Reminiscent Dream

Today was a trouble-shooting day. I ordered a cell phone holder for the car. It arrived missing a little part. I couldn't reach the company, so I started looking through all the little parts we've collected over the years and found a little clamp that did just the trick. I'll still get in touch with the company, but it is usable in the meantime.

I took Microsoft up on their free Windows 10 upgrade in early August, but missed the 30-day roll-back 'window' if something didn't work right. We'll, as you know, other things happened. So I chatted with a MS tech, explained my situation and that I had to restart my laptop about 8 – 10 times before I would get the Start menu and even then some inherent apps would not work. He said they normally charge $99 (what a number, right?) for fixing it but he would do it for free. He also said that this was a common problem people are having with the upgrade. So it was actually relaxing relinquishing control of the computer and just sit back and watch what he was doing. I have been perusing the Windows forums and knew of the approach he was using. He actually had to create a whole new profile and copy everything from my profile over then delete mine. It took him about an hour and a half. It would have taken me a lot longer. My desktop has been running fine on the other hand. But I lost the ability of what Windows now calls the 'homegroup,' in other words, networking my computers. Back I went to sift through questions and solutions online today. Bingo! Found it. Turn off the computers. Set up the homegroup from the laptop, it then generates a password, start up the desktop, enter the password, and Viola! Done!

I still haven't been able to get a complete 8 hours sleep at night. Since I was a teenager, that always seemed to be the magic number for my ability to function properly. So after I fixed the homegroup problem and put some more stuff away left from moving all the furniture around the other day and I felt beat. Odin, Cassie and I laid down for an hour-long nap.

I fell right to sleep. I had the strangest dream though. It's the first time I can remember dreaming about Charley since he's left. It felt real also. Like all dreams, there's that surreal quality, but lately that has been the major theme even in my waking hours. So, I'm telling Charley that even though he was growing older I am not going to mourn him until he was gone. If I did so, it would waste time we had together now. We hugged and cuddled. Then the surreality oozed back into the dream and I did some odd stuff around the property that actually never has happened and really didn't understand what was happening. Then I woke up.

Charley has always been quite capable, but the last few years, his physical strength had declined (even though he was really quite strong) and he complained about the losses of what he physically could have done in the past. We all do that. As we age, the vessel which holds our minds begins to show cracks and weaken. We had a conversation one time about my responses to his complaints. Since I am a troubleshooter, I would come up with steps we could take to help the situation. He said that didn't make him feel better that instead it made him feel like I was denying his ailments by explaining them away. Which he was right; I admitted it at the time. It was my defense to not acknowledging that he was slowing walking away and would eventually leave me.

I tried not to dwell on this aspect of him disappearing. I knew, like in my nap-time dream today, that worrying about the inevitable would just waste the precious time we had left. So we were traveling, walking, hiking as much as we could while we could still do it together. If there is one thing, I am grateful for it's that he went so quick. This has been a tremendous shock and weight of the sadness is immense for me, but I'm happy for him. We watched four other people in our lives whose illness lingered and they just dwindled to nothingness over years before leaving this world. That type of death is even scarier. Charley left while packing for our adventure to Burning Man. We'd made at least 7 trips this year in the Casita, including the grand road-trip on the Alaskan highway for two-and-a-half months this summer.

Dreams, my mind working in the dark to make sense of my experiences.

Good day for a change

Today was a good day. I've written enough sadness that I thought I owed myself, and you (and there are a few of 'you' are out there) a good story. I didn't plan it. Well, that's not exactly true. I did plan to be busy today. Although, I was so busy last week, when Sunday rolled around I was emotionally...well...the previous post pretty much says it all. So I rested and watched movies on Monday and Tuesday. Nothing, can you believe that nothing was scheduled?

So my neighbor came over this morning and we began a transformation of the house's arrangement. We started with things that Charley and I had talked about then I took it to a whole new level. This afternoon, another friend, a BIG, smiling, happy dude with muscles, and his son came over and moved the big, heavy, awkward stuff. I worked and was on my feet all day and didn't even stop to eat until 8:15 tonight when I finally sat down. It's not finished, but all the furniture is basically sitting in different spots and in different rooms (not that my house has many rooms). Now, I'm left with little stuff that gathers in places as I found myself saying a time or two, 'Oh, so that's where that went.'

Today's story is good. I only cried a little this morning with my neighbor as we ran through memories of his things. Good news about that is I'm beginning to cry a little. For about a month and a half it was all inside about to implode. I'm going to go take a bath in our beautiful, claw-footed, cast iron bathtub and lay my weary body down to sleep. Good night. 

Love story

I just watched a love story the other evening. We’ve always loved love stories. We both shared this love of romance. We couldn't help but compare it to our own true love story. He was 14 years older than me yet I never felt the age difference. He said he felt the same way. Our conversation encompassed philosophy, religion, psychology, history, or politics and beyond. He said that if I didn't know the subject matter discussed that I was quick enough to continue once given a little background on the subject matter. In sync, that's what I described in a previous post and there's no other way to describe it.

He was so secure and sure of himself. For a girl who only moved around a 10-mile area (bus and by foot because my parents didn't own a car) growing up, he represented adventure and filled my hunger for philosophy and psychology. I was trying to understand my place in the world and the trauma I was birthing from. I scared him a little also. He didn't know how damaged I was but he once told a friend of his who was concerned that I was too young for Charley, “If you're walking along the beach and find a jewel, do you not stop and pick it up?” That's how I felt when I walked into that room where everyone was either sitting or standing and he stood out. 'Why?' you ask. Because he was sitting on the ground. I knew he was different. I wanted different. I wanted enlightened. I wanted a seeker. I wanted a philosopher. I wanted someone with whom I could analyze and share this world. We have all kinds of descriptions like that for each other. A friend, my soul sister, asked me what were my last words to Charley? I didn't have to think. He had just told me to rest my pulled muscle so I would be healed for Burning Man. He gave me a couple of sitting projects for last minute costumes. We kissed and told each other, “I love you.”

Actually, we met at the perfect moment in time. Life had conditioned us for each other. A year and a half before we met, he left a marriage of fights which waned to indifference. Me? Well, if you've been following my blog you know or if you're just now joining this monologue of mine, I had a tormented childhood which I left completely in order to save myself, to save my sanity. So we were both ready for a life without petty mind games. Yes, we fought. Maybe, maybe once or twice a year and the cause was always determined to be displacement, stress coming from an outside source.

I almost married someone else. Actually, I was seeing him at the same time I met Charley. Someone who I would have had a more traditional marriage. He was offering me security in legal terms and the promise of motherhood and children. I already met his family and was approved. This union would have been more traditional in the sense that he had already told me that he had to have a weekly night out with the boys. Then one night, he picked me up and informed me that he and his friend joined the army that day. I was not even included in the conversation. Marry this guy? Really? I don't think so. So I chose Charley. Now, you have to understand that he did not want to marry me. His first marriage scared him. My choice: marriage, security, tradition, children, motherhood OR unbridled passion. I didn’t think twice. I chose the latter.

We did eventually tie the legal knot but that date was never significant since we’d been together for a few years. We always considered the month we first consummated our paralleled existence to be used in the timeline considered as 'Charley and Kamala.' So that's over 41 years ago.

Well, I have to tell you, I’m currently riding one hell of a roller-coaster ride, with mostly downward spirals. Staying busy is good in one respect, but I'm exhausted, emotionally exhausted. I just came home from a grief meeting. I look at the other women in the group and it's like I'm looking into a mirror. So lost, so alone. I mean, I could be sitting in a room full of people, which actually has happened at least 8 times in just the last week, but I am still alone. I go out, interact, laugh at jokes. Everyone says, “Wow, you're doing great.” Only a few see past my empty eyes into the cascade of sadness within my being. The other women in the group who work and have this timely schedule to fulfill are not any less distracted from this hurt, this betrayal of life, from this alone-ness. They, too, talk about being in a crowd yet still being alone.

He who filled me spiritually and physically is gone. I'm a shell. I paid attention to small details and he paid attention to the grander scheme. Together we were one. It's like more than half of me has been amputated, my mind, my spirit, my love. What remains is just a shell, a walking, breathing corpse, a facade. All emotions thrust down deep into my core where I scream in silent agony. I vibrate. I can't stop vibrating. All I'm left with is dealing with details. What's happening with the bigger picture?

This thing of grief of which I'm enslaved harnesses my deepest thoughts. Lost, that's a word I used earlier. Yes, lost. I'm lost. Lost in this familiar world that has become foreign land at which I look upon. The sun shines but I can't see for the clouds in my mind. Lost and alone.   

Reflections of essence

So, I'm sitting in the house thinking how I am the only human occupying this household while I'm petting my silky black cat, Night-night. In essence, no one to talk to who will comprehend what I'm saying except myself. The animals know I'm not right. They know the house is not right. Odin, my big dog is very attentive. Cassie, my little whippet, is nervous. My cats seem more attentive than usual.

One of my biggest fears, when we first got together was that our relationship wasn't real. You see, I didn't have a very good childhood. Most people grow up really screwed up if they even came close to what I went through. But I didn't. Charley thought that I must have taken mental notes how not to be. I think that is definitely possible, but also think that it is genetic. I was born into this world a smiler. I met him just a short time after I was independent, out on my own, living on my own. Back in the day when we didn't have cell phones to locate each other, Charley and I would be in a grocery store. We would go our separate ways; we were so in sync, that we would rarely duplicate grocery items and also get everything we needed. Then, every now and then, I couldn't find him. I would get this panicky feeling that my new, now wonderful life has all been a dream. Then I'd hear his familiar footsteps and there was his smile and beautiful eyes. My new, now wonderful life was still intact.

He's gone. Now it's real. The memories, even recent memories, are all like some grand illusion some magician has played an evil trick on me. Is this what they call 'going mad?'

I'm staying active. My calendar is full. But the other day, I fell. Really bruised my hand. It swelled so that I can barely make out my knuckles. Yet here I sit to type out my thoughts which are flooding me at this moment. I fell while crossing an intersection while walking my dogs. I think I tripped over my own feet. That doesn't matter because down I went. Hard. The dogs just wondered what I was doing down on the ground all of a sudden. Cars entering the intersection slowed to let me get up and get out of their way. Foolish, that's how I felt. Man! Did my hand hurt. But getting up was lonely. It was only me helping me up. He was not there to lend that strong hand I had come so accustomed to accepting in mine. The older I get, the more precious life is because it is actually too short. No matter how long you live, it's always too short.

You can't call this denial. I saw him. I did CPR. I tried. I mean I really TRIED! I can't get those images out of my head. Then, I held his limp, cooling hand in the hospital after they officially said that he, his essence, his intelligence, his wisdom, his playfulness, his wit, his loving and ever so gentle touch, his sarcasm, his smiles, his strength, his love, his passion, and occasionally (although very rare) his roar—was gone. Gone from this world. Gone from my world. It's like I'm standing in that grocery store, looking for him, only this time, this time I can't hear his footsteps or see his smile coming around the corner. Alone.

I look at sunrises and sunsets. I've started a mental mantra: I'm seeing this for both of us. I'm enjoying our favorite season of fall—for both of us. I go on each day for both of us. My memories keep him with me, his essence.

Footprints in the Desert

I went for a walk today

Just so the dogs could run and play

Out in the desert

My mind it did divert

With the warm breeze

My sadness did ease

I felt Charley's touch against my skin

To my face I felt a grin

Dogs ran with glee

As they wandered free

I looked upon the land

As we walked upon the sand

Our footprints buried deep from months and years before

From years of duet walking I felt my spirit soar

Today with strength I walked

As the breeze and the sun talked.

---Kamala

Shroud of blackness

I'm standing in the middle of my house

Our house

Staring into the darkness of my mind

Staring into a shroud of blackness

Staring into my lost memories

Not believing

It must be a nightmare

Please, tell me it's a nightmare

Emptiness surrounds my being

Dogs nudge me to awaken me

From this lost-ness, from this darkness

I immerge briefly to see the light of day

I look around and it's empty out there too

Sadness reigns my spirit

Shock breaks my soul

Death, worked into everyday conversation

Stated on forms, predicting life terms

The real meaning of death is emptiness

A vacancy of intelligence, spirit, sparkle

A vacancy of a warm embrace

A vacancy of smooth, soft kisses

A vacancy of support

A vacancy of my soul mate

Gone to the earth, stars, and moon

Empty

My house is so empty

I went out to the shop and he wasn't there piddling around like he always was doing.

He was always doing, fixing or creating something.

His imagination surrounds me in his decorations and creations.

My heart aches.

I'm making my dogs sad.

I find myself sitting and staring.

I found Odin, my big dog looking at me concerned.

Cassie is nervous and is chewing on things.

I keep reliving those moments of futile efforts of CPR,

His nonreactive face.

It's easier to talk to strangers than it is to talk to friends.

I'm having bad days, why should I make their day bad?

My body keeps vibrating.

When will it stop vibrating?

Lost

Thoughts we shared to prepare for this
I really could have missed
Was not supposed to become a reality
My mind is a maze, all jumbled and cloudy
But here I sit
In a dark pit.
Keep doing things that are objective
Keeping at bay the subjective

Paper whirlwinds

Surround my spirit as it bends

Appointments, deeds, money, wills

The doctor prescribed some pills

Sleep deprived

Thoughts spin around and collide

My body vibrates

My soul, it violates

Catching up slowly

Trying to attack the world boldly

My mind is a maze and I'm lost

As my emotions frost

Multitude of things I misplace

My soul, my being is displaced

Crying by myself feels weird

Crying in front of people is my fear
Gone is my love, my dear, my soul mate
Solemn sadness is the weight.

--Kamala

Sand

I look at the myriad grains of sand.

All living things, all returning to the grains of sand

Dust to dust

Ashes to ashes

Life scurries around as the Earth's breath churns everything up into swirling circles

Chaos ensues

As the dance continues

Love and hope

Fears and tears

Sadness and happiness

Joy and contentment

Dust to Dust

Ashes to ashes

Life scurries 'round

Chaos ensues

As the dance continues

Sand, I am but a grain of sand on a dune.
--Kamala Land