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I Did It

I made it through Halloween. Though I have to admit that when I first saw the little goblins and ghouls coming down the street in their costumes, all excited for trick or treating, I nearly cried. This was one of Frank’s favorite holidays for that very reason, the kids. He would tease them and say “What’s the magic words?”, which of course are “Trick or Treat.” But many times the kids would just stare at him because they don’t expect an adult to be goofy but then they’d get it and say the right thing. He loved talking to the parents about the costumes and he would always give out too much to each kid…but that didn’t matter because if we were running low on candy he would just take a quick trip to the store to replenish the candy bowl.

I did carve three pumpkins but didn’t roast the seeds – I forgot to keep them. I’ve never really been a fan of them but I did that in past years out of habit for others to eat. The only decorations I put up were a few window clings of ghosts and skeletons and witches. No lights, no cobwebs, but I was okay with that.

I think I’ve figured out the holidays coming up – as I’ve mentioned before I am not looking forward to them. But I think if I’m with the right people they will be ok.

For Thanksgiving my brother and I are going to find somewhere to volunteer for the afternoon. Growing up we were poor and received a lot of help from places like the Salvation Army. And while I’ve always been active with volunteerism I think at the holidays it’s even more crucial. It’s a hard economy and people need help – so we’re going to pay it forward.

Then for Christmas I’ll be spending it with my best friend who lost her younger son this past summer and her family. We need each other in ways I have difficulty expressing. She isn’t anymore excited about Christmas than I am but we’ll muddle through.

As for decorations I’m going to do something completely different. I’ll buy a small artificial tree and I’m going to decorate it in purple and silver. Or maybe teal and silver. Some kind of non-traditional colors because Frank and I always did the traditional route – red, green, gold. I need to change it up and I know Christmas is going to be the hardest holiday of all. So whatever will help me still enjoy the meaning of it all and feel good is what will happen.

It will be hard, but I  can do it. I know I can. I figure Halloween was ‘baby steps’ for starting down that path to making it through the holidays. Actually, I don’t want to just ‘get through’ the holidays – I want to enjoy them for what they are and I’ll have to learn to enjoy them in other ways now. That’s an acceptance that hard to acknowledge but I know I’ll grow from the experience. I’ve been growing all along this whole journey that’s just over two years old. I may not have liked that I’ve had to do that but it’s either that or curl up and die.  I know I have a lot to live for and there are people that I love and appreciate so very much – and you know what? Many of them are hurting too, those who knew Frank and those who knew him vicariously through me.

Perhaps together we can move forward and experience a new kind of holiday season. I’m up for it, are you?

Holidays – Uggh

I was doing pretty well this summer healing from the loss of Frank, then fall appeared along with the realization that all of the holidays are coming up. We loved the holidays, Frank and I – starting with Halloween. We would decorate the wrought iron railings on the front steps with orange lights and some green little Frankenstein lights. We’d put orange light bulbs in the outside lights and we’d always have carved pumpkins complete with candles on the front steps. I’d also decorate the windows with those plastic window clings – pumpkins, witches, ghosts and put fake cobwebs on the bushes. And now? I can’t bring myself to do it. Though I did buy three pumpkins and I suppose I’ll carve them this coming weekend but my heart just isn’t in it.

Then Thanksgiving will follow Halloween and though my cousin has invited me out to her place, and I’ll go, but it’s going to be so odd without Frank. Traditions that were once a part of my life with Frank are now gone. Poof. Just like that.

Yesterday afternoon I spent three hours in bed with the phone off the hook and my cell phone off – maybe it was a pity party – crying my eyes out thinking about the various holidays, especially Christmas and what that will be like this year. My initial, irrational thought was that I would skip all of the holidays altogether, just hide out here in my little house and be a hermit. Then when January hits I’ll come back out, ready to be me again. Or whoever the me is that I am now.

One of the problems with Christmas is that I already know I don’t really want to have a tree because I can’t use OUR ornaments. There is no more Frank and Patty, no more US. All of the decorations and ornaments are OURS. And Christmas was HUGE for us. While lying there on the bed yesterday I envisioned opening the door to the little closet downstairs that houses all of the Christmas stuff and I nearly went into panic mode. My breathing literally sped up and as I was crying at the same time I found myself almost unable to take a breath. To bring out the containers that house a collection of ornaments that we bought each other over the last 14 years – no way in hell. In fact, of all the ornaments and Christmas decorations that are down there, 90% – if not more than that – were bought during the time we knew each other.

I find no comfort or joy in going to chop down a tree – which we always did the Friday after Thanksgiving, and I feel nauseous at the mere thought of decorating one. How can I put up ornaments that say things like “Our First Christmas 1995” or the ones we bought on our vacations that held special meaning for us? Or the ones we bought each other every year? That was a tradition we started the first year and it helped us build a wonderful assortment of ornaments and fabulous memories. It started out that we’d buy each other one ornament each year but after the first year or two it was always multiples.

Before this year for 14 years of holidays it was all about ‘us’, Frank and Patty. Now I have to learn how to accept that it’s only me this year. I really don’t want to put the Christmas lights on the house or the garage or the Merry Christmas sign that lights up on the picture window or the holiday lights on the bushes. I am trying to convince myself that it would be okay to buy a little artificial tree and a few new ornaments that are just mine and mine alone. Nothing big, nothing extravagant, but something that would help me ease into the holidays easier with less emotional impact.

I want and need to have a new ‘first’ with the holidays, but additionally and perhaps more importantly I have find a way to give myself permission to do that because right now I feel like it would be wrong to do so.

Uggh.

Bite Me, GE Capital

I haven’t been able to get this off  my chest, so naturally the best thing for me to do is write a post about it.

Friday, September 24, 2010, 8:42 am

The phone rings and it’s an 800 number. I answer it because I’m trying to get solicitors to stop calling, so I answer to ask them to remove me from their calling list.

Me: Hello?

Them: In a recorded voice-“Hello, we are looking for the person who is handling the affairs for the late Frank (it states his middle initial and last name), if you are the correct person, please press one. If not, please press two.”

Me: I press one and wait. And wait. And wait. At least five minutes pass and I was just about to hang up when the recorded voice came back.

Them: “We’re sorry, we cannot connect you at this time to the representative assigned to your case. Please call us back at xxx-xxx-xxxx.”

Me: I hang up and I do NOT call them back at the number they asked me to.

Why? Well, my gut reaction was:

Are you kidding me? What kind of scam is this? You want me to call YOU? It’s almost 7 months since my husband passed away and I get this call? Frank had no will, no estate, no assets, no debt. Everything was in my name when he died with the exception of  one small debt, about $300 that through my conversations with GE Capital, I was told I didn’t have to pay it as my name was not on the account. That conversation occurred back in April.

The more I thought about it the more I wondered if there was something legitimate about the call. Could it possibly relate to that piddly $300 bucks with GE Captial? Or was it a scam? I felt the approach taken to contact me was suspicious and there had been a recent article in our local paper about collection agencies calling grieving family members to pressure them for payment of debts of the deceased. I wanted confirmation so I called a relative who is professional debt collector. She’s been doing it for years and she knows the rules and regulations inside and out. I thought she could check out the phone numbers and see if I’m right; if it has to do with the GE Capital account and if so, what do I do?

The Reality

M calls the number given to me and finds out that yes, they are a collection company and are calling on behalf of GE Capital about that minuscule debt. They “just” want to see if there is an executor they can talk to about the debt in order to settle it. M tells me that legally they cannot collect from me on a deceased account because one, I am not the executor (no one is, there is NO will) and two, it isn’t a joint account. In fact, she was surprised they were even trying since the amount is so small, they usually don’t do that because there’s nothing in it for them. She told me I had to call this collection company because they wouldn’t tell her anything else without my permission.

M also tells me that even though the collection company will likely do an estate and asset search, they are limited to what they can even search for. Frank clearly doesn’t have an income…he’s DEAD, his name does not exist on any documents anymore other than his death certificate because… he’s DEAD. I’m fairly livid at this point in time because just the thought of having to do this makes me positively ill.

I called this collection company and sure enough, they are going to do a search. I explained to the man I spoke with that there is no executor, Frank died with no assets to his name. He said if they need to, they’ll get back to me. Huh. Two days late I get a document in the mail explaining all of this (and more) and there is so much gobblydeegook in that I’m going to have M look it over. I’m not an idiot but I need to be sure I’m not going to be sued in any way, and the way things are phrased on the document, who the hell can tell?

So now?

I’m still pissed. Very pissed. Here I’m trying to move along in my life, adapting to the changes I experience on my new journey. I’m enjoying my life in a true way for the first time in two solid years and I have to get this call NOW, the one related to an issue I was told was CLOSED? Seven months after his death. Where’s the karma here? What have I done to deserve this?

As a rule I am one of the most upbeat, positive, optimistic people you will ever meet. But this situation absolutely burns me. I’m trying to keep a smile on my face every day but sometimes it’s really hard to fake my feelings when I think about how unnecessary this situation is. And until it’s finally resolved, I know that’s how I’ll continue to feel.

How on earth could GE Capital think that going after a lousy $300 debt is worth it? The collection agency gets a portion and there are an amazing number of people involved, I’m pretty sure it would be like getting fifty cents in the CEO’s pocket after all is said and done. Even M said it’s a pretty worthless debt to chase, it certainly wouldn’t ever make it to court. The powers that be at GE Capital should be ashamed of themselves.

What bothers me to the core is that each time a situation arises that involves Frank, it’s a harsh reminder of all I’ve lost.

 

Self-Help Me

I bought books.

Necessary books.

I’m feeling the need for a little self-help.

Seven Months Already

I’ve just poured myself a shot of scotch and I am raising a toast to Frank. He died seven months ago today and I only just remembered this evening. I’ve been so busy with landscape work today that it took me all day to even notice the date. And when I did my eyes instantly welled up and my heart hurt in what seemed to be a profound way. How has that much time even passed???

I make an effort every single day to move forward with my life, to be positive and enjoy the here and now. But the reminders of my life with and without Frank, like anniversaries, sometimes suck. With the reminders come a mixed bag of emotions. I’ve talked about this before but I haven’t found a satisfactory way to handle it yet, I just sort of roll with it. If anyone has a better idea – bring it on. Seriously.

What I have the most trouble with is reconciling whatever new happiness I may experience – regardless of what that happiness is related to – with the fact I don’t have Frank to share it with. Because the first person who pops to mind whenever something good happens is Frank, I want to talk to him and tell him all about it, whatever that ‘it’ is. Maybe that’s normal because we were together so long and maybe it’s okay.

I hope to share my life with someone eventually, but because Frank comes to mind first and foremost when things happen, is that fair to that future someone?

For that matter, is it really even an issue now and perhaps I should truly just keep rolling with it as I have been? I don’t really know what SHOULD be happening so maybe this IS what should be happening. I’m so confused – and I know it’s not from the scotch. Which, by the way, I’m going to have another little sip of.

Good night.

That Which Makes Me Smile

The Healing Power of Music

Since Frank passed away I’ve developed an obsessive need for listening to types of music I normally didn’t before his death. In fact, it began before he died because during the last three months of his illness we both listened to music that was unusual for us. Frank had mentioned Blind Boys of Alabama sometime in the fall of 2009, so when Christmas time came along I bought him a couple of their cd’s. They’re an amazing gospel group from Alabama, and their music became something Frank and I relied on to find peace towards the end of his illness. I even used one of the songs they sing, Amazing Grace (they sing it to the tune of House of the Rising Sun), at his funeral service.

I continued to listen to Blind Boys of Alabama for weeks, months actually, after Frank died. I couldn’t listen to anything else, nor would I. The music just made me think of him and through those songs I grieved – I prayed, cried, yelled, begged, pleaded…willing to do anything I could think of to bring him back and make everything right. But I knew that wasn’t going to bring him back. Obviously, nothing would. Although I thought if he could have come back even in the last physical state he was in before he died, I would have accepted it because it would be HIM. The real truth was that I wouldn’t want him back in that condition because it WASN’T him, the Frank I knew, and he wouldn’t have wanted to be that way again either.

Back around the May /June time-frame, I found I couldn’t listen to Blind Boys anymore.  To this day I haven’t figured out why; I have tried because I love their music, but each time I start to hear the beginning of a song I have to stop playing it. I can’t find pleasure in singing to their songs anymore. There’s nothing wrong with their music, in fact it’s absolutely beautiful but I think the linkage between Frank’s last days and the music isn’t doing for me what it might others – bring peace. Rather, it disturbs me because it reminds me all too well of what he looked like and was that last week, small and weak.

In mid-June I attended my best friend’s, young son’s funeral. Ruth had chosen a couple of Sarah McLachlan songs to be played during the service. A week later I went out and bought the Laws of Illusion cd. I must have played that 4 or 5 dozen times over the next six or eight weeks. At least that many times. While listening to her music I danced, I sang along with her, and I not only remembered Drew as a wonderful young boy, growing into a funny, awkward teenager, but it also helped me remember Frank in the best ways possible. His former strong self, the real Frank I knew and loved with every fiber of my being.

Then I heard a song on the radio, found out who the group was and bought their latest cd. That was Save Me, San Francisco by Train. Again, I played that over and over to the point where I now know every drum beat, every break and chorus line. And it feels good. So amazingly good. Almost guilty good. I can put it on and I find myself moving around the living room, just doing a silly dance which actually is nothing more than simply moving. How bizarre is that? I then went out and purchased another Train cd called My Private Nation. Again, I’ve played that one over and over and over…clearly with this new round of music, Train’s that is, I don’t feel sad! In fact, I sometimes feel rather giddy – like something is changing in my life but I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is, but that music is part of it or what music does to me is part of it. I wish I knew how to explain that better.

Then out of the blue two other groups came to mind and I had to buy their cd’s, Traffic and Blues Traveler. Frank introduced me to Traffic’s music years ago, he had a cassette tape of theirs called Low Spark of High Heeled Boys, so I bought that cd (cd’s are so much better to listen to, tho tapes do bring back some fond memories, for many different reasons). I remember loving that tape while listening to it in the garage (i.e. Frank’s man-cave) and singing it out of tune with him. Believe me, he couldn’t carry a tune in a handbag, as the saying goes, and in turn it made me sing out of tune with him. That brings huge smiles to my face because he tried so hard to sing IN tune and we’d laugh our asses off when he couldn’t.

As for the Blues Traveler group, I purchased the one called ‘travelogue: Blues Traveler classics’. I had no idea until I listened to it the first time how many songs I actually knew. What a lovely surprise that has been! Again, I have repeated playing both the Blues Traveler and Traffic cd’s over incessantly, but interestingly enough, I’m not finding any particular urge to find another group to listen to right now. I’m sticking with Train, Blues Traveler and Traffic right now and I’m not sure what to make of that, but I think that speaks to the healing power of music. Not just its words or meanings of the lyrics or the tempo. Just something I can’t put my finger on…it all seems to be making an impact for the better.

By no means do I believe I am through grieving for the ‘The Dude”  – good Lord, that could take an untold amount of time, maybe forever – but I do feel I’m on a definite path to finding peace. And if music is the conduit to the path that I need to walk, bring it on. I also feel I am not on that path alone – there is someone there to walk with me. Someone new, someone  perhaps to even guide me. I just don’t know who that is yet.

With This Ring…

I don’t know when not wearing my wedding ring felt ok. Not totally, 100% comfortable, but 99%, which = ok. Without that feeling that I was physically missing something or feeling naked without. For example, if you wear a watch regularly and then one day you don’t, you are very aware of it missing from your wrist. I don’t have that feeling now without my ring, any ring. I stopped wearing my wedding rings April 18th, after the first celebration party and switched to a remembrance ring that day, I stopped wearing that ring regularly a couple of weeks ago. I’m not sure what to think. Though I think it’s a step forward.

When I was up north with my cousin visiting her brother earlier this month, I met someone. Well, not really. We were at an outdoor concert where Elvis (yes, that guy) was performing. It’s his summer gig every Saturday night. My cousin and I were heading to the bar from the dock area to go to the bathroom and two men stopped us. We chatted and flirted a while and then we lost each other in the crowd. Those two guys and us, that is. Never got their names, only knew what city one of them lived in.

But the point of what happened for me is that I felt like I could do the dating thing again. Or at least meet someone for coffee and see what happens. Dating scares the crap out of me on one hand, but it feels reassuring to me that I actually want to, and that it sits comfortably within me when I envision doing so.

Back in the April/May time-frame I thought I was attracted to someone, but realized after a lot of soul searching two things. One, I was really looking to fill the void that Frank’s death left with anybody. Two, I was attracted to this person’s ability to make me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry, but I realized I was not attracted to him physically. I’m very glad I didn’t say anything to him about my feelings, I’m not sure how the situation would have panned out. Better to not say anything and see what happens on its own is the advice I was given. That advice was heeded and it was the right advice.

Each day I feel a little more excited about life and less occupied with heavy thoughts of missing Frank, though I do still miss him. How could I not? Whoever I end up dating and being with will need to accept that Frank was a big part of my life, and he always will be permanent in my heart. But there’s room for someone new, too. They can share the space, I have a big heart.

I’m back in school taking two courses. I’m bored senseless right now in the Excel class because my skills are much more advanced than the other students. Many of them have never even opened an Excel workbook so I do my homework for that class during it. Now, we’ve only had two sessions so far, but I’m sincerely hoping that down the road it will become more challenging for me. Fortunately, the instructor knows my level of expertise and though I contribute in class, I try to let others answer his questions. Until I can’t stand it anymore and give him the answer he’s looking for.

The other class is College English. I think this is going to be an eye-opener for me. I’ve been told I have a unique writing style and I’m looking forward to seeing what this instructor thinks. He’s a published writer and knows of what he speaks. The class is being held in a workshop format which initially I thought I was petrified about. But after our first class last week I realized this will be a good challenge for me since I don’t like speaking in front of others (hard to believe, I know), and though I’m good with constructive criticism in the work-place, I’ve never received it based on my personal writings from a professional. It will be either a strike against my ego or a grand boost.

I’m sitting at my kitchen window watching the sky turn colors of peach, purple and gray. There are storms coming and the clouds are diffusing the sunset. If the trees weren’t in the way it would be a lovely picture. Instead, I’m going to leave you with a picture of me and Elvis. Oh, he’s taken, I can’t date him. But he was fun to hug anyway.

It’s Been A Few Good Days

So I’ve been pretty happy. One of the highlights so far this week was lunch with a handful of former co-workers, it was a so much fun! I wish we could have chatted longer but most of them had to get back to work. 🙂

Today I’m heading out of town for the weekend with one of my cousins. Lisa and I are very much like sisters, in fact, her mother calls us “sister-cousin’s”, we just get along so well. We’re going to go visit Lisa’s brother Tim, he’s been going through trying times himself so the weekend will be for all of us to just enjoy, enjoy, enjoy! Oh, Tim doesn’t know I’m coming, total surprise. I haven’t seen him since he bought Frank’s truck back in May. It’s about a 2 1/2 hour trip and Lisa is a chatterbug – but I love her and what she has to say is usually worth listening to.

So far the only plans I’m aware of for the weekend is an outdoor concert tomorrow night, headlined by…..wait for it… Elvis! I guess he’s supposed to be a very good impersonator, we’ll see. I’m not actually an Elvis fan but my mother is, so I hope to get a good picture of him for her. After the concert we’re going to someone’s place on a lake and having a campfire and some adult beverages.

I’m bringing a knitting project to work on along the way and I’m hoping the weather will cooperate. Cross your fingers. But even if it doesn’t? I don’t care, I’ll be with people I love and who love me. That’s what matters most.

Me on the left, Lisa on the right.

Her head looks huge but it isn’t, goofy angle.

Even if it was big, she’d still be cool.