SOCKS

Dearest Trick~

I must admit there are piles of boxes I have struggled to bring myself to open. Like the widow facing her husbands closet or dresser, I face the boxes. Since we were to move the day you went to heaven some feel I have been given the luxury of having everything boxed up. But luxury is a weird word in widowhood. And so I stare at the boxes and make excuses within myself to why they can wait for another day. But, TODAY was that other day.  Hard set on ripping into the tape that held our past, planning to cutting through the wrapping that sealed US from just plain old ME ~ I slowly opened the cardboard of our lives together. And some of it was filled with teaching books, office stuff, your coats and jeans. But the hardest is the box full of your SOCKS.

How silly, but I couldn’t help but think about all the adventures these socks have been on. They covered your feet and protected your walk as you set footprints for others yet to come. They have been to many states, many countries, and many years of memories. Some are old with holes you carefully mended. I know those are ones that have seen much of your journeys. There are some I can remember buying you ~ that have “waited” endless hours on your feet to come off after a long shift at the restaurant. Piles of clothe to gather around your feet, that is what shook me to the core today.  How do I toss out the steps you made? How do I box up the marks you left on this earth?

And so a pile of dark cotton sits carefully placed on the floor. I held each pair remembering another trip we took. I fingered the soles of the socks reminding me about the wonderful soul you had. And there they stay in a pile on the floor not sure what to do. Am I ready to take that STEP without you? Am I ready to WALK alone? Is my SOUL covered and protected enough to face this world solo? I am not sure my love. Some days I take a step forward, some a step back. So, maybe for now I will go through the boxes, but I will save the socks until I can softly walk into the new life that is in front of me. I love you and the cotton that covered your path in life.

Around the world and back again~

The Blue Hoodie

Dearest Trick~

Some say that items hold memories, hold spirits, and hold stories. I tend to believe that this is true. Your blue beat up, torn, ratty, stained hoodie ~ well it connects me to you.  It holds memories of being a layer as we walked in the snow on cold blistery Chicago nights. It holds memories of going to Cubs games when the wind left a chill and the innings left a smile or maybe a tear.  It was your safety “blanket” as you played video games trying to beat the next level. It was your shield as you were the master chef at our BBQ. It was the sign that spring had sprung as you ran outside in it with nothing on top.  It was your cape as you danced and swept me up in your arms to music in the kitchen. Oh, that blue hoodie~ the tattered fabric of our lives.

I remember so clearly the first time you put that hoodie on.  It was the holidays and you couldn’t get over how soft it was. We were in Florida and it was hot ~ you didn’t care, you wore it anyway. Like a child in his favorite costume I knew this blue sweatshirt was now a part of our daily lives.  I also remember the last time you wore it.  Late in the evening prior to the ambulance coming, you said you were cold. I wrapped you up in that tarred blue pile of love and zipped it up. I placed the hood over your saved head as I kissed it. I had no idea that would be the last time I put that on you.  As they took you away, as you left our home for the last time, it was a flash of blue I saw. By the time I got to see you again you no longer had your blue hoodie but a blue gown on and blue tubes helping you breath and blue plastic putting medicine into your veins. Your hoodie was nowhere to be seen. And when you slipped away~ they handed me a plastic bag with your belongings. There at the top was this piece of you, this torn and silly hoodie.

I have washed it many times and placed it in the closet. It has hung there for the past few months. But the other day, I felt a little cold coming on, I knew immediately what I needed ~ I grabbed the hoodie; I grabbed a piece of you. And instantly I felt your arms around me. I breathed in the deep smell of fabric softener but lingering below it, I smelled YOU. A million memories rushed into my mind.  A million hugs that you gave me in that hoodie. A million tears you dried by dragging your sleeve across my face. And I thought how cruel it is that never shall I feel that hug again. Never shall YOU wipe my tears. But then I realized that when I want a hug I can slip my arms in this tattered sweatshirt and feel your arms. When I need to dance I can zip up this ratty hoodie and you are there dancing with me. When I need a tear dried I can run the sleeve across my face and you will be wipping my sadness away. I love that blue hoodie; I love the man that lived in it! Miss you.

Around the world and back again~

Old stomping ground

Dearest Trick~

I have found myself in our old stomping ground. I have walked in a city WE called home. I have stared at buildings that once painted the backdrop of daily life. I danced among the city sounds. I road the train to familiar places that without you seemed odd. I ate in restaurants we frequented and ordered as if you were with me. I looked at an endless lake that always brought US hope.

But, our old stomping ground was just that ~ OURS. It is not mine, but something we shared, something we embraced together. This city, this home, this place we call Chicago now was like a new country to me. I was lost in a space I once felt most found. The sounds I heard were no longer the sounds of home, but the sound of the braking of my heart, of the aching of my soul. Food lacked to have flavor, as it lost it “spice” as I have lost a bit of my spice of life since you have left. And that lake seemed dark, seemed cold, seemed hard.

 I cried the good cry and then I looked out on what I once called home. I have realized that this city may not be OURS anymore but it holds who we were. I now need to heal and maybe one day I can return and learn to see that the lake still holds hope, but MY hope. That it is okay to get lost on the TRAIN of life when learning to create a new home. That the food might taste different but that the spices that fill our lives come in many flavors and I must be open to all of them, even the new ones that come now that I am solo. That the buildings paint a new backdrop and that they still can be beautiful. And most of all that although painful at times, walking in our old stomping ground helps me remember the joyous adventures we have taken and memories we made.

I stomp loud! I walk with my head held high through this pain. I dance on the ground that was once ours and appreciate all that we shared here, and I am open to new adventures that I might have to forge solo… but in my heart I know you will be with me.  I love you!

Around the world and back again~

No Filter

Dearest Trick~

These days I find that I have no filter! What comes in my head somehow has a wonderful way of coming right out of my mouth. I use to always put other peoples feelings and thoughts first. I know this was one of the things about me that you loved and disliked at the same time. You loved that I could care so much, but you disliked how I let others walk all over me, or drive me up a wall. Since you have been gone the filter has come off.

I say it as it is. At times this is hard for friends and family to deal with. Some would say it comes with being a widow. I have to agree. When you lose your whole life, your whole world, your love… you tend to think other things are not as important. And thus the filter we all use has been removed. In the removal of this filter has come growth. As I removed it, I learned to stand up for myself. As I removed it, I learned to share my true feelings and thoughts with others. As I removed it, I learned to create truth. As I removed it, I learned about who I really am. As I removed it, I learned how to deal with daily life. As I removed it, I learned how to travel in a new land that lacks to have you. As I removed it, I have shown others how one can be assertive and put their needs first.

In society we have so many filters that  are necessary. We have filters on our cars, air conditioning, water, driers, heaters, cameras, computers, vacuums… well the list goes on and on. Then as humans we put filters on our thoughts, dreams, wants, feelings, self-esteem, relationships, jobs, opinions… and that list goes on and on as well. So the filter has come off. I am not saying that it is easy to say how one feels. I am not saying that I do not think twice before I talk ~ as often I do. I am not saying that I blurt out mean things or want to hurt others. But, I no longer put EVERYONE before me. I no longer allow the world to pull me in 1,000 directions. I say how I feel when I feel it. I am honest ~ the most honest I have ever been. The one thing I never have and never will filter is the LOVE I have for YOU!

Around the world and back again~

Sunshine

Dearest Trick~

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when sky’s are gray. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you ~ please don’t take my sunshine away. The past few days have been dark, there seems to be no sunshine, no light, no separation of the gray that fills my life. The word MISS does not encompass the magnitude of how my heart hurts, how I long for you. My friends tell me that there will be days like this, the ones when getting out of bed and onto the couch is a big deal. The ones where having a dog is the only reason I drag myself out the door. Many don’t want to hear that. They do not want to know that in the quiet of my apartment I cry with more sound then a marching band. That my soul bleeds more then a river flows. That the emptiness in my life shakes me to the core, on my knees begging for some peace, some small reprieve from this pain. Oh, how I long for the sunshine, for you!

I guess that sitting in this darkness of life is needed. That it is part of the process. Maybe it is okay to not always be super strong. It is okay to let the pain in and float around in it for a bit. How can I not hurt, my sunshine, my love was taken away. You were ripped from my arms and sent to a new address that is NOT listed. I put this unrealistic pressure on myself to every moment, every day be your voice ~ be  strong. But, I can’t. I can’t pretend that I am put together when behind closed doors I am falling into pieces. 

I know that each day , each hour, each minute there is a new opportunity for the sun to shine. I know that you are working hard to move the clouds in my life. I still feel you, I just miss you. You are and will always be my sunlight. You are the warmth that I crave. I know I can’t have you back here with me. And sometimes even I think to myself “damn this isn’t fair, he was too young, I am too young”! But I hold on to the moments when the sun gets to dance on my face, when I hear your voice on the wind, when I feel your touch in the raindrops. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when sky’s are gray. I love you my sunshine!

Around the world and back again~

Guru

Dearest Trick~

The pain, the darkness is more than I can put into words. I have found yoga to be the one time when I am so connected to you. The one time when I can shut off the pain, push the darkness away and “just be”. It is a place for me to grow, to heal, to learn. I twist my body into new positions I never thought possible, just as I twist my life into new directions in order to function.

This week we learned about our Guru. I always pictured some bald , tanned man who was older, wise, sitting with legs crossed wrapped in robes. I always thought a Guru was this all knowing old man on a hill type of person. That he would speak in metaphors and you would need to THINK about every word he said to truly understand what lessons he was teaching. I learned that I was wrong. That I had misconceptions for what and who MY guru is!

You see my love, a GURU at the core is someone who brings you light in the darkness. A GURU is the one who teaches you about yourself and how to experience this life we are given to the fullest. You my dear, you are my GURU. You have taught me how to laugh in the rain. You have taught me how to love the underdog ~ hey you made me a Cubs fan, need I say more. You taught me to believe in myself. You taught me that anything is possible if you just dream. You taught me to enjoy the climb when getting up the mountain of life. You taught me to face my fears, okay you laughed at my fears (especially when it came to Halloween and my irrational fear of the boogie man). You taught me to try new things. You taught me that failure is not real, as even when you lack to succeed you learn something new. You taught me that good is GREAT. You taught me to play with toys no matter how old I get. You taught me that passion for something silly is better then no passion at all. You taught me that we could never be poor (no matter how little money was in the bank) because we were “givers” and rich in goodness. You taught me to smile in the rough times. You taught me that tears clean the soul. You taught me so many things.

You are my Guru. You are my bald man in the “sky” teaching me lessons even from afar. You are wise beyond the short amount of years you got to grace this earth. You were my light in life. Now the world seems so dark without you. I need my Guru ~ I need him here. I need you to enlighten me on how to survive this hell I call daily life. Then I close my eyes. I let the tears roll down my face and I take a deep breath. Then there you are, for a brief moment, there you are embracing me ~ reminding me to just simply put one foot in front of the other. I miss you my Guru. I miss hugging and walk, laughing and talking to MY wise man. Thank you for the endless lessons you taught me. I shall forever be your student.

Around the world and back again~

Naked

Dearest Trick~

I feel like I have been striped naked for the world to see. I dread that at times I was able to hide behind my clothes of life. I was able to hide behind the label of being a special ed teacher, the task of being a wife, the luxury of being a friend. I feared being undressed. I dared not to look in the mirror, as I disliked what I saw. I covered my body. I covered my feelings. I covered my fears. I covered anything and everything that made me have to be naked both physically and emotionally. 

Now I am tossed out into the universe, undressed, uncovered, open for the world to stare at. In a way that is what being a widow feels like.  All of my stretch marks of life are there to be viewed. The ones that came from eating too much and the ones that came from the hardships of carrying the load as we buried not one or two, but three of our parents. The cellulite on the back of my thighs that came from the pain of not being able to have children. The rolls on my tummy that were created by the ups and downs and ins and outs of life we all must take. I hid this. I painted a picture of being strong and happy even when I crawled  in my own skin. And now I can’t hide, I can’t pretend that tomorrow will be a better day. I can’t diet my way to a better life. I can’t cover this pain in am XL black shirt. I AM NAKED! I am here and you are not. I am hurting and no one really understands. I am vulnerable and sad. I am exposed for all to see.

I am trying to learn that being naked is ok. I am trying to be comfortable in my own skin, in this new life I have been tossed into. I am learning that pain is part of emerging into this life, this new person. And so I have to stand here for the world see ~ NAKED, stripped of all that I was. 

I guess that being naked is being your authentic self. You can’t hide behind what you want others to view you as. I am real, all of me ~ the good, the bad, the ugly, the special, the unique, all of it. In this undressed new life I have, I see in the mirror what you saw. I see the woman that you loved, all of her. And it is scary, but it is me. Here I am naked~ here I am without you. How did this all happen? How do I hold my head high? I miss you.

~ Around the world and back again