presence and phone calls in such a way that I felt enveloped in a hug from them the entire time I was there.
Since I've been back here, friends and acquaintances, fellow merchants and people I don't believe I even know, have sent cards, stopped by to offer their condolences, sent flowers, given us dinner and come by to give me a hug. And I've only been home a little over twenty-four hours.
I miss my mom. She was supposed to be here right now. She was supposed to fly in on the same flight I came home on. I was not ready for this, I expected her to drive me crazy well into her nineties. I don't want to think about this weekend without her here and I don't want to think about the next few months without the possibility of seeing her at least every other month. I want to wake up and find this was a horrible dream, or that someone made a mistake and she isn't really dead.
I told Doug Tuesday night that I couldn't shake the feeling that I should call my mother. After all, something happened, whenever some happened, I called my mother. I can't imagine ever being able to shake that feeling.
These have been among the hardest days of my life so far, and the only thing that has saved me from completely falling apart is that my husband has continually reminded me through his words and actions that he loves me, far more than I've probably ever realized he did. And my children have shown how much they love and care about me and even though they're just little guys, they are most worried about their mommy and that is their only concern. And my friends, both in California and here have shown how much they care about me. In California my friends surrounded me through their presence and phone calls in such a way that I felt enveloped in a hug from them the entire time I was there.
Since I've been back here, friends and acquaintances, fellow merchants and people I don't believe I even know, have sent cards, stopped by to offer their condolences, sent flowers, given us dinner and come by to give me a hug. And I've only been home a little over twenty-four hours.
I miss my mom. She was supposed to be here right now. She was supposed to fly in on the same flight I came home on. I was not ready for this, I expected her to drive me crazy well into her nineties. I don't want to think about this weekend without her here and I don't want to think about the next few months without the possibility of seeing her at least every other month. I want to wake up and find this was a horrible dream, or that someone made a mistake and she isn't really dead.
I told Doug Tuesday night that I couldn't shake the feeling that I should call my mother. After all, something happened, whenever some happened, I called my mother. I can't imagine ever being able to shake that feeling.
Monday, April 02, 2007
So DAMN Good
Okay, I've said this over and over and over again. Syd is just so damn good. He's got two songs from his new CD on his myspace page (what a tease), and they are both so good I can't stand it. Give 'em a listen.
In case I haven't mentioned it ten million times yet, Syd is going to be at Second Street Art Market for our grand opening on May 5. That's May 5th, Second Street Art Market, in Monument, Colorado. Will you be there too???
In case I haven't mentioned it ten million times yet, Syd is going to be at Second Street Art Market for our grand opening on May 5. That's May 5th, Second Street Art Market, in Monument, Colorado. Will you be there too???
Bu-ti-ful
Beckett's word of the moment is beautiful, pronounced bu-ti-ful. Everything is butiful, his matchbox cars, "Mommy, look this car is buuu-ti-ful."
Tonight he came upstairs, wearing only his pull-up, carrying Frank's old Ninja Turtle costume and asked me to help him put it on. He said, "Mommy, you help me put dis on, make me butiful. I be butiful Mom." Um, okay, Ninja Turtles = beautiful. Gotta look for beauty everywhere I guess.
Tonight he came upstairs, wearing only his pull-up, carrying Frank's old Ninja Turtle costume and asked me to help him put it on. He said, "Mommy, you help me put dis on, make me butiful. I be butiful Mom." Um, okay, Ninja Turtles = beautiful. Gotta look for beauty everywhere I guess.
Water Sick and Orange Sick
Beckett calls Pedialyte (Clear), Water Sick and Pedialtye (Orange), Orange Sick. And now he's better. He slept off and on all day today, and when he woke up this afternoon, his tummy had recovered. Much relief. He ate a hearty dinner and kept saying how good it was.
He was trying to get me to go to the grocery store this afternoon and when I said no, he got a little ornery with me. Then he smiled and was playful about it. He looked just like his cousin Quentin when he did it. It was eerie.
He was trying to get me to go to the grocery store this afternoon and when I said no, he got a little ornery with me. Then he smiled and was playful about it. He looked just like his cousin Quentin when he did it. It was eerie.
Skype, Beck's Sick and Knowing Who You Are
Poor little Beckett has the stomach flu, again. He hasn't kept anything down since Saturday, so I'm going to try to take him in to the doctor today just to make sure he's not too dehydrated. Once when we were in Mammoth, he got so dehydrated he had to spend four or five hours on IV until his fluids got replenished and his fever and heart rate went down. He's soooo hungry and thirsty, which is the hardest part, but then he just loses everything.
I've been trying to get Timbuktu set up so I can access the market computer from home and vice versa, but haven't had much luck with all the firewall, router, port nonsense one has to go through in order to make it work. Yesterday I went to the Timbuktu website and there on the home page, they really made a HUGE thing of Skype. My friend Bonnie had encouraged me to get Skype, but I've had a little bit on my mind and never got around to it.
As it turns out, supposedly if two computers are set up with Skype, it is easy to use Timbuktu. I haven't exactly figured that part out yet, but I think I'm close. HOWEVER, for at least a year, maybe longer, I have periodically tried to figure out iChat videoconferencing, also to little success.
Signed up for Skype and voila, the entire Buchman clan is now videoconferencing up a storm. So glad to have ONE computer issue resolved. I also installed a new system on Frank and Beck's computer and now somehow they no longer have airport functionality. I'm so frustrated about that I can't even tell you. Certain things are just supposed to work, and having been a Mac geek since 1998, and Apples prior to that, I've always been able to figure everything out myself. While I love OSX, I guess, the obstacles I've faced with the higher level of operating system sophistication, meaning it works better on a network and no longer allows people to "mess up" their system, also means for me that I can no longer figure out how to "fix" things.
The third subject mentioned in the title of this post, is knowing who you are. Or maybe it would've been better stated by "knowing who I am." I am forty-four years old, and last night it occured to me that at this time of my life, I actually feel comfortable with who I am and what my life is about. I certainly hope the store makes money, sooner rather than later, but otherwise, I don't have "doubt." Moving here was the smartest, best possible thing we could have done. Each member of our family is happier here, and all for different reasons. Beckett gets to spend more time with us instead of caregivers, Frank loves the laided back lifestyle, how much friendlier and nicer everyone is. Now that we have a planned source of income, Doug is relaxing and enjoying the beauty of this place. The landscape of this environment is all about the kinds of things he loves, the hiking trails are endless, and most unmarked, which he has decided should be his legacy. He's entering the John Muir stage of his life I think.
Anyway, I could go on forever, but I have to go to Safeway and get some pedialyte for Beckett.
I've been trying to get Timbuktu set up so I can access the market computer from home and vice versa, but haven't had much luck with all the firewall, router, port nonsense one has to go through in order to make it work. Yesterday I went to the Timbuktu website and there on the home page, they really made a HUGE thing of Skype. My friend Bonnie had encouraged me to get Skype, but I've had a little bit on my mind and never got around to it.
As it turns out, supposedly if two computers are set up with Skype, it is easy to use Timbuktu. I haven't exactly figured that part out yet, but I think I'm close. HOWEVER, for at least a year, maybe longer, I have periodically tried to figure out iChat videoconferencing, also to little success.
Signed up for Skype and voila, the entire Buchman clan is now videoconferencing up a storm. So glad to have ONE computer issue resolved. I also installed a new system on Frank and Beck's computer and now somehow they no longer have airport functionality. I'm so frustrated about that I can't even tell you. Certain things are just supposed to work, and having been a Mac geek since 1998, and Apples prior to that, I've always been able to figure everything out myself. While I love OSX, I guess, the obstacles I've faced with the higher level of operating system sophistication, meaning it works better on a network and no longer allows people to "mess up" their system, also means for me that I can no longer figure out how to "fix" things.
The third subject mentioned in the title of this post, is knowing who you are. Or maybe it would've been better stated by "knowing who I am." I am forty-four years old, and last night it occured to me that at this time of my life, I actually feel comfortable with who I am and what my life is about. I certainly hope the store makes money, sooner rather than later, but otherwise, I don't have "doubt." Moving here was the smartest, best possible thing we could have done. Each member of our family is happier here, and all for different reasons. Beckett gets to spend more time with us instead of caregivers, Frank loves the laided back lifestyle, how much friendlier and nicer everyone is. Now that we have a planned source of income, Doug is relaxing and enjoying the beauty of this place. The landscape of this environment is all about the kinds of things he loves, the hiking trails are endless, and most unmarked, which he has decided should be his legacy. He's entering the John Muir stage of his life I think.
Anyway, I could go on forever, but I have to go to Safeway and get some pedialyte for Beckett.
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