I wish there was a pill for this….

Somewhere around 7 or 8  years ago, I knew something was wrong.    I didn’t know what it was, but I couldn’t stop crying.    Mike had come in for the weekend, and he kept asking me what happened to the Becky he knew.    I can’t even remember making the appointment, but I remember my doctor walking into the exam room and asking what’s wrong — and I just busted out in tears.    She asked again.    I remember saying, “my parents are old, my dog is getting older, I’m an only child and my job has become so political that everything at work sucks (and that was way before the problems of the current administration).    She gave me a prescription, and my mood turned around in 48 hours.   When I went back for my appointment a week later, she said that a chemical was out of balance and the pills must have evened it out.

Since then I’ve watched my mother lose a horrible struggle with pancreatic cancer and I became a caregiver to my dad until he passed away 3 years later.    Through all that, I went home to Misty.    We even took her to my dad’s funeral.

Misty turned 16 last November, she had cataracts and her hips didn’t work like they used to.   Her back legs kind of waddled like a duck.   When it started snowing in January — she was having trouble navigating on the snow and ice — and we all wanted to get to the south where she wouldn’t have to deal with such crummy conditions.

We’ve been snowbirding around Texas for 2 months, and she has enjoyed laying in the grass outside the trailer nearly every day.   About a month ago she had some tremors — and I started to worry.   She got finicky.   She had trouble chewing.   She drank a lot of water.  Or maybe I only thought she drank a lot of water, because I needed to hold the water glass so she wouldn’t tip it over.  

Over the past week, she ate less and less, and slept more and more.  That means I worried more and more.  I have only left the trailer once in the last 10 days.   Yesterday when she woke up her eyes didn’t smile at me.   We had watched my mother basically starve to death, and I knew I couldn’t go through that again.    We took Misty to the vet yesterday afternoon, and we said goodbye, so she could make her way across the Rainbow Bridge.   I don’t know how Mike drove us back to the RV park, because we were both heartbroken.

Today I’m back to being teary eyed, listless, and I can’t think straight.   I don’t want to go home because Misty won’t be there.   I don’t want to leave this place, because Misty won’t be in the back seat with Luci.   Any little thing makes me cry.    I wish there was a prescription that could fix this.

We love you little Misty dog.   You were an incredible gift.  We’ll miss you.
An only child’s journey continues……..

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Comfort Care. Who knew the words would impact me this way?

Two days ago we heard on the news that 92 year old Barbara Bush (wife of president George H Bush)  had decided to make the switch from medical treatment for her chronic disease to comfort care.    At the same time. we heard that she had congestive heart failure and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, the same health issues that claimed my dad at the age of 92 (coincidently — the same age as Barbara Bush).  From Sunday evening when we heard that, to tonight, when we heard she had passed away, those two words, “comfort care” have been ringing in my ears.

Why?   I’m not particularly political, although I have always admired Mrs. Bush for her quick wit and her willingness to speak her mind.    I found her book fascinating, which only fueled my admiration.    But it’s not that.    It’s the words, and my experience with the words before my Dad passed away.    It’s something I don’t know that I could have prepared for, but I do know that what what happened that night, even though it was 26 months ago (almost exactly) still breaks my heart.

If you have followed Only Child’s Journey, and my blogs through my parents last months and days – you know that my Dad’s hospitalization was a roller coaster with a zillion twists and turns in his 17 day hospitalization.    One step forward, two steps back.    Someone would come talk to me about “hospice care”, to my understanding another word for “comfort care”, and then the next day — my dad would be doing his exercises, joking with the nurses, and the hospice people would tell me he wasn’t eligible for hospice any more, and it was time to talk about home nursing or a nursing home.

My dad told me that if I sent him to a nursing home, he would jump off a bridge (he never learned to swim) — and even though I knew that the chances of him getting to a bridge to jump off were small — I couldn’t do that to him    So we continued with medical care and even 24 hours earlier, the social workers were talking to me about agencies that could provide us help when we took him home from the hospital.   Mike had just come back from a trip to Salt Lake so he stayed in the hospital with my dad, and I went home to get some sleep and comfort from my dog, who hadn’t seen me for more than 2 hours at a time in days.   After a great start to the next morning, something happened and things went south.   As I try to remember that afternoon & evening — the only thing I remember is my Dad yelling that he wanted to die.  I wasn’t able to cry then, I had to do what he wanted.  I asked him if he was sure, and he was.    We paged the doctors.    I had to say the words.    Comfort care.    They asked me several times.    Every time they unplugged something, we dealt with knowing what was happening.  The oxygen that was helping him breathe was one of the last things.     The respiratory therapist asked me if I wanted it unplugged, and told me it could be considered as life support.    I asked her to take it away gradually so he wouldn’t be in pain.   I had fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning when she turned it off.

Those two words.   Comfort care.   They mean that as a loved one, you’re operating on automatic.   You’re doing what you need to do, but they also mean you may not be able to process what is happening, because you’re worried about someone else, not your feelings. As an only child, I was the ones that had to say the words.  Remove medical care.   Switch to comfort care.  I never dreamed, that hearing on TV that someone else with the same health problems had made the decision to switch to comfort care would bring it all back.  Still, my tears didn’t come until we heard that Mrs. Bush had passed away.   Once I heard that, the tears wouldn’t stop.

Mike and I have been having a great time being snowbirds, exploring new parts of the country, and truly enjoying retirement.    And yet, when we heard the words “comfort care” on the news, it all came rushing back and all I hear is my Dad asking us (by yelling – a typical Murray volume)  to let him die.   Comfort Care.  I had to say the words.   I had to speak to the health care providers, and I was 57 years old with more than 25 years working in a health care system.  I was blessed to have both my parents for that long.   I know that, I’m not whining.   I would have never dreamed, that hearing someone else make that choice, and then pass away 48 hours later, would bring it all back.  My prayers are with anyone that has to say those words.    Comfort Care.

Comfort Care.    I hate those words.   They bring tears.  They make me feel it all again.
An only child’s journey continues…..

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We had the best day and it all was because everything fell into place!   Mike called it Serendipity!   We’ve been in Ruidoso, NM for about a little over a week.    It keeps snowing at home, and we’re waiting for it to really warm up before we drive back to Iowa.    I miss Iowa – but I love wearing my flip flops every day!


We had been researching things to do, places to go, and of course, places to eat/drink – and in my internet surfing I came across a blog that said the Rio Grand Grill and Tap Room had some great food and beer!  Have you ever heard of Green Chili Cervesa?   It was good!    We went to eat there — and the food was fantastic – so fantastic that we went back there another day for lunch.   After we left – Mike asked me if I had heard the people at the bar talking about the jewelry that was available in the “gazebo” that was a better deal than another store I had mentioned visiting.   Of course, I hadn’t heard a word.   He says I was probably playing with my phone!   So we just had to figure out where this “gazebo” place was.  It took some searching – but we found a gazebo shopping center on the main drag.   We went there, and yes, we found a store with jewelry in it and it was called the Hummingbird Gallery.

David and Edna Thompson at the Hummingbird Gallery in Ruidoso NM.

We went there and we were looking around, and I saw this amazing pottery that was designed with horse hair.    At one point the proprietor asked us where we were from.  When we said we were from Iowa – he said he was born and went through high school in Dubuque, Iowa — just about 90 miles away from where we live.    This store had gorgeous Native American jewelry, and most of the pieces had the name of the designer.    The designs on some of the silverwork (even the pieces without stones) were amazing.  I’m guessing I was probably drooling and that was before the man started taking out pieces for me to try on.

Anyway — we started chatting with them about how they found the jewelry, the designers they work with, and before we left, I felt like we’d made new friends.   Edna’s silver jewelry was amazing – and she kept telling me that her daughter only wore gold.   David’s turquoise watch band was incredible — and we chatted with them about a lot of the turquoise pieces in their shop.     I tried to get her to adopt me, and she told me she would put me on the list!    And of course –I purchased a new bracelet from a Navajo designer (Thomas Charley)  whose work is also in the Smithsonian.   I am so excited!

Of course I asked them if they were on social media, and they said an emphatic NO. Their business comes from people that have wandered in their store, made a purchase and keep coming back.   Their business comes from people who call them and ask them about new pieces.    They opened the shop 35 years ago, and it’s obvious how much they appreciate the artwork of the Navajo designers, and they have a lot of one-of-a-kind pieces.    They told stories about Navajo designers who live so far off the beaten trail that their family is buried in their front yard.    They told stories of tracking down a certain designer to get some of their work.   They told me that if I purchased a piece from Thomas Charley I would be addicted, and keep adding to my collection.   Obviously, I purchased the bracelet in spite of this warning!   

Sometimes, things just fall into place.   It’s serendipity.
An only child’s journey continues…..


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Oh my gosh, I’ve been terrible about blogging!   The 2nd big thing that happened to us in October (besides adopting Luci) was Mike retired on October 1.     Adjusting to him being retired has been interesting — we have pretty different ideas about what he should be doing with his time!   He seems to think cooking and taking care of the kids (Misty & Luci) is a full time job!    I think it’s a job that requires multi-tasking!

At any rate, since I can support my Farm Girl clients anywhere there is internet, we decided to load up the trailer at the end of January and head south.   For the record, I’m still struggling with facing that we are “old” enough to be snowbirds!    Mike says he’s starting a blog about our travels — and all the lessons we’ve learned about RV-ing — but so far — he’s been too busy!

Lesson Learned #1:   Don’t listen to Mike when packing the trailer.    He started making comments about me making too many trips to the trailer with clothes. I’m sure he didn’t take into account that I was also carrying sheets/blankets/towels/plus all the kitchen and bathroom stuff.   He seems to have plenty of clothes (some of which i carried out to the trailer).   Me?  I think he intimidated me right after I packed my “daytime” clothes – so I don’t have rodeo/go out to dinner clothes.     I will figure this out!

So we took off near the end of January.  Traveling with a puppy that still gets sick in the car makes it a little more interesting, but after the first couple hours or so of travel, at least she stopped getting sick and actually took a nap!

We went to Grapevine , Texas for about a week, and then we went down to San Antonio, and now we are in Houston.    Farm Girl has some rodeo clients that were in rodeos in both places – so we’ve been going to some rodeos, taking in the sunshine, and learning how to live in a small space!

I’ll try to be better about blogging our adventures…..

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Two Big Things Happened to Us in October.

October was a crazy month at our house — and would have probably been worthy of many blogs if I had taken the time to write them.   But I didn’t, so here we are!    Two big things happened, here’s the first.

As we approached Misty’s 14th birthday  – we decided (well, to be honest — I decided and Mike didn’t argue) that it was time to add a puppy to the family.    I’ve been on a waiting list at the breeder where we got Misty for a while, but our name has not gotten to the top of the list.    I was sitting in the house on Columbus Day weekend and something made me do a search for Sheltie puppies in Iowa.    There were two available in Des Moines, so after checking out the breeder with my friend Laura — we headed to Des Moines to meet the two puppies.    They couldn’t have been more different.   They were 4 days apart in age — and one was petite and precocious and the other one was a little bigger and more shy.

After sitting for an hour petting both of them. we brought Luci home.    She’s a bi-black sheltie (just black and white) and her face is nearly completely black.    We probably should have named her Bear.   Curious about whether we took petite & adventurous or a little bigger and shy?   We took the quiet one.    However – since 3 days after we brought her home — she hasn’t been quiet or shy.    She’s a handful!

After we brought her home, we both decided we were much younger the last time we had a puppy!  Making a trip outside every 20 minutes, (sometimes every 5 minutes), housetraining a puppy – and puppy proofing the house has been quite the challenge!   I

We wondered how Misty would adjust to a new puppy — and I have to say it’s been smoother than I thought.   That doesn’t mean they’re best friends.    Misty thinks the puppy is fine — as long as she’s not sitting in one of Misty’s “spots” – regardless of whether Misty is sitting there.   She’s a little more willing to share her spot on the quilts in front of the fireplace than her spot on Becky’s chair, her spot on the couch, or her spot on the ottoman.   However, Misty has been cool with the puppy sleeping with her on the couch or in the bed, like us — she’s a lot more tolerant when she’s asleep!

Stay tuned, for the other big event that happened to us in October!    An only child’s journey continues…….

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Do you talk horse?

I’m a bit behind in blogging — so I still have blogs to write about our adventures purchasing a camper — but this story happened this weekend — and I wanted to blog it before I forget!    I truly thought that after we finally decided what we wanted, and purchased it that the hard part was over.    Little did I know that the stress was about to start.  We drove the camper to a campground near our house — and we had to back it into a space.   Mike did great — but apparently I totally flunked at giving him signals.   I was feeling bad about this until I talked with a friend and she said that some of the biggest fights she had with her husband – were when they were parking the camper.  What I learned in that process is that the kind of directions I gave my Dad don’t work with Mike.   Even my hand signals are uninterpretable (according to him)!     Mike drove Army trucks when he was in the reserves – and those are the hand signals he expects.    I do not know Army hand signals.

We brought the camper out to a nice little lake, and we weren’t as early as we wanted to be. We pulled into a spot — and unhooked — and the auto-levelers just couldn’t quite get it right.   So we had to hook it up — get some boards out and try again.

The plan was to pull the camper forward about 18 inches to get it on the boards on one side — then we’d unhook and start over.   So I get properly positioned where I can watch and signal Mike at the correct time when he has moved forward 18 inches — and he gets in the truck to move forward.    He starts moving forward, and I since I always flunk hand signals I yelled WHOA (which sounds like ho when it comes out of my midwestern mouth).  He stopped.

I walked over to the window of the truck — and he says  – is “Ho” (rhymes with slow) “farm talk” for stop?   I said no — Ho is horse talk.   It’s clearly slang — and you don’t say W-ho-ah like it looks.   When you talk horse it comes out ho!  Then Mike said he had never heard anyone say “ho” instead of “stop”.  Sometimes I think he doesn’t get out much!   

We had a friend over that night for hot dogs and campfire time – and Mike told this story — thinking he’d get someone else to agree with him and he’d be able to tease me even more — and our friend just laughed – and said ho meant stop in “horse”!    That’s just one of the entertaining things that has happened this summer as I am learning to camp!

An only child’s journey continues….

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I’m downright giddy and it’s all due to TRASH!

Yep — I’m giddy — and I’m excited about it.    I’ve learned to recognize “giddy” the past couple of weeks — because Mike finally got all the pieces together to be able to submit his retirement — and he’s been dancing and smiling around the house like, well, I don’t even know how to describe it. He’s just all bouncy.     Mike’s retirement estimate showed his monthly payments would be significantly more if he “bought back” the time he spent in the military and let’s just say it was a process!     

what it looks like when you empty the contents of a closet onto the floor! However, that’s not what’s got me giddy today.  I’ve been working on cleaning my office this week, because I got sick of the piles of stuff on my desk (and I need to be able to ask Mike to clean up his office and that’s hard when mine is at “enter at your own risk”.    I started by emptying the closet.    That part made me feel like a hoarder.    I did find a lot of things I’d lost (like the retirement cards I bought for 3 people who retired almost a year before I did……I might just send them and surprise those people!!).  There were at least 6 empty ipad/iphone boxes,  lots of chargers and cords, and some random power cords that I can’t identify.

In the process of cleaning and reorganizing, I came across a few things from my career at the Veterans Health Administration.     Certificates, Awards, and all the paperwork from the training events I’d been a part of.     This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to clean my office since I retired.    I’ve shredded or thrown out copies of performance reviews, swag from conferences, and trash cans full of stuff — but I just couldn’t go that last step.    It wasn’t the certificates and awards.    I’ve shredded or thrown out everything except my Project Management Certifications and I kept them just in case I need to go back to work.    The part that was hard, was all the paperwork involved with those training events.   Copies of to-do lists, schedules, the never-ending spreadsheets from our face-to-face events, budgets, and all my notes from the development of our virtual training campus.    I guess I kept thinking that someone would call, that someone would want that corporate knowledge.

It’s a trash can with the last of my files from pre-retirement.

Please don’t misunderstand.   I love my retirement, I love having my own company and I’m doing well.    However, when you leave something you did for that many years, it’s hard to face that with a snap of your fingers, (or the clock striking midnight on retirement day)  that the organization you thought you made a difference for will go on without you.   I don’t cry about it, I don’t even think about it much — it’s just something that needs to be dealt with.

One of my friends told me when I retired that I was retiring from VA, not retiring from life and that’s the best advice anyone gave me.    However, I hadn’t taken the last steps in that retirement — throwing out all the papers and notes from those years.    I took those steps today — and I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.   I’m giddy!    Maybe even giddy enough to get back to regular blogging!

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June 17

Today is June 17 — and I almost went thru the day without looking at the calendar and thinking about what day it was.  I had been thinking about Fathers Day tomorrow, and how I wished my dad was still here — and then all of a sudden I looked at the calendar.

The date June 17 has always been circled on my family’s calendar.    Mom and Dad got married on June 17, 1952.    They actually got married on my Grampa and Grandma Monroe’s 54th anniversary, on a Tuesday night — just so they could get married on June 17.

Last fall, I was at an auction that had some scrapbooks, and I looked thru them for quite some time.   It was interesting, because it seemed that whoever made those scrapbooks cut out the stories from the newspapers about anyone they knew — and saved the stories in those scrapbooks.   (I meant to buy them — but it was so hot tired and we were stuffing the furniture I bought into the truck — and I missed them).   There was a lot of Tama County and Benton County history in those scrapbooks.

At any rate — I snapped a couple of pictures — and one of them was an article about my grandparents golden anniversary!    I’m glad I was able to look at those scrapbooks – but I really wish I had purchased them so I could read more family history!

An only child’s journey continues….

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Dealing with grief helped me find my tribe…

picture of my parents and me on mothers day 2013This picture came up on my Facebook feed this week, and it made me step back and think about things.   My life has changed so much in 4 years.   4 years ago on Mother’s day — we were only 3 weeks into my Mothers pancreatic cancer diagnosis.   She had lost a lot of weight and she was trying to deal with a ‘death sentence by cancer’ but she was still my mom.   She was only able to fight cancer for about 3 1/2 months before the cancer was winning.  It was horrible to watch, horrible to live thru, and it’s still painful if I go back and look at my pictures (or my blog) from that summer.    Mom and Dad moved in with me then, and our lives changed.

After Mom died, our focus became taking care of my dad.   We stayed home a lot so he wouldn’t be alone.    We didn’t plan things, because we didn’t want him to be alone.    He was our focus.   We didn’t plan anything — cuz we never knew how he would feel.

In the years I was taking care of my dad – my childhood friend Julie and I reconnected. She was fighting her own battle with cancer.    She was the ultimate Mom and career wise — she was pretty much the opposite of me.    She got married soon after high school, had 5 kids and loved her life in rural Clutier.    I went to college, struggled to find my life’s purpose and eventually landed at the VA, lived in 4 different states,  traveled 20-30 weeks per year and coordinating training around the US and was comfortable speaking in front of thousands of people.    She raised her family, sometimes struggling with health and financial woes, and took a couple of  trips on an airplane.   Our paths were very different, but when we reconnected – we were somehow in the same place.

I lost my dad and my friend Julie in 2016.    To say it was a tough year is an understatement.   I still have nightmares about my Dad’s hospitalization.    Could I have done something different that would have saved him some pain?    After all my blogs about caregiving – did I actually fail when it was time to participate in what turned out to be his final days?   I feel like I did.    It’s been a tough road living with that.

In the last year I worked at the VA we had no budget, and a project that I had poured my heart and soul into was killed.  My job was full of politics and a hater or too.   When that project was killed, I grieved it –actually I’m still grieving it — but I didn’t realize it until recently.    It’s hard when you’ve poured blood, sweat and tears into building a training culture, and you leave with nothing to show for it but memories.

My personal life had changed so much, my work life would changed, and eventually, when it was obvious that I had no passion for the work I was doing — I planned my retirement from VA.     In actuality it wasn’t quite that easy — I had to do paperwork, do math, and make sure that I wouldn’t have to get a job as a WalMart greeter before I could make that decision!  I had promised some people I would keep blogging after my retirement, but my grief has been so overwhelming that I didn’t want to write if it was going to sound like I was whining.

I read a blog this morning entitled 3 things you learn after your mother dies.  The first thing in the blog really touched me.

This is exactly how it’s been with me, starting 4 years ago when Mom died.   I never know when I’ll have a bad day, I never know how it will hit me, but it’s been incredibly exhausting.    When I started Pilates, Carey became much more than a Pilates teacher.    She’s a friend, and it was her idea that I should start Farm Girl Marketing Solutions, my retirement business that has already given me so much more than the cash it brings in.   I started working with a health coach who gives me assignments to work on weekly.   One of the things she’s encouraged me to formalize, is a practice of gratitude.   I write down what I’m grateful for, even if it’s as simple as the sun shining or a flower blooming.   I try to erase the memories of my dad’s hospitalization, by writing down memories of my dad that I’m grateful for.

It was during my gratitude process that I realized I was grateful for my tribe.  What is a tribe? A tribe is a small but powerful group of people.  It’s a fan base, a Bible study, a group of influencers.   A tribe is small enough to feel personal but large enough to make a difference.   A tribe is not usually created out of thin air.   More often than not, tribes are found.  They are existing groups of people formed around very specific interests and passions.

It’s not the same tribe I had 4 years ago.    My tribe of 4 years ago was full of coworkers, not necessarily friends in a world of politics and drama.  (handful of those people are still in my tribe, people I consider true friends).  My tribe of today is an amazing collection of people that believe in living positive, faith filled lives.  My tribe of today has only a couple of people I even knew 4 years ago.   There’s no room for haters, drama or politics in my tribe. My tribe of today is diverse and each person in it makes an amazing contribution to helping me live a positive life.   My tribe has come together because of all the things that I’ve been through in the past 4 years and the one feeling I’ve felt more than any other.   Grief.

An only child’s journey continues…

If you want to read more on why women need tribes, click here.

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Too many feelings and an empty chair!

I just looked back, and I haven’t blogged since August.   Starting a new business keeps me busy — and when I’ve been blogging — I’ve been blogging for the business.    When I retired many people asked me to keep blogging, and I’ve let it slide.   Why?    Cuz sometimes it’s easier not to face the emotions.     Someone walked into my dad’s funeral in February — and said — “now you’re all alone”, then she quickly added an invitation to “join” their family.    Sometimes the all alone feelings hit me more than others, and this past two weeks was one of those times!   The new business has been a blessing, because most days it keeps me much too busy to think about my emotions.

toby_1980Mike and I took our annual trip to the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas.   We went for all 10 nights, and I never dreamed that I’d actually feel more lonesome for my Dad when I was in Las Vegas than I have for months.   He loved hearing about our rodeo adventures, and when we came home from Vegas full of stories, he would always end up telling Mike how he and Mom took me to Cheyenne Frontier Days when I was 10 or so, and we had to cut the trip short because all they heard from me was “I miss Toby”.   As an only child, Toby (my pony) was my my bestie!   We did everything together!

Even getting ready for vacation was different this year.    My friend Dawnell still came to house sit and take care of Misty, but I didn’t have to do a meal plan for my Dad, or get his medications ready.     During the rodeo they always have one of those “in memorium” presentations — and after losing my dad and my friend Julie this year, the moments were particularly poignant.    At the end of the music video — they released smoke (clouds) into the arena and some horses came into the arena.  I totally lost it.  I was sitting with friends that night, and i was right beside two people that i had met when I sat down for the rodeo — so I’m sure they were watching me wipe the tears off my face and wondering what was wrong with me!

In past years, we head to the rodeo about 5, and then hang out till the rodeo starts, and I always called my Dad to check in about 6pm Vegas time, that was just a while before his bed time in Iowa.    Little did I realize before I left for the rodeo, how much I would miss those phone calls.   I was sitting at the bar one night with Mike, and the tears started rolling down my cheeks.

img_4884Yesterday, coming home from the rodeo – it all started again.  My dad wasn’t at my house when we got home.   We were on our flight to Cedar Rapids, and I was trying to sleep, but all I could think about was my Dad’s empty chair.  (We’ve moved it around — but it doesn’t help.   It’s still empty).  Who knew that 10 months (to the day) after my Dad passed away — the grief would come back so strong.    Worse — I can still hear those awful words he said when he was in so much pain in the hospital.   They play over and over in my head.   I read an article yesterday whose first point was “be prepared for intense emotions.”     I’m trying.   Meanwhile, the days are pretty long right now.

An only child’s journey continues……




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