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Comes In Waves

I can’t stand my own company in the quiet house so Zeke gets a late dusk walk.  I figure I’ll at least change the air in my lungs for a bit, if not the company.

As I walk away from my house, the sounds get quieter (blasted highway can be particularly loud when the air is as dense as it is tonight) and all I hear are my footsteps, Zeke’s panting (as if it’s 35ºC and not the 19ºC it really is ~ which proves just how humid it is!) and the occasional birdsong (the rain song, Mick used to call it).  I’m not sure I would call it the rain song as it comes in spurts, as if even the birds can’t decide if the predicted thunderstorms are coming or not!  If they do, it will be once I’m snug as a bug in my bed!

I breathe in the mixtures of scents:  the wonderful lilacs, the freshly mown grass and, what’s that?  Oh THAT! That stinky tree with the white flowers (I know not what it is but I used to have one ~ ugh!) that smells like a cross between skunk and bad fish and just plain yuck!  OK, OK, I Googled it:  It’s the Pyrus Calleryana or the Callery Pear tree.  You don’t need to see ’em to smell ’em!  Don’t be fooled by the pretty white flowers – they’re not but a ruse for you to buy them!

 

Anyway, stinky trees aside, when it is quiet like this, my brain goes into full hamster-wheel mode (think the Mel Gibson when he first gets zapped and can hear all the women’s thoughts in the movie “What Women Want”)!

There is no order to my thoughts.  They go from one subject to another and have no rhyme nor reason.

I think of my morning and how, after showing the trailer to yet another potential buyer, I empty a few more items from it and get all emotional once again.  Camping is over so it needs to go. (The proceeds of the sale are going into the “take the boys to an all-inclusive-trip-fund, however.)  There are many memories tied to that white box and I just ache from the loss.  As I’m sitting in my blessedly quiet back-yard (the neighbours are out!), feeling sad, I get a “ping!” from Messenger and there is my sister saying aloha from Hawaii!  Their flight was fabulous, though long, and they were getting ready to leave for their cruise.  So far, so good; the two couples are getting along famously (both are celebrating 25 years of marriage).  This brings me joy.  Because I’m feeling this way, I grab my camera and take pictures of my bleeding hearts, smoke bush and rhubarb.  This brings me more joy.  I don’t usually stay in the sadness for too long…

Then my thoughts go to the house and the immense job I have ahead of me to sort out what to keep, what to sell, what to throw away and when to actually do all this.  I know, I know, start with something, anything and just take it one thing at a time.  I get all emotional, looking at all THIS and think of our plans that are now nought and sadness comes again, followed by anger (how dare he leave me to deal with all this by myself!), followed by overwhelm.  Then I think of the Mary Kay business I signed on for and wonder what the hell was I thinking with all this other stuff going on?  Do I really need the added work? But I get a phone call from a client who found me on my MK website that I had created just two days earlier and make a sale! Maybe not so crazy after all.

As I walk (wishing each step would miraculously take a layer of insulation off my thighs), I think of my future and dating and OhMyGodAmIReadyToShowThisBodyToAnyone? I don’t go into panic mode but there may be a small (OK, bigger than small) level of insecurity. WTF!  I keep reading how “women of my age” are totally at ease with who they are and accept all the “bumps and bruises” that life has given them to reach this point in life and are comfortable in their skin.  This, of course, leads them to a fulfilling sex life where they need not worry about their boobs being too saggy or their cellulite, or the extra love handles because it just means there’s more to love.  When you have been with the same guy for almost twenty years and he’s seen the changes you’ve gone through from your first meeting to your last good-bye, which includes giving him three beautiful children, and whatever else you’ve shared, you know where you stand. You’ve aged matured together.  You’ve earned your said “bumps and bruises” together. Now, the thought of future lovers (see my positive spin on this?), who themselves have certainly had changes happen to their bodies (understand I am not crazy enough to think of hooking up with too-young boys who still smell of pee-pee) are probably quite conscious of the fact that a 50-year-old body is not that of a 20-year-old one!  Obviously I’m talking of the regular folk who are trying to age gracefully; not the scalpel-loving-living-in-denial folk (not that there is anything wrong with that ~ we’re not here to judge!)  They are probably not expecting perfection either…

So I keep walking, thinking, occasionally arguing with myself (pretending to talk to Zeke) and tellng myself to not sweat it, to just be my fabulous me and all will work out in the end.  I am not a “wallower” and will not stop living or looking for rainbows.  I will move forward doing what needs to be done, all the while enjoying the journey, even if a few tears are shed here and there, because I know the sun always comes out after the rain.

(I couldn’t decide which one I liked more, so I’ve included both!)

51 thoughts on “Comes In Waves

  1. I thoroughly enjoyed the walk around the garden with you, something I always try to do when when my head (and heart) has had enough for a while. Nature has a way of being all things to most people, even though sometimes it can make you sadder still.
    Keep your chin up!

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    • Thank you, Anita. It does indeed. I shall feel this way for a good long while but that’s OK; it’s all part of the grieving process.

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  2. You are human. You are normal. You are grieving. You are recovering. You are turning a corner on YOUR path – one you didn’t choose
    but one that was put in front of you. I have no doubt your path will be filled with the best living and loving you can give yourself (screw those ‘comfortable in our skin’ messages; they’re no more helpful than the ‘you can have it all’ ones were).

    Now I’m clicking on the stinky tree link ‘cuz they grow here and I never knew their name!

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    • You made me laugh out loud, Sammy! Thank you!
      As for the stinky trees, I was going to leave them with that title and just had to look ’em up. There were some very funny descriptions of the smell… one called is “semen scented”!

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  3. Beautiful. Heartfelt. Beautiful, Dale. Thank you for sharing.

    What I like is your way of knowing things will change. You don’t deny or repress your sadness but allow it to come as it may and then letting it go away as you tend to other things, knowing that it may return and then you’ll sit with it once again. Or, in your case, I feel you will walk with it.

    Have you read much on mindfulness? You approach life in a very mindful way.

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    • Thanks, Tammy. I am always so happy to see a response from you!
      It’s funny, I sometimes hesitate about writing about this stuff because I don’t want to appear needy or whiney.
      Yes, life is like that. Getting totally caught up in the sadness can lead to such other scary things, things I want no part of. I guess it’s always been in my nature (or one day I will blow up, who knows? 😉 )
      I am very much into mindfulness; and try to live it ~ even have the book “Wherever You Go, There You are” by Jon Kabat-Zinn on my list to buy! (Haven’t done so yet, as I’m trying NOT to buy new books! This would be one that I suspect I’d want to highlite (before you suggest I go to the library; which would serve me no purpose as our English selections in this town are next to nil…)
      Hope you and Mr. Hoombah are fabulous! xo

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      • Nope! No needy or whiney – just your emotions and feelings. Not long ago, I finished Full Catastrophe Living (Kabat Zinn) and put myself through the 8 week MBSR course as I read it. It helped me so much, and CJ got his own copy and did the yoga, meditation, etc. too. Not sure if I shared this with you already, but we’re signed up for a live MBSR course in July. I think it will be worth the money.

        The whole process (which has been since last Sept or so) has been extremely helpful but in a subtle yet profound way. It’s like, “Oh, hello, fear. There you are again. How are you today?” It was either his book or Sam Harris’s Waking Up that said you can view your thoughts like a doorman to a fancy hotel. You greet the guests but you don’t follow them into the bathroom! He would pick up on that one, right? 😉

        Hugs!

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        • Phew! Not that there was any evidence so far but you just don’t want to find out that “ugh, here she goes again!”
          No, you did not share with me this wonderful thing! So wonderful that both CJ and you are willing to move forward together. I admire that about you two so much!
          I love that! “Hello, Fear…” Right! 😀
          Hugs right back!

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  4. I admire your honesty, Dale. As you write, it “will all work out in the end”, although it may be difficult to envision right now. Keep enjoying and sharing the little things; there is lots to be “captured” by your camera. XOX.

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  5. I don’t know that I would have had the strength to write something so raw, honest and beautiful, Dale. And yet with all the words you’ve written here, the one thing that seems the most poignant is the photo of the bleeding heart. That, more than anything, captures your words. Wonderful writing.

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    • I don’t know… Writing is a helluva lot cheaper than a therapist! All jokes aside, I do thank you for your kind words, George. Every now and again, I am just hit by the need to share this stuff. So far there are no objections, so I guess I can keep on doing it when the urge comes! It’s funny, I didn’t think about the implication of the bleeding hearts at the time.

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  6. What an honest piece of writing Dale. I know what you mean about hamster wheel mode – sometimes my head’s like that and I have to go for a long walk so I can shake everything into order.
    These things have a way of working out in the end – it just takes a lot of walking sometimes. Preferably past lilacs and mown grass!

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    • Thank you, Anne. I hate when the hamster happens at 2:00 am ~ not always the best time for a walk!
      They do and they will and, if I’m lucky, all that walking will shave off a few pounds! 😉

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  7. Perfect writing from the heart and for the mood because I could feel your meandering thoughts and the reasons behind them. You reminded me of a good friend who lost his spouse 3+ years ago. He’s been talking about selling the house & getting rid of things. I remind him that I’ll help, but he’s the one who has to touch everything.

    I imagine the your day started innocently enough, but I also imagine moods can quickly change as a wave suddenly crashing upon you. Meanwhile, today is a new day … keep smiling!

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    • Thank you, Frank. I understand your friend completely! Not that I won’t accept the help when I’m ready! I just guess I have been ready for little (well, not so little, when you think about it) separations like the truck and trailer.
      It did indeed! And they can for sure! A sound, a scent ~ just comes out of nowhere! Today is a brand-new day and I can’t help but smile! 😀

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        • Well, there is no fixed timeline, I say. Some don’t want to let go; others want to remove all traces; some are not interested in ever meeting someone new again; others are ready to date rather quickly.
          I am of the realist/pragmatist type, I guess. It is what it is. Cutting myself off from society will not bring him back. Meeting someone new will not disrespect the love I had for him. I am sure I will get criticized no matter what I choose to do (there are those who thrive on that crappola) and I care not. I am here; I enjoy life and, no matter how much I miss him (he was a HUGE presence in my life) I will put myself out there, so to speak!
          Your friend has his journey to make and that’s OK. I hope he finds happiness in whatever he chooses to do.

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  8. I love that you are writing what is real in your life. It is a huge gift to yourself and your readers. It sounds like your honesty helps your healing. Living with memories of Mick that assail you in sudden flashes is brave. You aren’t stuffing anything down. About the body image thing – I think it never goes away. I have a body no longer young but that still has surprising urges. Who ever knows what’s ahead. ❤

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    • Thanks Vivi. It really does help.
      Ah crap. Really? Dang. I was so hoping for the “take me as I am” attitude to come forth! And I would like to think those urges never completely go away…(she says whilst wiggling her eyebrows…) xoxo

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  9. Dale, you touched a million chords there as I read. Thank you.

    As for stinky trees; we have some down our road but they are not a Pyrus species and I haven’t been able to identify them. What I do know is the smell is rather fishy and , back when we had lots of them, I would find a carpet of honey bees at the foot of the trunk. Either dead or drunk or dead drunk.

    My white “beedilng heart has succumberd to something bu I have picke dpounds of rhubarb from the allotment and I saw some Solomon’s Seal in flower. Summer well on the way,

    And the future…. great thoughts you have.

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    • Thank YOU, David.
      Oh! I hope they were just drunk and not dead! That would be an added reason to hate those stinky trees even more!
      That’s a bummer for your bleeding heart. I’ll be picking some rhubarb tomorrow to concoct some goodies – today is flying by way too fast! I have to look up Solomon’s Seal – don’t know what it is!
      As for the future; I thank you. I am an optimist at heart.

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