To Every Season, Change (A Preview to 8 Nights +1)
I think there was a song that went that went something like the above statement.
This year will be a change for both my daughter and I. Instead of addressing physical pain, nurses and medication, she and I will address a new relationship between us, heartfelt pain and intentional creation of a new medication--the sound of laughter. Something we couldn't do before because we would set off hubby's pain by doing so. (Medically true!) The change we will have to make is how to celebrate and I mean truly celebrate a holiday. This is not something we've done in several years. You know the kind--decorating the house, getting gifts in secret, the hope of special foods.
Another change will be the visual silence of my hubby/her Daddy not being there. We are both making conscious decisions not to dwell on it. However, there is some accommodating going on. Instead of making a computer program for the Menorah contest at temple, we simple made ours out of (sorry can't tell; I will post tomorrow!) and you know we made a great team!
We had planned on going to three parties this weekend (two Channukah and one Christmas) but oops! she has caught the flu. So it will only be her and I. Though I may last minute pull in one or two via phone to listen to the prayers and share in her joy opening a gift. Yes! Lucky kid. Mom saved a lot and she will receive eight gifts, one for each night, with one being from her Daddy and I. Another change; they will each be wrapped up in wrapping paper this year!
Through all of this, as the fall season leaves me and the winter season comes upon me, while I've accomplished much since his passing, there are so many things around me that cause me to remember memories of him, my friend. This past week, I cried alot. But after talking specifically more about the last four days of hubby's passing, I found I could move on. A change! And you know what? I have the power to make that change!
In the past five months I had lost touch with my therapy, my writing. I realized that was not good. I realized further that that is what helps me to get over my hurdles in life and allows me to be the "communicative nerd" that I am. So as I may have mentioned before, I have officially started writing my book. I hope that in the days and months that lay ahead that you'll feel free to ask me questions of things that you think people might like to know that I might add to the book. I want it to be educational, inspirational, and something that is great to read curled up in a chair with some hot cocoa.
With that said, I am making a change. Rather then spending the holiday in solitude only with my daughter, I thought I would share both Channukah and Christmas Eve with all of you. The etymology of Channukah is L'chaneck meaning to educate. Each night of Channukah, beginning tomorrow, Saturday night, December 8, I am going to write about something that my hubby educated me on. Then on Christmas Eve I will share a special Christmas Eve story about my husband and I.
Below is a tiny taste...
(This moment in time occurred when we were dating.) It was only a month or so after we spent that amazing 20-hour day together. Wow! Breakfast, park, lunch, bowling, more talking, all followed by unannounced dinner at his home where his mom (also having no notice!) was making hot dogs, green beans and corn on the cob. Oh! His poor mother! I just had three wisdom teeth pulled and was "Bucky Beavercheeks"!
Sorry, I obviously went off course. A month later after that moment in time, I was now stuck at home with bronchitis. This man took it upon himself that every single day at 5 p.m. he was coming over with a hot dinner plate dish that he had his mom prepare for me. Like clockwork! The food was great especially on a single girl's living by herself diet. But once I finished eating, he left so as not to get sick. For seven solid days he did this. On the eighth day, I was paroled and allowed to return to life. Yippee! I get to say Thank you! Or at least I thought I would. A mutual friend of ours picked me up to go to a dance and I would meet my hubby (then boyfriend) there. When I got there, he said hello and took me back home. He then left and went home. Yes that fast!
Wait a minute! I've been stuck in a tiny apartment for a solid week with someone bringing me hot plates and now my parole had ended?! Hmph! Well that wasn't going to sit well with me! So I drove over to hubby (then boyfriend's) house. It turned out that he had three cars break on him during the week he took care of me. He had never said a word. Well we sat there in the dark talked for several hours and then once he realized I wasn't judging him or even angry (how could I be?!) he returned back to his normal romantic self.
What did he teach me? I guess I would have to say he educated me on how to be a caregiver long before both he and I would ever learn what the word was. He also taught me how to forgive easily on so many levels and appreciate what life really is about, not the small stuff but the stuff that is never verbalized--love.
This is a new season for me. I am going to learn how to embrace it.
The Roaring Mouse
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