Four Weeks

Happy end of February,

As of today, it will be four weeks.   Four weeks of feeling everything and yet nothing.  Four weeks of waking up and forgetting and then remembering.  Four weeks of missing Liberty and yearning to love on her one more time.  Four weeks of trying to understand what I'm supposed to do with all my free time. What am I supposed to be doing?  Loving and caring for Libby kept me very busy.  Now, I have a hole in my time. 

I have this recurring deep ache in my torso.  It feels as if there is a literal hole that burns and hurts.  Then I can't breathe. My throat clenches closed. I can't think past the unadulterated missing of her. Finally, the tears come. Eventually, I can swallow again. I'm calling them Liberty attacks. Like all things Liberty, I cannot predict when they will hit.

And it's okay.  It's good to feel the hard emotions too.  I spend a lot of time being numb which is beginning to fade- gracefully. My brain isn't holding some thoughts as long as it used to, grief fog is real for me.  I am blessed by the people I work and worship with as they continue to reach out to me and offer hugs and understanding.   It helps.  Not sure how to carry this grief, so I'll embrace all the support I can.  

I do not want to become stuck in the sad cycle.  I don't want to see my laugh lines become grief lines. Been holding my breath for many years, pleading to keep Libby here and healthy.  Think I need to find ways to love the life I shared with Libby and to continue to love life now. 

In the past, I have said "I am broken" after whatever painful event occurred, but I don't really think we become broken.  I think that we bend and bend and bend like a tree. And sometimes we may feel broken.

 

 

We, meaning me, tend to let the daily pains and/or struggles build up until we have to either bend or break.  As yoga and life have taught me, I get stronger when I bend.  Like the trees in the Texas Panhandle, we bend to the winds. When I think of the many ways I am blessed to be able to do so I have a small idea of the grace we are offered.    

Thanks to a student who told me about this cool kind of fixing pottery: Kintsugi.  There is a cool story attached to this method of filing in and then admiring the preciously scared broken pottery have.  The Japanese have found a way to fill in the broken parts of the pottery with gold, which is much like the grace offered to us.  You see, we may bend and sometimes break,  but with whatever faith we embrace, our scars can become beautiful opportunities to grow. https://www.lifegate.com/kintsugi is a cool site to check out.  This time of missing Libby makes me feel like I've been stripped of the powerful love we shared.  I need the reminder that she is with us- with me.  Taking Sparkles and Kitty out helps a lot.  These scars of missing her will be ones I wear with honor.  They will become what I showcase.   

While healing, I think it's a good idea to let life love us.

A song to help soothe https://youtu.be/nKBkdp_gCCs

Two weeks

Not sure that there any words to share how grateful I am to everyone who has prayed, meditated, saged, texted, called, emailed, came by, and attended the Celebration of Life memorial.  We are truly being held in the most amazing and needed embrace through many years, but especially in the last month.  

If you didn’t get it, here is the link that has the slideshow that Rachael put together, the playlist, and the obituary. 

https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1psESxIHLfry3UPEagpR07Lz2SzTc_idT93UdUT2EdDA/edit

Truly.  Thank you. The last month was hard in an Sisyphean way.  

I wanted to share the last 26  hours with our girl.  This is not meant to be sad; it is shared with an open compassionate heart. 

Saturday, January 29 was a long, sad, and beautiful day.   We had so many people come to the house to sit with us and love on Libby.  She was able to FaceTime with my brother and one of her best friends in Happy. My beautiful cousin and her awesome husband came from Tulsa.  We spent the day eating, laughing, and some crying.  

This was day 11 of no eating and barely any drinking.  She was not really responding at all.  Her heart was still pumping, but she was leaving us. 

We all told her it was okay to go. 

Our night was restless.  Instead of every two hours, I woke up about every hour.  I’d wake up nervously, hand in her belly counting her breaths.  Counting and knowing how close to the end she was.  Rachael gave meds at 2:00 am.  At 4:00 she was struggling more to breathe.  This time her body was completely lax. 

At 6:00 am I have her meds and snuggled in for a little bit, then got up to start the day.  I’d been working out on the kitchen, quieter in there, and going in the check on her every ten to fifteen minutes.  I went in to check on her at about 6:45.  She was noticeably gasping in little breaths. I knew it was time and I couldn’t move.  I wanted to give her my breaths.   Inside I was screaming, “stay with me” and “don’t go” even though I knew it was time.  I muttered something about the promises we had made that she would let me know that she THERE and okay and  the promises our God has made to us.  

7:00 I went to get Rachael and gratefully she made it into the room for the last few breaths. 

We moved her into the living room onto her hospice bed.  It’s hard to explain how the emotions pours out and yet there was nothing.  Couldn’t breathe.  Couldn’t stop loving on her. Kept messing with the blankets and  other such bullshit. 

Notified our hospice team and waited.  

Her official passing is 9:00am. It took our wonderful nurse a while to get to Happy and get the paperwork started.  Our Spiritual Care Deacon/guru Mildred guided us wonderfully.    Cannot say enough about our hospice team!!

Most importantly for me was the cleansing and anointing that needed to be done. There is a beauty in the familial cleansing of our loved ones.  In the way many women have come together to prepare their recently departed loves. 

 With our sweet team and Grandma Linda, we sang her songs.  We cleansed her body.  We prayed to rejoice in her accomplishments.  We prayed to mourn the children, and love, and life she wouldn’t have in the mortal life.  We rejoiced for the love and accomplishments she will have in this next existence.  I let her go with my broken heart and full of faith in the promises given by the God of my understanding.  We sang on.  

We anointed her with oil that I have that smells like the mountains she will be flying over and beyond.  

We dressed her in her bright red shirt that had the Statue of Liberty on it and said “be a lady” because hell yes. 

It’s probably crazy, but I couldn’t stand anyone else lifting her.  I did it.  I tucked her into her blankets/sheets as I couldn’t fathom a man touching her.   My mommy powers were in full form. 

I helped place her in the van. 

I would have chased that van all the way to Canyon and demanded that she be given back to me, but it couldn’t happen.  She had already left.  

After the van pulled away, there was a group of birds flying over and I said, “Hi Libby.” And went inside.   

Rachael moved the hospice bed out of the living room and we took a few long deep breaths.  

https://music.apple.com/us/album/broken-horses/1577159552?i=1577159680   “Only broken horses know to run”   I can see her galloping away…..

The handwritten “I love you guys” is one of the last good samples of Libby’s writing.  And it’s true; she loves you all. 

Be blessed and know we all have the most special angel pushing us forward. “On and On”….