Embrace The Suck

"Life is a succession of lessons, which must be lived to be understood." Ralph Waldo Emerson The quote above was from t he Daily Love email I get everyday. I didn't read it until now. If I'd gotten my lazy ass out of bed this morning and read it then, I might have gone into the afternoon with a different mindset. Maybe I would have felt braver, or at least open to new understandings. I signed up recently for an 8-week session of something called the Mourner's Path. I heard about it several years ago. After my mother died I considered taking the facilitator's course before taking the "griever's" course. I don't always pay attention to celestial arrows that point me towards things I would probably not do on my own. But sometimes I am aware of a gently nudging, like the cat making room in the middle of the bed by pushing me closer to the edge inch by inch. For weeks, even as I tried to ignore them, I've been getting reminders that the cla...

I'd be hard pressed to pick my favorite Spring flower. But right up there near the top is the sunny yellow daffodil. This is the time of year to be living in the Northwest if you are a bulb lover. Tulip and Daffodil fields line the highways and every house has their own supply. I haven't seen the first daffodil this year until today. My sister sent me this picture. The flowers are from the flowering of the cross at her church. Once the service was over the church ladies were going to toss these beauties because they don't smell so good. What? Toss them as in throw them away? My sweet sister, Linda Lu, is a natural born savior of cats, dogs, nieces and nephews, sisters and now daffodils. I have added seeing a whole Easter cross covered in 50 varieties of daffodils to my bucket list. Be still my heart, I swoon at the very thought of such beauty. On that note I leave you with a daffodil poem. It is like an exclamation point at the end of a gorgeous Easter Day! Daffodils I wand...

"Our Lord has written the promise of the resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in spring-time." Martin Luther Newly baptized Aidan Christian I'm not sure which looks more delicious - Maya Champagne or the bag full of candy. Whatever your religious beliefs (or if you have none) today is a day for celebrating. New life... New hope...The promise of something better to come. As a Christian, I don't think I ever wanted to believe in the Resurrection more than I have this year. I can't imagine what it would have been like when my father took his last breath if I didn't know in my soul that he was going to a better place to be (re)joined with his friends, his family and my mom. He seemed afraid and worried there at the end. He asked repeatedly for a priest's assurance of forgiveness and life everlasting. For me there was a perfect peace in his passing from this life to the next. Call it drugs if you want to. I call it love of the Creator who led Dad...

It's been three months since my dad passed away. In some ways it feels like a lifetime ago, in others just yesterday. A couple of nights ago I sat upright in bed when I heard him call me. No matter that everything has changed since then, I heard his voice and my body reacted. I've begun to feel alive again. Like the budding trees turning green. But it doesn't take much more than a thought or a word to make my tears start flowing again. I no longer climb into bed and curl into a ball. Instead I just let the tears fall, feel the sadness and keep on going. That sounds like a lot of improvement until I admit I don't have much ambition so the "keep on going" part isn't like moving up the final slope of Mt. Everest. There is still much to be done to get our house back in order. It's livable to the half of Ellington-Cook family who is not hard wired to hanging pictures and emptying the endless parade of boxes that make their way into the house from the ga...

[In My Dreams!] Is it just me, or does this happen to anyone else? Let's say you're driving down the road and the Skater's Waltz comes on the radio, are you instantly transported to another time and place? Do you imagine that you are on a frozen pond, dressed in a blue wool coat trimmed in fur with a matching hat and muff, and white skates laced up tight so you can swoosh from one side of the lake to the other doing spins and axels without your ankles giving way? Do you channel your inner Sonja Henie or Kristi Yamaguci? I swear I've only ever been ice skating once or twice in my life, and that was more than 50 years ago. I can say with all honesty that while I remember standing up and moving on the ice, it was not graceful and I only went in one direction, around a circle, near the edge of the rink. It's weird, don't you think, that reality seems to have no say when I hear music that conjures up a wintry scene and a talent I've never possessed except in ...

The Humane Story told us Miss Suzi Q she was corralled by the county dog catcher. She came with no other history than that. We asked the questions but the answers were vague. House broken? Who knows? Good with cats? Can't tell ya. Gets into the garbage when no one is looking? We can't say for sure but she must have been used to foraging for food cause she doesn't look starved. We fell in love immediately so the answers were kind of a mute point. We'd deal with what we had to deal with. Perhaps we should have given the whole bringing a new dog home from the pound some more thought. House broken? Mostly. I can say that our brand new carpet has been properly (or improperly as the case may be) Christened. This doesn't make us happy, but Sweetie and I take responsibility because even though she seems to have a bladder as big as Lake Tahoe the bird brained canine doesn't quite grasp the concept of going outside to pee. Outside is for barking. Good with other do...

"How did he do that?" In the last week I've noticed a definite up turn in my emotions. I can't say why or how. I just know I don't feel the heavy burden of grief bearing down on my shoulders anymore. I've caught myself both laughing and singing. As the veil of grief lifts I can see more clearly. Not just the tasks at hand. I can see a future waiting for me to make a move. Oh sure, I'm still very tentative. I'm not yet in a place of full trust. I'm holding on tight to my green security blanket and keeping the Kleenex close. One never knows when the next tsunami will hit. I am, however, taking baby steps towards what will be. Even as I write that, I chuckle because really I have no clue "what will be" so how can I move toward it. I think, the first step is in believing there is something else to do. My life is not over because my Dad is gone. Perhaps my life is on the brink of just beginning. I see a whole world of opportunity. I just have...

"Oh Susie Q, Baby I love you Susie Q." One of my father's oft repeated sayings was: "The best way to get over losing a pet is to go right out and get another one." That's kind of the way he dealt with his emotions. Don't feel the loss. Cover it up with something else. (Note to self...perhaps this is the same as packing away all that BluebellDutch Chocolate ice cream.) I suppose getting a new pet isn't as detrimental as say gin or vodka. When Black Beauty died, Dad wanted a new dog. While my heart could have applied the "new dog" theory, all Sweetie and I could see was more work. Beauty was an old dog that required little more than good food, a soft bed and lots of love. Her days of walking around the block or playing fetch were over. I didn't see how we (I) would add dog training/walking/playing into my already busy schedule. And, truth be told, there wasn't enough room on Dad's bed for a dog, which, in essence, was what he want...