Nine Months of First

 Nine Months of Firsts

I pray that the words of my heart ring true and offer healing, forgiveness, and hope. 

First February and Mariah’s birthday without Libby.  First Spring without Libby.  First Easter. First Mother’s Day without Libby. The first end of a school year.  First Summer without a family vacation altogether.  First New school year. First every day.  Every day is truly a day without Liberty, and some days that is very hard to reconcile when I am growing and healing on my own time. I am so very blessed to have an honest relationship with Mariah who has her own journey to traverse with her sister in her heart.   She strengthens me; she is a force to be reckoned with every day.

So much has changed in my world, and I know that I have been the catalyst of many of the changes.  It has been growing- a lot of growing.  It has also been a lot of aching hardships as I learn how to ride the waves of grief.  Liberty passed away on January 30th  with a beautiful hospice team, her favorite music, and her beloved family around.  So many of her loved ones were able to be there to say their farewells and offer support.  It was hard, and it was lovely.  I could not have asked for it to be more peaceful as she passed.  

Slowly my body is resetting, and I am no longer waking up multiple times a night to give Libby her meds or check on her. Now instead of getting up or reaching for her, I say her name and tell her I love her. I was blessed to have been part of her care team.   This time last year I knew Libby would not be with us too much longer.  Memories of last year are either convoluted or terribly clear.  There are many things I do not remember or don’t want to. For months, I would wake up mid-anxiety attack and/or crying. I knew my world was crashing and all I could do was what I could do: love the kid and support the others who love her.   

It was the letting go with grace and faith that was hard.  This hardness hits on and off like waves but hit full tilt in the last couple of weeks as my birthday approached.   It took a while for me to realize that the heaviness I felt was the fact that I am still here and Liberty’s is not.  Parents are not supposed to bury our children period. Losing a child in any way should not be part of the roller coaster we call life.  And even though it was a peaceful and perfect homegoing, it was still going away from our girl.  The child we all fought for and pushed to keep her happy and comfortable for so long is gone.  Still, I remain grateful to have been a part of her journey.  Grateful.

I am putting that heaviness off, as I cannot undo or change the long, hard, and blessed road we all traveled beside Liberty.  Now, we all need to forge new paths without her physically here.  Since April, I have made some big changes in my life.  These changes were for me to create a way to grow and heal.  After over 13 years of being a caretaker, I needed to be able to find who I was and try on the new growth my spirit was craving.   

I moved out of Happy and got a place for me to live in Amarillo. I have never lived alone.  Never had a bathroom or a closet to myself. It has been a blessing and a new kind of being.  I am learning to simply be in my space.  I enjoy being close to the church, school, and even stores, but  I miss the open spaces in Happy, the beautiful friends, and the community.  I miss my dogs and other animals, so grateful to have Monkey with me in Amarillo.   

My move caused many people I love pain, and for that I am sorry.  I needed to breathe and heal my own pains. I needed to go. I separated from Rachael.  In therapy, I have learned that two disparate things can be true, such as I didn’t want to hurt anyone,  and yet I needed to go for myself.  Completing the steps to end our relationship was hard.  We had many, many years growing together.  Now I pray that we can each grow strong as the individuals we are capable of being.  

   

I changed my job as well.  I went from teaching Advanced Placement English Literature and Dual Credit to returning to my first love in teaching: Special Education.   I am a co-teacher for several wonderfully talented teachers.  My learning curve has been huge; I love the challenge.  The world of Special Education has changed greatly in the last 15 years, so I have great things to learn. I am trying. My short-term memory is not great partially due to grief.  I am excited to keep trying and learning in this new position.    

https://music.apple.com/us/album/graves-into-gardens-studio/1524503069?i=1524503568

 

I pray that all that have loved and cared for Libby can grow and continue to share the love.  As this is my first birthday without her, may we all keep moving forward in love and hope. Every day is a day without Liberty, and yet she is always with us.  I have carried this grief in a pregnant heart as we step past the nine months of changes.   I am sorry I have not been sharing for so long.   Been doing the work and processing it on my own time.   Thank you all for your support. 

Waves

In February, I had a talk with my principal and blessedly, he listened. I am continually blessed by my campus and cohorts.  I had been trying to find a way to get a transfer or a change in assignment.  I knew that this discussion could have gone several ways. I didn’t want to leave my school, but I needed the change.  Another change in a barrage of healing and grieving,  Another change to mirror the way I have changed.   

 I needed out of the coveted position of teaching AP Literature.  I have loved and enjoyed the students and the AP style teaching strategies, yet I wanted to return to my first love of teaching students with different abilities.  For months I haven’t known what or where I would be teaching next year.  I have been specifically praying that I would be placed where I am needed and where I needed to be.   

I am a planning, list making, checking off the boxes, get it done on time, but what if, kind of chaos manager.  Facing the unknowns in my career was disconcerting and a little exciting.  

I realize that I have lost my self-confidence and quit listening to my own intuition.  I have not been listening to what I needed for a long while, mostly because I was honed into what Liberty and the family needed.  The little voice that kept telling me that I needed a change in my professional world also told me that more changes were coming. My intuitive inner voice has been awakened! 

(More about changes later.)

 One of the things I have been doing to exercise that intuitive siren within me is part of my swim training.  I have been closing my eyes while swimming laps. Goggles on, belly button, and forehead in line with the long blue stripe on the bottom    At first, it was unsettling.  With repeated attempts, I have become comfortable trusting my body’s rhythm with the forward crawl. When in doubt, I can simply open my eyes to ensure that I am within the safety zones of the lanes and I am not running into the lane ropes or other swimmers. When in doubt, I check in with my body if I am within the safety zone of the lanes.  

This is similar to being on the track where I can run or bike and have to be hyper-aware of anything except what my body is doing.  I can completely zone and pray and contemplate whatever my brain offers up.

https://youtu.be/zIC_9CI-FVw  My current favorite artist.

Just like so much in life, if I can continually trust my faith and my intuition whatever is going on will be ok. By limiting my visual stimulation, I can zone completely out and “hear” what my heart and brain need me to listen to.  I have had many “Libby squeezes” where I feel that she visits. A cacophony of emotions roll over me and then I have a knock-down drag-out over catching my breath.  These waves of grief just have to run their race, just as I do.  As the Libby squeeze subsides, there is a peace that brings hope and returns love to me. 

 Having your heart squeeze with grief and love while in the water is a different experience.  If you haven’t cried and laughed while swimming with your eyes closed, I recommend to not recommend it.  Just try to make sure to not swallow copious amounts of water. 

Still taking Kitty with me. 

You are loved.

Liberty whispers

When I knew that Liberty’s time was bgetting shorter, I tried to make a list of what would help everyone (me) deal with letting her go. These little gifts are what I cling to. Here is part of what I came up with:

1. Sing her favorite songs with abandon

2. Love on one of her favorite “babies”

3. Wear outfits that she liked

4. Notice butterflies

5. Find birds (hawks and others)

6. Watch a show or a movie she enjoyed

7. Hike for her

8. Play in  water

9. Howl at the moon

  10.Dance ridiculously

Whatever it is, I NEED to feel her presence.  This part is important as the ache I have with her not being physically here is overwhelming.  

The missing of Liberty is an expected guest at this point. Never know when it will arrive.  I miss her. I miss taking care of her.  I miss carrying her. I miss feeding her. I miss bathing her.  I miss her smile. I miss her eyes shining at me. The only time I’ve felt really pretty is when Libby told me I was pretty. I miss sleeping next to her and counting her breaths over and over again.  It is in the missing of her that I can be lost.  I held grief and fear at bay while taking care of her and loving on her.  Now, I have so much less to do.  Sometimes it is like a tidal wave of missing rolls through me.  My throat constricts and my heart races.   My eyes leak.

These Liberty attacks are still there, but now I try to breathe through them.   I acknowledge the missing has come for a visit.  I have to let this guest in, so that I can continue.  And I’m trying.    

What's Your Grief? has some great articles especially the information about secondary losses. 

Scars In Heaven - Casting Crowns (Lyrics)

You are loved.

Burnout

Beautiful painting created and gifted to me by an equally beautiful sophomore: Irakozi Chantal.  

She is amazing.  This is "Exhale".  Thanks to Micah Muehlhausen for making this painting possible.

For all who are taking care of their loved ones:

In my memory, my mother was sick: having more off days than good ones.  She fought depression, diabetes, addiction, arthritis, and Lupus. Some days she could pull it together and others she couldn’t. Grandmother and I tried to take care of her when she was home.  She was diagnosed later in my teen years, so that helped me figure out what she needed.  Her stubbornness taught me how to be the caregiver that called to schedule appointments, to get meds refilled, to try to keep meds organized, and so on.  

As my Grandmother began aging, I learned more caregiving skills.  By this time I had both of my girls, so I would bring the girls over and take care of what she and often my mother needed to be done.  As Libby got older and her diseases raised their hideous heads, I would load her up and head to Grandma’s. There were several years that I would take my lunchtime to go and help Grandma bathe.   Then I’d get home and bathe Liberty.  Once we got a rhythm and a schedule, it was a beautiful time in my own sandwich generation. It was stressful, but it was also a gift to help my Grandmother in such a personal way.  One great side effect was seeing exactly how much Liberty and Grandmother were alike.  :)

Now, I realize, that I have been caretaking for a long time just as many of us have been doing.  I know I am not alone here. We, the caregivers, keep adding on and adding on our responsibilities until we can’t anymore: emptying our batteries day after day because we are needed.  Week after week. Year after year. (I have not been alone. This is my perspective.)

The time we had with Liberty was a gift, and it was hard.  It’s not that there wasn’t help with Libby.  There were many who helped along the way. I did so much of her caregiving because I chose to.  Once we started Hospice Care, I know I went on high alert with Libby.  Hyper-vigilant in many ways because I didn’t want anyone else doing it for her.  Because I only had one chance to love her through the end of her life in the best way possible. 

There were times when I would just cry out of frustration with Libby knowing that she wasn’t being difficult by choice.  Knowing that she wasn’t being difficult because she was angry with me.  It was her body.  It was her disease. 

There were times I would yell- I am not a yeller at all.   There were times when guilt moved into my body because I was too busy doing things instead of paying more attention to Libby. There were times when my anxiety flooded through me because I was doing something that didn’t have anything to do with Liberty: running or training. Sometimes jealousy and resentment overtook me as I was not able to do the same activities other people got to do.  I went to my first coffee house last week to hang out with friends.  

Caregiver burnout is a real thing.  I am tired.  And empty.  My short-term memory isn’t working.  My body reacts oddly to emotions.  My sleep is weird, but that is beginning to get a little better, thankfully. I’ve been holding myself and my life together for so long; I am tired. I’m ok, and I’m drowning.   Sometimes I am prickly and don’t realize what my face is saying. There is often a weight in my chest that keeps me from breathing.  May have misplaced a large majority of my self-confidence. I find myself being more honest or not speaking at all. I am tired. I’m ok, and I’m drowning. I’d like to eventually find myself just being me.  My batteries are empty, and I am trying to find ways to replenish them.

For years, my time at school teaching has been my safe haven.  I have poured so much of myself into that part of my life.  That was for me. Just for me.  I selfishly poured and poured and kept my teacher self separate.  I realized I could continue to be who I’m meant to be and still be her mom. I could have little bits of joy and not be guilty. I also have open roads where I find solace, whether I am running or biking.  Now I am extra blessed to have a church community who have also created a safe haven for me as well.  Whether I am at school, church, or an empty road, I can be prickly and still be loved. I pray anyone who is caregiving finds those safe-havens. 

Little video of sharing the love with a group of senior citizens two of my classes have adopted. 

Here are a few links about caregiving:

Caregiver Burnout

The burnout tips are solid.  

Resources for Caretakers

Great resources

I am so grateful for all of my community who have surrounded me and supported me through so much. Caretaking is one of the hardest and most beautifully blessed messy things I've done.

Play this one loud so maybe I can hear it...  Many have been through so much in the past few years, let's learn to let life love us.  

Blessings! 

ileana Twig 

**Addendum: many of us are still caretaking after our loved ones have passed on.  That's also a legitimate form of caretaking.  We can't take care of or loves in human form, so we continue.  You are also caretakers who need to consider the fatigue and burnout that can occur.  Please find ways to recharge your batteries, my beloved friends. 

Want to Want to

I apologize now for how egocentric this post is.  Wanted to share how fear, stress, and grief can affect us.

It is nine weeks since Liberty left her physical presence.  It feels like twelve years ago and also yesterday.             

Waking up reaching for her. Waking up panicking because I forgot to give her meds.  Rushing to the car after the last bell at school, only to remember that she doesn't need me anymore.  Still going to the fridge to warm up her meal to realize it is no longer needed.  My body still waking up on her pill schedules.

(We heal ourselves with much help.)

It is strange and beautiful how my brain is dealing with grief.  My grief is like a pressure cooker filled with jelly jars.  I think it's in control and it sneaks out oozing sticky sweetness on the stove.  Other times it explodes without warning and my throat constricts and I cannot breathe.   Not a fan of losing control of my emotions in that way.   Grief is a sneaky, sticky bitch most of the time, but I am grateful to know and recognize her when she joins me. Looking at me I am healthy.   I work out.  I eat mostly healthy foods.  Looking deeper I have used exercise and controlled eating to hide the neglect in the rest of my body.  I have believed that whatever everyone else needed was more important.  (Don't think I am alone in this thinking.) 

Between December and January, two of my teeth broke off almost to the gums.  My teeth have always been an issue as they are weak and painful.  I carry a great shame about them as nothing that I and various dentists have tried has been very successful.   I was focused on caretaking and teaching.  I ignored the pain and ended up with an infection.  I told no one.  I have been to a new dentist twice in the last two weeks and have several more appointments to get the damage and my recent neglect handled.  I am grateful for a beautiful friend who mentioned this wonderful dentist to me. 

I want to want to be better to myself.

After three years, I went to get my eyes checked.  Have been so afraid of how bad my eyes have been getting that I have ignored them since we went into lockdown in 2020. Also discovered that I have real issues driving in the dark.  I now have new glasses and I am grateful although it is hard getting used to wearing them.   I want to want to be better to myself.

This section may not be in poor taste; my apologies. 

In May of 2021 when Libby started Sundowning,  my monthly cycles went crazy.   For several months I had five to ten days BETWEEN cycles. Did pass my yearly check-up under the hood up in August. I have been proudly a machine following a schedule for a decade or more.  These last 11 months have been unpredictable and draining.  I have some fear and much shame about any intensive medical exams or procedures.  Thanks to another beautiful friend for the recommendation I have an appointment with an OBGYN this week.  I want to want to be better to myself.

I have struggled with ulcers since I was 12.  Interestingly, since May, my emotions have lived in my belly and burned along with my heartburn. I tend to hold my voice and swallow many emotions. I know I need to get my guts checked. That is coming in the next few months.  I want to want to be better to myself.

"Who you are to me"

My mental health mirrors the neglect in my physical body.  All that time with Libby and I never considered how I would survive letting Liberty go.  I have been carrying around resentment,  shame from childhood and early adulthood, guilt, and my current loud and obnoxious passenger: grief.  Know I need to not be in a caregiving role for a while.   I feel like I am drowning personally and thriving in the classroom. I could not ask for more understanding teachers and students around me.  In that, I am truly blessed.   When someone asks me how I am doing, I say with joy, "I get to be at school today." I mean it.  School is and has been my happy place. I continue to be blessed to get to teach.   Once again, I have been blessed by a dear friend who gave me the name of a counselor and I have an appointment coming up this month.  I am grateful and scared.  I just want to want to be better FOR myself and everyone else.  

"You Say"

I am trying.  Willing to try to be better.  I have to believe in the promise I have in my faith.   I made promises to Libby that I want to keep.  

Sorry this is so much about me.  Just working through my shit one appointment at a time.  

You are loved and you are worthy of taking care of yourself.

twig

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”….