It’s that time of year again where Facebook is kindly sharing the memories of things that occurred in the weeks leading up to Mr. Virgo’s death. This is a wonderful feature, really. It reminds us of things that happened in the past. Birthday parties, the birth of new family members, that dinner party you had to celebrate something special. Those memories come in and give us warm fuzzies. But what about the memories leading up to a tragic loss? They can be so painful…especially early in the grief process. Even now…leading up to the fifth angelversary of my late husband’s death, these memories take me back to that innocent time before I knew what death REALLY was.
Something I knew nothing about growing up. There were no boundaries save for one. Don’t rock the boat. Ahhh…the walking on egg shells that comes with being the child of an alcoholic. We learn at an early age to dodge bullets. But boundaries? We either didn’t have many…or I didn’t understand the concept. I didn’t know for the longest time where other people ended and I began. I lived my life in a sort of parasitic relationship with my “hosts”…much like Spanish Moss and Mistletoe. My insecurities made it difficult for me to express my own opinions. I was a chameleon…I changed with the whims of my beneficiary…whomever it should be.
Let us celebrate and be GLAD in it! It is so easy to celebrate and be glad in the day when all is right in your world, isn’t it? I mean, we want God’s blessings, right? We are happy in our blessings and we (hopefully) thank God for providing for us. It’s a different story when things aren’t going well. It is SO hard to celebrate and be glad when your world is falling apart. I don’t think God is asking you to go out in the streets and celebrate with singing and dancing if you are sincerely in the throes of pain. We can still celebrate the fact we have a loving Father who is going to use our pain for good in some way. He is working in the background, far beyond our understanding, twisting and turning events to bring you favor. We can still be glad in the day he has made, even if we can’t drag ourselves out of bed to enjoy it. I’ve been there. I know what mattress surfing is like. And I still rejoiced that I had someone who loved me more than I could ever imagine.
I have loved art since I could hold those fat crayons in my chubby toddler fingers. I loved school because, not only did I learn the secret to time travel was reading, I also learned the secret to inner peace was making art.
I was fortunate to have wonderful art teachers in school though I can’t name one. I loved working in pastels. I struggled the most with watercolor. My favorite thing is drawing. Pencils, pen and ink, charcoal, pastels, colored pencils. I love the feel of the paper and how the medium lays in the fibers.
When I first moved to West Virginia in October 2014, I was living in my camper out on the farm. Shortly after my arrival, I began to notice a low humming sound every night when I went to bed. At first, I thought perhaps something was wrong with some mechanism in the camper itself. Then I thought perhaps the furnace in the house was so loud I was hearing it. I ruled both theories out when I discovered it was continuous, not cyclical.
I have excellent long term memory. Short term is getting shorter as I age, sped along by grief and a multitude of head injuries along the way, I am sure. But, long term…you can make bank on the accuracy of my memories. My earliest memory takes me back to sitting in the front yard, in the dirt, just inside the fence. I was still in diapers. I remember the way the sun shone on the plastic pants I wore over them as I rolled the material between my chubby baby fingers. Two large neighborhood dogs came up on the other side of the fence and started barking at me. My mother ran and picked me up, comforting my terrified screams. I had nightmares often and can remember sitting in my crib, seeing those dogs coming at me and screaming for my mother to come save me.
Yesterday was International Pie Day. Ooooooh…that one blew right by me till we were watching the news last night (yes, I actually watched the news but just this once. I was updating my computer and got caught by surprise. sigh) There was one of those inevitable human interest stories that told us about the annual celebration of my all time favorite dessert…PIE! I used to bake competitively and was known as The Pie Queen in my little valley in Colorado. Those were the halcyon days of my youth, teaching people the intricacies of a proper pie crust. These days, Mr. Pillsbury and I make our pies with that fabulous ready made crust that you unroll, fill and bake. Voila! Instant dessert!
Although I am at the farm quite often, I only do a real walkabout once every month or two. I check the outbuildings for damage, do a quick inventory of the chores that need doing, watch for trees than need felled before they come down where I don’t want them, and get a feel for the land in every season. That way I am more aware when things look out of the ordinary and I can fix them right away. I’ve noticed the old tool shed has tipped more toward the barn so this summer I’m going to have to get down under the back corner with a hydraulic jack to even it up. The yard is yet again full of mole hills. I need to spread something to kill the cutworms they feed on and that will send them on to greener pastures. I need to get ahead of the poison ivy in the spring. It’s easy to spot the vines when the leaves are off. The vines are “hairy” and often grow up the sides of buildings and other trees.
Marshmallow Ranch actually started in 2001. I was separated from Hubby #2 the year before. I had worked in medicine before becoming a stay-at-home mom in 1986. Unfortunately, since my soon-to-be ex was a doctor in the community, it was a decidedly uncomfortable environment in which to seek employment. I found myself struggling to find a new career in our small, mountain community. I worked for about a year filling in at the local downtown shops…working one day a week at each of five stores, giving the shop owners a welcome day off. I found I enjoyed the interaction with the customers and I was very good at merchandising. My ex noticed this and proposed I open a shop of my own and he would help me get started.
I had a huge day planned yesterday. I was really looking forward to gathering with two different groups of friends. I awoke sometime before dawn and my body just said, “Nope. Not today. Go back to sleep.” In the past, I might have forced myself up and made myself go. Since losing Mr. Virgo, I’ve learned to listen more to my body when it speaks to me.
Grief not only causes things like “grief brain” which was illustrated in the article I shared with you the other night. Several health ailments can be attributed to grief and the resultant stress it causes. High levels of cortisol…the “fight or flight” hormone…can cause everything from high blood pressure to heart disease to depression to substance abuse. It also affects your immune system and you tend to get sick easier and things last longer. There isn’t an expiration date on grief either. You may not be actively grieving, but you can still suffer from the repercussions.
“Elk in Colorado” by Ginny McKinney
“Boundaries” by Ginny McKinney
Praise
“Little Girl in Blue”
“Three Apples”
