The End of a Difficult Year

2023 has been a challenge for me, from beginning to end.  Although I am grateful for many things that happened this year, it knocked the wind out of me in other ways.  The year began with a visit to New Orleans and my daughter, and I am extremely grateful for that, although at the time it broke my heart.   Though we talked almost daily, I had not seen Ruth in person for over five years, for a variety of reasons.  Some of those reasons were mine, and I regret my reluctance to visit; Ruth was always excited for me to come, but her addiction interfered more each time, and the past several visits were disappointing to both of us because she was only able to “get it together” to see me once or twice during my week-long visits.  I could not justify the expense to travel there and spend a week alone, and she could not stay sober, so I put off visiting more than I should have.  Then, too, she spent some of those years in jail or in rehab.  She was not able to come to my wedding because she could not leave the state, and then there was Covid.  So way too much time went by between visits.  I am grateful that we talked all the time, all those years, whenever we could.   Even last January, when I was available to be with her 24-7, we only got together for three short visits, despite both our plans to the contrary.   When I saw her I was shocked at how her health had deteriorated since the last time we had been together.  So shocked by her appearance, in fact, that I did not take our usual ‘selfie’ before I left for home, which of course I deeply regret.  But Ruth promised me and herself that she was ready to fully commit to rehab, and we talked and cheered her on over the next weeks, both of us hopeful because this was the first time she had really, really wanted to get help.  Her social worker promised that she was going to a long-term facility and would be there for a month or more, and she couldn’t wait.  I sent her a duffle bag I’d made, packed with the labeled belongings she was told to bring, and I had a box ready to mail with the items the facility said I could provide.  Ruth called me when she arrived and she was excited to begin, but only a few days later she called again to say that there was an “insurance problem” and they were sending her home until they could straighten it out.  She arrived home on a Friday to find another woman with her boyfriend in their apartment, wearing her clothes, but she promised me that her focus remained on sobriety despite the hurt and sadness.  We were in almost constant touch as she tried to process her next steps.  She was dead a few days later.

Ruth was found on a Friday in March and that is her official date of death, but I had talked to her several times the previous Monday and could not reach her after that, despite dozens of attempts.  Her boyfriend left her alone Monday night, passed out on the bed, and he was the one who found her in the same place when he finally returned home the following Friday, so I believe she died on Monday evening and was already dying or  even dead when he left.  

As I told her constantly, I was proud of Ruth; she was brave and creative and hopeful and kind to others, but undermined by outside forces and experiences, many of which were beyond her control.  She struggled much of her life with PTSD, along with other diagnoses.  I have wished a million times that I could have done a better job of protecting her, that I could go back to find the thread of her life and stop it from unraveling.   I’ve been told by several people that there will come a time when I am grateful, at least, that Ruth no longer  has to struggle, but I doubt that will happen unless I get over the fact that she had to suffer at all, and I don’t see that happening anytime soon.  Talk of religion only makes me bitter.

Every moment of the remainder of the year was tainted by the loss of my youngest child, and of course that undercurrent will be with me for the rest of my life.  But the year also brought many things I am grateful to have experienced.  This year marked the high school graduation and start of college for my oldest grandchild, an extremely talented musician and mathematician, who brings me joy every time I think of him.   I saw him and his sister perform with their orchestra several times, including a performance of a piece composed by my grandson.  That was a special thrill.  This is the senior year of high school for my next oldest grand, who is a stellar student, a talented musician and artist who also delights my soul.  

In a very different way than with Ruth, I am so proud of them both.  With Ruth my pride was always tinged with regret for the things she had suffered, and my memories are touched with the same.  With the grands, my feelings have no such conflict.  They are both accomplished and smart and doing remarkable things, but my pride and joy in them stems mostly from how decent and thoughtful they are.  They are genuinely nice people.  I want them to be happy but beyond that, it doesn’t matter to me what they choose to do or become.  They are enough in themselves to make me proud.  And both of them seem to be level-headed and to have a foundation of  love and confidence that makes me so very happy.

My son and his wife celebrated their 22nd anniversary this year and as always, I am amazed at how time has flown by since I first met and fell in love with the woman my beloved son would eventually marry and raise children with.  They and their family are certainly the best thing in my life, always.  And in my birth family, two of my siblings, both with severe health issues, continued to do better than anyone expects, and I am grateful for the time we’ve had together, and which we cherish more every year.  Meanwhile my third sibling, the healthiest of the lot, continues to run marathons and break records in his age group.  Jack's children live close by and we are grateful to be able to spend time with them so often.

Jack and I are getting older, and that is also a matter of good fortune.  We feel lucky to be doing it together.   

And my little “bonus” grandson, born to my step-daughter two and a half years ago, is a bright and beautiful delight.  His messy kisses, sticky fingers and cute little demands are wonderful in themselves, but they also bring memories of all the other children I’ve loved as they moved through those darling toddler years.

Because Jack and I have Covid I will be missing our annual Chocolate Fondue New Year's celebration, my favorite holiday of the year, and I am very sad about that.  There is something special about a tradition that goes all the way back to when my son was a little boy, and I look forward to it all year, which has nothing to do with the chocolate.   So I will miss being with my family, as we all get older and more spread out, our times together are more precious every year.  Besides the concern of infection, this virus has knocked me flat; I feel terrible.  So I'm not happy about any of it, but maybe I can find some small benefit in having this evening of quiet reflection.  In some ways it is a fitting way to end a difficult year.

It has been a difficult year, but I remain luckier than most and grateful for all the good.   I will try to focus on that in the coming year.  Here's hoping that 2024 will bring peace and health to all of us.

Covid Calling

Jack and I have been very lucky; almost everyone we know has had Covid at one time or another since the pandemic began, and my sister is still suffering the devastating effects of Long Covid.  We have taken advantage of every vaccination, and have been careful to avoid crowds as much as possible.   But things finally came home to roost this week, when Jack tested positive for Covid a couple of days after Christmas.   His symptoms are mild, but it means he will miss our annual New Year’s Eve chocolate fondue, my favorite event of the year.   And now we are waiting to see whether it means that I will miss it, too.   Jack and I are keeping distance between us to try to stop the spread.  I feel like I am coming down with a cold, but so far I have tested negative for Covid.  Fingers crossed . . . 

Edging Into Summer

Jack was out of town for the weekend at his brother Mark’s estate sale in southern Illinois.  There was a  lot of work to get ready for the auction so it was not the restful family time that he really craved, but he was be glad that he went.  He took the trip by train with his son Zachary, and enjoyed the extra time with Zack but it was a short trip and they were both exhausted by the end of it.  Here at home I was surprised at how big and empty the house felt as soon as he was gone.  I lived alone for years and have no problem with a singular life, and since we are both in and out most days, being home alone for a few hours is certainly not unusual for either of us now.  So it was interesting how alone I suddenly was even in the first hours while he was on his way to the station.  But of course I adjusted and have to admit, I sort of enjoyed the miracle of a house that remained clean even if I averted my gaze.  Even so, we were both glad to have him  home again.

My grandson’s high school graduation party was this past weekend, too, which is the reason I did not go with Jack.  I know I have a slight bias, but I thought it was a wonderful party.   The weather was perhaps just a bit too hot and sunny, but gorgeous.  The guests were a diverse combination of people — relatives, work colleagues of his parents, neighbors, former teachers, friends, even my older brother! — just a nice mix of people coming together to celebrate him.  And the food, from a Middle Eastern restaurant I had not yet visited, was fantastic.  I had such a nice time.  I am finding that time with my family provides more healing and comfort than anything else.

I have managed a bit of sewing, although it is still slow going.    I finished a quilt top today and am sewing some napkins with random fat quarters that I will put away  to include with gifts.  It has been a very slow sewing year but I am hoping to start getting more done.  My list of unfinished and undone projects seems endless.  Instead of sewing - or cleaning, or cooking - I am spending way too much time sitting in my chair with a book or my laptop, but as a result I have really been able to enjoy the orioles that feed at the window grape jelly station.  The undergrowth out back makes it nearly impossible to see deer or other critters, but the birds are regular visitors and we do enjoy them.  We are enjoying the chipmunks a little less -- I have only one cherry tomato plant and the little rascally rodents delight in taking a single bite out of every tomato they can reach.  

I have been lazy about meal planning lately but the local Farmers’ Markets are starting to get good and I hope that will give me some inspiration!  Today I found strawberries, cherries, zucchini, tomatoes, radishes and snap peas!  It’s starting to be the best, however brief, time of year here.  Jack will, I predict, be a very happy fella if I start cooking more regularly again!

Life Goes On

It is still chilly here most days, but there has been a bit more sunshine, which I appreciate.  My sister and I spent a day at a spa about half-way between our two homes, and I think she enjoyed it.  I discovered (again) that my  muscles are so tight that massage hurts more than it helps, but I did have a lovely facial.  And I have sparkly polish on my toe nails.  It was good to do something different, very self indulgent, and with absolutely no pressure.

My grandson is finished with high school and has had a hectic month or so.  Since mid-May, he played a concerto solo at his last performance with the Saginaw Bay Youth Orchestra, he traveled to Dallas as a finalist in the International Science Fair, he graduated (with honors) from high school, and he went on vacation to Washington (the State) for a week.  There he hiked Mt. Rainier, spent a day on a beach. and visited the Hoh rainforest, but the thing I was most envious of was an incredibly close encounter with orcas, which swam right up to and under the boat!  As soon as he returned home he had his college orientation, and in another week he will have his graduation party and then be off to cello camp.  I  have not seen him since graduation day, so I am really looking forward to hearing all about his adventures the next time we get together!  We have been looking at photos lately of when he and his sister were young, and it makes my brain spin at how quickly those years seemed to pass.  I miss the babies that they were, but I am so incredibly proud of him now.  He is a genuinely kind person, in addition to being smart and talented and handsome and interesting to talk to.  I never have enough time with him and I know that time together will be even more constrained from here on out as he goes away to school and on to a whole new life.  

My granddaughter finished her junior year of high school and is already looking ahead to next year when she will graduate.  So she is giving thought to colleges and majors, but also to senior pictures and prom dresses.  She is preparing for a violin recital next week and I am really looking forward to that.  She played at an outdoor festival this week on very short notice and handled it like a professional.  I went with her to the festival and then she came back to our house to have dinner with us and play for a bit with little George.  She is a bright light, charming and smart and skilled, and spending time with her is always a delight for me.  She and her brother are different in many ways but they complement each other perfectly and it makes my heart happy to be with the two of them when they are together.

The good parts of life go by so quickly.   I can't slow time down, and I can't bring back the past.  But I will take every opportunity this summer to see my Grands and their parents as often as possible and be grateful for as much time as we have.

Grief Notes

Life goes on, looking on the outside much the same as before.  I do the bare minimum of what has to be done, and I smile and laugh and talk to people as needed, although I do not seek them out.  I still think about Ruth a lot, although of course I always did.  But unlike before when my thoughts of her were always fraught with worry, my thoughts now are always prefaced with the knowledge that she is dead and that past mistakes can’t be rectified and that a multitude of hopes and dreams can’t be fulfilled.  During the day, aside from fatigue, a certain dullness and an inability to remember what I might enjoy doing or eating or planning, I am okay.  The worst are the occasional dreams where, just as in real life that last week, I can’t reach her, but in the dream I have the unstated knowledge of what that will mean, and I wake up in a panic.  My only daughter, my babiest child.  Over the years I have led dozens of grief groups and counseled dozens of grieving people so none of this is a surprise, and it is no worse than I expected, but it is different than I thought I knew.  It is different because it is me, and there is no going home after the session is over.  Ruthless.

I have done a little sewing, out of duty rather than pleasure.  I am cooking some, just as little and likewise without any real enjoyment.  My sister wants to take a road trip with me to Dollywood in Tennessee, of all places, which makes me wonder whether she knows me at all.  Still, I am telling myself to go because I rarely have time with my sister, and it is as good a plan as any to try to shake me loose inside as I wait for this stage of grief to pass.

Sweet 16

Happy blogaversary to me.  This little insignificant blog is 16 years old today.  I can hardly remember myself at 57, the age I would have been then, but I can remember something about how different my life was. When I started this blog I was concerned about the environment and the world that would be passed on to my grandchildren, who were small then; that has not changed.   When I re-ran the climate calculator today I was troubled to learn that, despite our electric cars, my climate footprint has slightly gone up instead of down, due largely to the size of our house and our distance from shopping areas.  But I am still concerned and still trying.  

Many things have changed since in the 16 years since my first post, although I have to read between the lines to recall some of it.  I was living in a little gray brick house, the first one I had owned solely in my own name, in St. Clair Shores, Michigan.  I owned another house of my own in between and now live in our marital home in Midland, about two hours north.  I was working full time then at a job that paid a lot more than I have now, but that I hated.   I was single and bitter and not even dating at the beginning, with a bad relationship in between, and now I am married to a man I love.  My daughter Ruth was living at home on and off when I started; now she has died.  So many of those earlier posts are in coded language, trying not to point fingers at the people who failed to support her, to the people who made life difficult for all of us.  So hesitant to state in writing some of the terrible challenges she faced or to acknowledge the pain and fear and hopelessness that formed a thread in my daily life.  So it has been 16 years, maybe like any 16 years for anyone, with pain and joy and gain and loss.   And probably also like anyone, there are a lot of things I would change, and a few things I wish I could go back to.  But there is a new little grandchild in my life now, and my beloved older Grands are on the cusp of college and adulthood, so there is much to look forward to.  Despite the sadness from the loss of my youngest child, my baby girl, I am in a better place on many levels than I was 16 years ago, and looking forward to seeing what the next 16 years will bring.

Ruth, 10-21-1979 -- 01-10-2023