Navigating the 'New Normal'

Twenty days.
Twenty gut wrenching, painful days since Laura passed.
She wasn't supposed to die. I tell, sometimes yelling this to her in the middle of the night.
We were together since we were only teens and were allowed 40 years together. We have buried a child together, buried all of our grandparents together. We laid her mother and my father to rest.
We have witnessed the birth and growth of our two beautiful children, one until she was 27 and the other into a strong family man.
We were there for the birth of our one and only grandchild, who was the absolute apple of Laura's eye.
We have been through so many fights that we lost count.
Our bond was especially strong in the last few years.
We have shared in the joy of traveling together on  many occasions. We traveled so well together.
Laura and I launched a business with her mom back in the 90's that grew until we had reached the goals that we had set for the business.
We built her dream house together, along with family and friends.
My love and I have enjoyed financial prosperity and weathered financial storms, always with her reminding me that we were a team-that we could get through anything together.
So how to weather this?
She was my rock and my solitude.
Now she is gone and I am damn near going mad.

Many friends and family members have given me support and advice.
But sometimes, the pain hits again and I lose it.
I'm told that the pain will eventually subside, but I cannot see that now.
I can only see an empty chair. An unfilled coffee cup. An empty bed.
The birds, usually plentiful on our deck this time of year, have all but deserted the place.
It is cold and it is so, so very lonely.

I know that I will survive this.
I'll keep getting up, making the coffee, paying the bills and goung to work each day.
I'll pick up my granddaughter and hold her tight. I'll hug my son like I never have before.
And I'll keep writing.
It helps a little.


I'll leave it at that for now.

A Great Loss

I am so confused now. I am in shock. I am so very sad and numb.
Laura, my wife, my all and the love of my life for over 40 years left this earth.
Where do I go now?
She was my rock, my partner, my teammate and my very reason for existence.
Now she is gone.
We had a celebration of her life on the first Saturday in December. She wanted that. No mournful funeral for her. No way! She always left those affairs with sadness and did not want anyone walking away with sad thoughts of her. She was life! She loved smiles and happy thoughts.
Her celebration was attended by over a hundred friends and family members who came from near and far to share stories of Laura. Most were stories that I had never heard before.
It was a joyous celebration.
After our daughter Ruth Elizabeth passed in 2002, we did the whole mortuary/service thing. It was a very sad affair. Afterwards her family and friends gathered at my mom's house for food and, while gathered around the big fire that my brother had built outside, the stories that were shared about Ruth E. started flowing like the wine which was being served. There was laughing and a celebration of her life. When we got home, Laura said "that's how I want to be remembered. No 'bad organ music', no trying to save souls, just a fond remembrance of how I lived-not how I died". We tried to respect her wishes. I think we honored that wish. Everyone said that it was the most beautiful way to honor someone's life. After every shared story a toast was made in Laura's honor.

I went back to work today.
My co-workers have been very supportive and kind. They've even offered to help me sort through Laura's clothes and determine which to sell (Laura was in retail for years and has so many things that still have the tags on them) and which to donate. They are a very sweet bunch!
Our friends.
What can I say? The outpouring of love and support has been overwhelming. It's no secret why we are friends. The love that they had for my wife was almost equal to the love that I carried for her for years and years. They displayed this love in deeds and in kind, loving words as I walked around in a state of shock.
Our family.
Our dad, Charles Pete Reid, demanded that we always love our brothers and sister. He would have it no other way. The issues that he had as a child with his family gave rise to his attitude that we would always have each other, no matter what. And we have remained true to his ideal. Only once was this tested and our taking on a building project together helped to mend that small rip.
My son, who has now lost a sister and a mom, has been strong, and makes of me a very proud father. He stepped up and proved that he was the man that we always thought him to be.
His wife and her mom. Angels here on earth best describes them.
My beautiful grand daughter Fiona. My heart and now, my very reason for hanging around on this earth as long as possible. Laura made me promise that I would dance with her on her wedding day. I will try my very hardest to fulfill that request.

Where to go from here?
I really don't know. I was only 18 when Laura and I first began dating and 19 when we married. I am now 59.
I only know that I will drag myself out of bed each morning and go through the motions. I will eat, shower, go to work and come back home to the most empty home that I have ever been inside of.
I will learn to do laundry, to cook and to tend to Fiona's childhood cuts and scrapes
I will attempt to set up a tent alone, learn how to make campfire biscuits and tell campfire stories with the same flourish that Laura had.
I will.
I will because she would have wanted it this way.
I will honor her and remember 40 years of love, hardship, joy and pain.
I will focus on the good and allow the bad times to fall from my memory.
Each time that I see a bird I will think of her. She loved birds and kept food out on the deck for them as much as possible.
Each time that I hear her best friend Martha play a tune on her guitar, I will see her smiling.
I will share stories of her, especially with Fiona. She needs to remember just what a wonderful, loving MaLa that she had.
I will.

DST Baby!

Daylight Freakin' Savings Time. Another bi-annual tradition that just boggles the mind, interrupts the cicadian rhythm and, after the fall back, depresses the senses.
I do remember when DST was brought back in the 1970s due to the energy crisis. I was totally elated, as a kid, to be outside playing until almost 9PM in the sun, albeit a setting sun. Never could understand why the parents were calling us home at that time...after all, the sun was just setting!
I have wavered on the issue through the years, sometimes appreciating the extra daylight, sometimes cursing it (losing an hour's sleep comes to mind). Does it help farmers? According to a survey, farmers generally oppose daylight saving time. In Indiana, where part of the state observes DST and part does not, farmers have opposed a move to DST. Farmers, who must wake with the sun no matter what time their clock says, are greatly inconvenienced by having to change their schedule in order to sell their crops to people who observe daylight saving time.
Now-let's get the government involved.
Congress appears to have felt we were not having enough of a difficult time so in 2007 they passed a law starting Daylight Savings time 3 weeks earlier and ending it one week later. This cost US companies billions to reset automated equipment, put us further out of sync with Asia and Africa time-wise, inconvenienced most of the country, all in the name of unproven studies that claim we save energy. Does it save energy? The jury is still out on that. But it does screw up my sleep patterns.
According to Dr. Samuel Friedlander, assistant clinical professor of Sleep Medicine and Allergy Immunology at UH Cleveland Medical Center while it is great to have the extra hour of sleep, a few days later that can lead to worse sleep. as it can lead to insomnia or sleepiness
While I can't claim insomnia (my old ass can pretty much get to sleep with a melatonin or two), I do notice that my normal sleep patterns change after the fall back change.
Could this just be older age?

Tree Swing

"And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon.
Little Boy Blue and The Man in the Moon.
When you coming home dad I don't know when;
but we'll get together then son...we're gonna have a good time then".

These iconic, haunting words by the late great Harry Chapin come to mind often when I spend time with my granddaughter Fiona.
As my kids were growing up, I was, like most my age a busy, often absent father. Due to business and other concerns, I left the formation of my children's early growth processes to others. For example, when Michael needed to build a car for his cub scout group he was turned over to his granddad. When Ruth Elizabeth needed to be corrected for something that she had done wrong, mom and dad were out of town on business and it was left to the relative in charge. Now don't get me wrong. I was not a totally absent father. I spent as much time as possible with both of them and loved the time that I did get to spend. Vacations, holidays, family gatherings, I tried to be as much a part of all these events as I could. And I loved just spending time with them. We had great kids! Well mannered, intelligent and talented as all get out! It was never an issue asking someone to watch them as they were such a pleasure to be around. My point is - as parents, especially young parents, we often overlook the seemingly small things which shape our kids.
Until Ruth E passed away, when I looked at this bright, beautiful young lady hitting her mid-twenties, I thought just how much she took after he mother. She was becoming Laura 2.0. Proud, loud, sometimes brash and not afraid to state her needs. She would often complain to me about her mom's mannerisms and how much some of them annoyed her. I always laughed inside as I knew that if she really looked hard in the mirror, she would see that she was speaking about herself. And as Michael approaches age 40, I see various traits that I had as a younger man in him. The fact that they turned out so well tells me that our, and everyone else that had a part in their upbringing, did a pretty damn good job. Or-they may have turned out so well in spite of their experiences. Whatever it was, I am proud to be the dad of a couple of good ones!
All that being said, I think that I finally understand what is so great about being a grandparent:
Second chances.
This weekend we built a tree swing for Fiona. Now this is something that I would have done for Ruth E or Michael when they were this age. After all, I did put the Barbie Dream House together for Christmas for Ruth E and erected the sliding board/swing set for Michael when they were younger.  No-it's not about that. It was my attitude while building the tree swing. It had to be perfect...it had to have the appearance of being a bit dangerous while at the same time being safer than a store-bought swing, and I had to spend time with her for each and every swing! None of the "build it and let her go and play on it while I do something else". No! I would push her, she would push me, and this went on most of the day. Sure the football game was on in the house but I didn't care. There would be another game next week, next month, next year. But my granddaughter would never be this age at this moment in time ever again. And with a new, "dangerous" swing that we had to break in, I would not miss this opportunity for anything in the world.
My friend Casey said it best: "Fiona will remember this day for the rest of her life!" And I am honored to be a part of that memory!
"When you coming home son I don't know when.
But we'll get together then dad.
You know we'll have a good time then".