Here we are, Christmas Eve eve. I can't believe it's Christmas again, didn't we just do this a couple of months ago?
Maybe I feel that way because my December is feeling a lot like last December. I spent another Saturday at my mother's old room, finishing up getting the last couple of things that I could carry. I just sent the email releasing the room.
I also visited with her and she's once again obsessed with my love life...or lack thereof. She kept asking if I'd met any "nice young men." She's good for my ego because she just refuses to believe there isn't anybody out there interested in loving me. Too bad she's (literally) delusional.
Before that visit I met one of Taz's former co-workers (and his wife) for lunch at a local Vietnamese restaurant near my mother's home. That was a fun time, we hadn't seen each other in months so there was much to catch up on and many Taz stories to tell. This co-worker was Taz's best friend at the company and I know Taz felt like a mentor to him. They used to talk on the phone several times a week. When I heard him say "hey Brandon" I knew I wasn't going to see him for a couple of hours, at least.
One of the last conversations they had was about ghosts so Brandon is a little disappointed that Taz hasn't haunted him. I admit I kinda feel the same way. Taz was such a big, over the top personality that it seems like if anybody could find a way to come back from the other side, it would be him.
And yet, maybe we're just not thinking outside of the box the way Taz would. The reason we reconnected is that Brandon's phone dialed Taz's phone (which is now the phone and number I use) all on its own. He didn't leave a message (he may not have even known it was happening at the time) but when I saw his name come up on caller ID I decided to text him just in case it was something important. From there we decided to meet for lunch and we had so much fun we're going to try to do it every month or two. Who is to say that Taz didn't have a direct hand in all that? It seems like a bizarre coincidence.
Oh wait, I totally forgot to start with telling you about Friday! I did a big thing - I wasn't feeling well when I woke up so I called in sick to work...but I started feeling better after a little nap so I decided to drive myself to the beach because that always makes me feel better. It was my first time back at the beach since July so the weather was significantly different. I do love the beach in winter, it's great for walking and that's what I did - I walked along the shore for over an hour, just breathing in the salty air. The beach soothes my soul every time. I need to remember that and go back as often as possible.
Ok, now back to Saturday. After getting home I plunged into the closet in my spare room. It had been a storage haven for me since 2006 so the crap was stacked up as high as my head. Yeah, I know, that's awful. Whatever.
But the good thing about finally clearing out my little hoarder stash is that I sometimes stumble across treasure. This is a diary that I received as a Christmas present from Taz during our first year of dating way back in the 1800s...I mean 80s. I only made a few entries but they were so lovely to read. I was head over heels in love at that point in my life. He was my first love, my first lover, the first (and only) person that ever made me feel completely safe and seen and heard and I wrote all of that down that year.
I know what it's like to love someone for a long time but I had kinda forgotten exactly how magical it feels to be *falling* in love. It makes me smile to remember what it felt like back at the beginning. That little girl had no idea what the next 30+ years of her life would be like but she knew she had finally found the love she'd been searching for.
Interestingly enough I also talked about how scary it is to open yourself up to another human, to let them know every part of your soul - the very same things I am scared about now. I guess I am coming full circle and I hope I'll get to experience all the wonder of falling in love again.
Cleaning out my room is just hard work but cleaning out Taz's old office and our garage is hard work plus so many emotions. I worked on those spaces on Sunday and besides the physical pain (I think I overdid it with my arm) there are so many emotions that I have to take breaks just to cry and grieve. It makes the work go pretty slow but I am making some progress.
I keep running across his things and I am so conflicted on what to do with all of them. Even things like these records which have been sitting in the garage for over a decade so obviously they weren't that important to him...but they were important enough for him to keep them so how could I just throw them out but do I really want to cart them around with me for the rest of my life? Every single thing, even the big box of orphaned electrical cords, causes this internal argument.
Luckily I posted a picture of the records on Instagram and a dear friend wants to give them a new home because she has a collection of 45s. I can let them go easier if I know who they are going to and that they will be appreciated.
And then there's that shoe. Remember that shoe from all my hurricane preparations? I can't bring myself to throw it out so it will probably live in the garage forever. I can't help but wonder where its mate is, I still haven't run across it. It must be in the garage somewhere, those were his mowing the lawn shoes.
The good news is that I got the garage ready for next Saturday when I have hired a handyman to come and move boxes for me. He'll move the boxes already in the garage into a corner to free up room for more boxes that will be coming from the house. I have packed a few but I will spend this week packing more so that the handyman can move as much as possible. I have to get 3 rooms in the house completely empty because there will be big changes coming in 2020. I can't talk about them yet but I'm mostly looking forward to them...except for the parts that I'm dreading. LOL
Life can't stay the same, I wouldn't even want it to stay the way it is now. This limbo existence is not for me and I am more than ready to dive headlong into my new life even if the idea scares the shit out of me.
I saw this at a bookstore over the weekend and had to take a picture. I hope my new life includes travel and lots of it.
And if travel isn't in my future - here's Plan B!
See that picture up there? I took it this morning at work, about 10 minutes before I realized my shirt was on backwards.
Here's how it's really supposed to look. You'd think I would have noticed the lack of lace in front.
It's chilly here today, perfect soup weather, so I was thrilled to see this come up in my Memories on Facebook. Five years ago I made French Onion Soup and I was smart enough to blog about it because I lost the original recipe long ago. Taz loved this soup and I have no idea why I never made it again except that it's rather time consuming. I kind of feel like making it again except the pot I used is still in storage in California and I'll probably never see it again since I can't afford to keep paying the storage bill.
Here is the link to the blog post about making the soup.
I went caroling again last night but this time with a group of friends, many of whom are learning to play the ukulele. We just walked around my friend's neighborhood, down to a street where 11 different houses decorate with many lights and coordinated music. It was a chilly evening, perfect Christmas weather (which is unusual in Florida) and we all had a great time. It makes me want to learn to play the ukulele. I've always wanted to play the guitar but my hands are small and it's been challenging. Maybe the uke would be more my speed.
I will add that to the list of things I want to do in 2020. Yes, I have a list that I will write more about as we get closer to the new year. I feel like in 2019 I was, more or less, in a holding pattern, mostly just surviving as I navigated this new world I've been thrown into. Now it's time to push the boundaries a bit, explore who I am now and try some new things. My life has changed and I want to change too. It's time to figure out who this new Jonni is. I'm feeling a bit sassy - it's time to break some rules.
My weekend had a common theme - packing up the bits and pieces of people's lives. More like packing (or throwing) them away.
I finally broke down and accepted the one offer I had to help with my mother's things. Well, I had 2 offers, both of which I turned down because I didn't want to burden the people who have already helped me so much. One person asked again and this time I had to swallow my pride and accept because I wasn't going to be able to do anything more by myself and it really did have to get done.
And I'm not going to waste my time complaining about the people who should have been helping but never even bothered, never even offered moral support. Just know that I'm done with them. And I'm not one to hold grudges so this is an entirely new feeling for me. There is a power in rage and I'm all about power these days. Since they all claim to be such strong Christians, they will have to answer for their inaction one day but it won't be me judging them. Can you tell I'm a bit miffed? LOL I'll get over it, I see no value in anger as a long term strategy no matter how satisfying it feels right now. I'm sure the novelty will wear off.
The day at my mother's old place was actually fun. I took a few pieces of furniture that had sentimental value and family history along with some pictures and "important" papers. I'm walking away from everything else, all the little knick knacks that she loved so much. It's depressing how a person's life boils down to just a bunch of junk that doesn't mean anything to anyone else.
I also took one piece with no real history except that my mother loved it - a giant shoe chair. My mother has had a life-long love affair with shoes. I remember as a child being dragged from one shoe store to the next so that she could try everything they had in her small size 5. She had a real love for high heels and things that I used to call hooker shoes. I thought her taste was awful and I developed an aversion to shoes that has mostly lasted to this day although I will swoon over a great pair of boots. Maybe the apple didn't fall all that far from the tree.
So I had no intention of taking the shoe chair but I thought maybe my god kids might enjoy it. Then I sat on it. I've never really believed in love at first sight before (still don't) but I am a true believer in love at first sit. OMG, I had to have that chair. The god kids are going to have to fight me for it.
The guy helping me didn't think the chair would fit in the borrowed truck but his wife and I wouldn't let that stop us and, sure enough, he found a way to make it and the other 3 small pieces of furniture fit in there. Of course it meant there was no place for his kids to ride but they would rather ride in my car anyway. And that was the best part of the day. My god kids can make me laugh, especially my god son. We got stuck in a traffic jam and the normally 45 minute drive lasted over 90 but we were too busy laughing and singing to notice...much. There's only so long 3 kids can be stuck in a car without resorting to "are we there yet?" Still, it was my favorite part of the day.
My other packing up experience was not so fun. The time has come to pack up Taz's home office. I've put it off for over a year but I'm going to need that room (and 2 others) emptied by the new year so on Friday night I walked in there...and promptly burst into tears, saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over again as I pulled things off shelves and placed them in boxes or trash bags. It was a horrible experience and I have no doubt that I probably shouldn't be doing it by myself but I'm going to anyway. Unlike my mom's situation, there are no family members who *should* help with this, this is my obligation alone and I'd never ask for help with it. That's not to say that I wouldn't welcome someone who knew and loved him showing up on my doorstep with empty boxes (and a bottle of wine) in hand but we all know that's not going to happen.
It's the same feeling I had when I emptied out the freezer of all *his* foods - I'm erasing his life. Pretty soon it'll be like he was never here. Eventually that room will be empty and all trace of him will be gone and it breaks my heart. For the most part I'm putting everything into boxes which will go in the garage where I can either go through them years from now or never. I'm going to label the boxes that contain things I know I *will* want to see again and some things will be put in my room although I'm trying not to build a shrine in there. I still have to find the strength to go through the clothes in our closet and his dresser.
I did find a bunch of photo albums he put together that I never even knew about. It's mostly our very early years on up through our very first visit to California in 1994. It was fun looking through them until it wasn't. I can only take old pictures for so long and then it's overwhelming because I know we'll never get the chance to make new memories.
I'll probably be back in that room again tonight, and every night until it's finished. I hate this part. I'm going to have to spend all my holiday time off working on this project. I'm making a vow right here and now that next Christmas I'm going to spend 2 weeks on a beach somewhere with nothing to do except decide who gets to rub suntan lotion on my back each day.
And I hate being so strong that nobody realizes how close I am to falling apart, how much I long to have somebody just hold me until the storm passes. Nobody ever sees the storm. Nobody would ever even know there is a storm raging inside me if I didn't write it down here. No one realizes how alone I feel (I know you do, dear reader, because I mention it every other word and I do apologize but nobody is forcing you to read this) because all they ever see is the smiling face. They hear the laughter and don't bother to look beneath the surface.
Basically, the real me is invisible. I think it's always been that way; I don't know how to change. I guess I fear that if I really let people see what's inside no one would care and I'd just break into a million pieces and get swept away by the wind.
December is rolling along and I'm rolling with it. Because it's the holiday season there have been a few fun events happening.
One of Taz's favorite things to do at Christmas was "adopt" a child or family that wouldn't be able to provide Christmas for the kids and help them. We did this almost every year, even the ones where we were struggling ourselves.
Taz grew up poor in France and always felt the sting of not having Christmas presents when all the kids around him did so he was determined to help other children so that they'd never have that feeling.
I also think he loved doing it every year because it meant he got to shop in a toy store and pretend to be a kid.
This year I decided to continue the tradition to honor his memory even though I'm struggling. I'm ok with no Christmas but I never want a child to feel that way.
Charlie got dressed up in her Santa's Little Yelper outfit (she had 4 Christmas outfits to choose from) earlier this week and we delivered presents to the motel where a bunch of families live full time because they can't afford the rent prices in the area. These are hard working families who still have fallen through the cracks. I wish I could do more for them but I'm happy to have done my part...and Taz's.
My chorus sings Christmas carols around town all during December after the pressure of our concert is over. Here we are at the local hospital. I look forward to this all year. There I am on the left, in the green shirt and Santa hat.
I was especially happy to have my god daughters join me this year. Here is the oldest being goofy. She loves to sing as much as I do so I was really happy to share this experience with her. As a pre-teen she bores easily but she really seemed to enjoy this. I hope it inspires her to join a chorus when she's older. She already sings with her elementary school chorus; I love that she's getting started early.
And finally, there's an ugly sweater contest at work. Last year I didn't feel up to participating but this year I was ALL about it. I got my sweater early and couldn't wait to wear it. I even accessorized with the perfect beret. The skirt has bells so I jingled every time I walked. I was feeling sassy and jingly all day.
Unfortunately, everybody at work told me I was too cute to be ugly so my hopes for winning have been dashed but I'm always up for being called cute! I had to get gas for the car that morning and a group of guys in a pickup truck told me I was cute too...at least that's what I choose to believe they were yelling out the window. ;-)
I was going to wear this to go caroling at the hospital but it was very hot that day, too hot for long sleeves and leopard print. Hopefully I'll get another chance when my friends and I go caroling through the neighborhood next week.
Taz loved Christmas and the entire holiday season. There were years when I didn't feel very Christmasey because of our financial struggles but he always wanted to celebrate. One year I refused to put up our big tree so he went out and got a little tree and decorated it while I was at work (he was home looking for a job) just to surprise me and remind me of the joy of the season despite our circumstances.
I think that's one of the benefits of marriage - you take turns cheering each other up, supporting each other. He wasn't always upbeat and cheery, he could go very dark, but never at Christmas no matter what was happening.
So, in that spirit, I'm having a holly, jolly Christmas this year even if it's just Charlie and me.
Well, a lot has been going on and I don't even want to talk about it but I've promised myself I will document my journey as long as it lasts.
What you may not know about me is that I was born late in life to my parents, they were more the age of grandparents to me and, in fact, I am basically the same age as my sister's 4 children so we all grew up together. My mother (their grandmother) took care of them a lot when they were younger because their parents were working and going to school which was nice for me because I had siblings to play with. Even after they moved away and we weren't able to be physically close every day she never forgot a birthday or holiday. I had grandparents who didn't give a fig about me, never sent me cards or presents, so I was envious.
While most people my age are dealing with parents in their 70s, my mother is 97. Yeah, that's old.
For most of her senior years she has been relatively healthy mentally but in the past year we have entered the dementia zone.
I think I talked about it briefly how during that horrific month of December last year she started having hallucinations and delusions and ended up in a lock-down psych ward at the local hospital and that's where I spent my Christmas. I still don't have total recall of that month. I was doing some serious grieving of my own for Taz, my entire world had been blown apart and my life would never be the same and suddenly I had to deal with the greatest crisis my mother had ever faced. I felt completely and utterly alone, not a single member of my family even cared about what was going on. I don't know how I got through it, I can't even let my mind wander back there because it's too awful.
Well guess what? It's starting up again! Aren't I a lucky gal?
After they pumped her full of anti psychotic drugs she stabilized enough to go back to her assisted living rooms. Well, not really, she had a bad fall and for a while it looked like she might die from swelling/bleeding outside of the brain...all that happening just a month after my husband died from bleeding inside the brain. Good times.
But then that didn't happen and eventually things got back to normal except that I could see a lot of decline in her mental capabilities. I kept up my bi-weekly visits, sometimes more often, but it was increasingly hard to talk to her because she would forget everything we said from visit to visit. But she never forgot the important stuff.
So I've been looking forward to a quiet and more pleasant holiday season. I did end up enjoying my birthday, in fact, I had just gotten home from my last post-birthday outing (movie with my kids) when I got the calls - my mother has started having hallucinations and delusions again and now she's added wandering. She would get up, this woman who has barely moved from her bed for a year, and go out walking the halls of her facility even getting on the elevator because they found her on a different floor. She told them she was waiting for a man to come by who was going to propose to her even though he'd been married 4 times before. She always has very complicated back stories for her delusions.
Obviously this wasn't safe for her (the wandering, not the fake proposal - I would love it if someone would marry her and take care of her!) and after getting her checked out for potential infections which could be causing this (no infections), they determined she needed to move to the nursing home part of the facility and out of assisted living. We had entered the final chapter.
Of course all of this would be easy if she could just move and everything stayed the same but, of course, there's money involved and she doesn't have any (which may explain why my family stays uninvolved) so suddenly I have to do a bunch of running around trying to secure a funding source. If only I had leave at work so I could get paid but I used all of it with my broken arm so all this running around is costing me money I don't have.
And then there's the issue of cleaning out the rooms she's just vacated. I have been given very little time to do it because she's being charged for every day the room isn't released. But darned if it isn't pretty hard to pack up boxes and move furniture with just one arm. I've been told by the doctor not to carry anything more than 2 pounds with my bad arm until he gives the all clear. So I worked in her rooms both Saturday and Sunday (spending gas money to drive 80 miles each day) and it still doesn't look like I've done anything. And I don't want to just let it all be trashed because she's still alive and will be upset if she thinks it's all gone so I have to take much of it home to my house to store it until she no longer is aware.
And then there's that - I visited her both days and she still recognizes me but she doesn't have context for what year it is or anything that's happened in her recent life. She asked me if I was married because she doesn't remember Taz even when I showed her a picture. And it just broke my heart to have to say out loud, again, what happened to him. I burst into tears and I haven't done that in a long time. It still didn't make much of an impression on her except then she started the endless asking if I had a boyfriend, was I dating, do any of my friends' husbands have friends they could introduce me to, was I bringing a date for Christmas dinner, etc. I finally had to tell her that there was absolutely no one out there who was even interested in dating me to get her to stop. And that hurt...because it's true.
But the worst was yesterday when I went to visit her again after packing up a box - I can only drag one box out to the car at a time and it's so hard to pick it up to get it in and out of the car. I wondered if she would remember I'd been there the day before. She not only remembered, she had somehow convinced herself that I was coming to get her out of that place and take her back to live with me. She was crushed when I told her that wasn't going to happen.
And then I felt awful.
No matter how old you are, there is just something about hearing your parent say your name in that disappointed voice that is like a knife through your heart. She kept asking if she was ever going to get out of there. In her mind, she was living a normal, busy, productive life just yesterday and then suddenly she's forced into this. She doesn't remember that she's basically been bedridden for years now. She needs 24 hour supervision and I can't do that and work to keep a roof over my head.
It's not like it's been an easy road with my mother all these years, she has always been a difficult person, but at least I always had Taz to talk to about all of it. He was amazingly understanding and would let me pour all my frustrations out and then hold me while I cried, telling me one day we would be free of the burden and could just have fun together without that obligation. Now I'm doing this completely by myself and I seriously don't know if I can. I've tried so hard to be strong through everything that's happened this past year but going through this on my own is almost more than I can bear.
I think I need a Christmas miracle.
So here's the weird thing - I'm single.
Yes, I know I've technically been single for over a year now but it's only recently that I've actually started to *feel* single.
And yes, I know I've talked a lot about being ready to date again and all that but I'm not sure I actually felt single at that point, I just felt lonely.
But recently there's been a subtle shift in my head and I'm coming to accept my singleness. Not thrilled about it, as you can imagine, but acceptance doesn't have to mean you're happy about what has happened.
I think it all really hit me in the head when a co-worker started giving me tips about how he used to get through the holidays as a single person. He figured I needed to know these things because I am now...a single person.
Yuck. I liked being married. The last time I was "single" (as in not in a relationship, not necessarily as in not being married) I was 20 and a virgin. Yes, I was a late bloomer. Don't judge. I have said it before, I was a very good girl.
That was a hell of a long time ago, let me tell you. I almost don't remember being single except for the sense of isolation. I didn't enjoy singlehood at all. I certainly didn't take advantage of it.
So now I'm most certainly not 20. Being single at that age was the norm, most of my friends were too. Being single at NOT 20 doesn't feel at all normal. Although I know there are a lot of older single women out there, most of my friends are married so I'm an oddity. The only other widows I know locally are senior citizens and I'm not there yet. Their situations are completely different from mine.
I feel like I should embrace singleness now and yet I really don't want to. I think my strength is in being a good partner and I know someone would be damn lucky to have me.
We'll see.
And for the record, I kind of feel like a virgin again, is that weird? I don't feel like this will benefit me or make me at all desirable on the dating scene. So yeah, I'd better come to terms with singlehood because that's probably going to be my label from here on out.
Can you believe it's December already? This year has actually flown by. I'm not going to lie, I'm glad November is over; it wasn't my favorite month although there were parts of it that were magical. There were other parts that almost did me in.
I've already started my December with a bang - last night was my Christmas concert. I've sung with a local chorus for the past 3 years and we do 3 concerts a year plus a couple of local holiday (Memorial and Veterans Day) appearances.
I love to sing, it's my #1 passion. Taz definitely supported it, he bought me a keyboard when I first got back into singing and when I joined this current chorus he did a lot of research to buy a special folder to hold all my music during concerts. It's really nice too, everyone asks about it when I use it.
I was definitely thinking of him when I got the folder out and started putting my music in order last night. It wasn't going to be my first appearance without him (that was Veterans Day in November) but it was a big deal going to a concert without him. Always before he'd accompanied me to the rehearsal a couple of hours before the concert and just stayed so he got to hear all our music several times in just a few hours.
The picture above shows me getting ready for the concert. Unfortunately my hair doesn't easily hold a curl so wearing curlers was kind of for nothing. The curls fell out within 5 minutes but it was really cute for those 5 minutes! I consider myself a pretty girly-girl but I have to admit that hair sometimes defeats me.
My singing season isn't quite over yet. We have lined up a few caroling gigs throughout December. Last year, in the midst of all the sorrow, going caroling was about the only normal thing I could do and I clung to it like a lifeline. I barely had any energy, I was drowning in grief, but singing the Christmas carols that Taz loved was the one thing I *could* do. I would show up, sing and then slip out the back before anyone could talk to me. I could barely hold a conversation without crying but I could sing.
This year I'm much better but I still look forward to each caroling event. I even have a couple of special, funny, over the top outfits picked out. Singing brings me joy and it brings joy to the listeners as well. We'll be singing in a couple of retirement homes, to the patrons of a homes tour around town and then, finally, in the hospital.
My beloved god daughters are going to join me at some of the caroling events and I'm thrilled to be sharing my love of music with them.
December and all the joys of Christmas are calling.
