Good Friday.

Today, I played at church; it was the first time I'd played in public for many months. 

It was good for the soul. But horrible for the pain in my hands. I think it's the osteoarthritis. And the fact I haven't played in a long time. But overall, I'm glad I played. I do think I have to get to the hand doctor, because I don't think it should hurt this much, physically. 

Two others contributed their musical skills on harp and on piano. Both sublime. Particularly enjoyed a piece by Chopin. And of course, you can never go wrong with Satie or Debussy! Why did I stop piano lessons all those years ago? Never mind. I love listening to piano music.

I'm not as down as I've been lately, but yet still very very tired. And a bit numb. No tears today just yet, so maybe that's something. 

This morning, for the first time since November, I had a little vertigo. I have been told that there are several things that can contribute to a "flare-up" of this: caffeine is one; and I've had a lot of it lately. Another is stress. And yes, my stress level is much higher than usual these days. 

I can take care of the caffeine. Just gotta figure out how to lower the stress. Lots of prayer, I guess, will help. Oddly, work is one of the few things that is not stressing me out. It's just everything else. 

Well, the Spartans play basketball tonight; I'm going to try to watch for awhile but likely will not stay up late enough to see the whole thing. Hoping to take in a baseball game tomorrow afternoon and then perhaps Easter vigil tomorrow night. It's a magical service. I'll have to write about it later.

In the meantime, I think I'll wrap this up and get in my PJs. 

Wash feet. Eat. Drink. Beagle. Woman.

Today, I kept myself very busy at work preparing for my end-of-the-month busy-ness that happens with my job. I put my headphones on, play music, and get going. Helps keep my mind off things. I think the thing I like best about my job is the amount of puzzle-solving I must do in my various processes. All those Dell puzzle books were very useful through the years!

Right now, I'm sitting on my bed in my pjs watching my brackets fall further into the toilet, as my trusty beagle is nearly asleep and glued to my side.

I took advantage, once again, of the campus meal plan; tonight's choice was Brody Square. I had the pasta, which is prepared on the spot. Definitely not the dorm food we had in the late 1970s, early 1980s!

For dessert, I had a homemade chocolate chip cookie; the campus bakery, I believe, is in that building because there are a lot more pastries there than the other locations.

When I was in college, Brody was considered the "largest non-military cafeteria in the world." I don't know about now, but it's still huge. Believe it or not, I was able to find a spot near the window that afforded a little more quiet.

Tonight, I went to the Maundy Thursday service. This night commemorates the Last Supper, which also included foot washing as Christ and his disciples did. My friend Val and I teamed up and took turns washing each other's feet. I was rather clumsy about it, but Val attended to my feet with such tenderness that it caused a catch in my throat and a tear in my eye. A lovely and caring woman.

These people here at All Saints...they take excellent care of each other. I feel cared-for and loved, which is something desperately needed, particularly in the last week or so as the grief and difficulties I encounter seem to be overwhelming. They take ministry seriously! My wonderful All Saints family.

Actually, I continue to be amazed at all the outpouring from many many people. The cards that still come. The genuine offers of help. The prayers. The support. And the amazing patience people have as I muddle through this horrible stuff.

I saw a quote today from Eleanor Roosevelt (actually, she said a lot of cool things!) that really helped me today:

You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, "I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along." We must do that which we think we cannot.

Well stated, Mrs. Roosevelt.

Next week, I am, once again, going to utilize the employee assistance program. While the widowed persons group really helps (and I'll continue to go!), I think I'm overdue to have some one-on-one time with a listening and impartial ear.

Well, I think I'm running out of things to say for now, so I'll close up now. Tomorrow, I play my violin in public for the first time (at least by myself) in public in many months. I'm a little scared about that and hope my hands, arms, and back hold out.

Shalom.

The moon is lovely this morning...

A quick break in my work for this post. I can't let another moment pass before saying that if you have clear skies this morning, I hope you got a glimpse of the moon. It was spectacular.

If you didn't--and even if you did, take a look at this spectacular moonrise captured in real time in New Zealand two months ago...So lovely. So amazing.

http://vimeo.com/58385453

Thank you, God. Thank you for reminding me you're there with me always, even when I seem to be lodged for a time in the darkest places of my soul.

Tears and Anger: God, please help me!

I find myself going between anger and tears today. I won't go into it any more than just to acknowledge my frame of mind today. Even the Tuesday-of-Holy Week service tonight really didn't help. Well, it did. Sorta. I cried through most of it. Thank goodness for work; it kept me busy so that I only cried once there and only for a short time.

I seem to be stuck right now. I can't seem to get past this. It's during these times I feel so lonely. Poor Elvis. I wept into his body this morning when I woke up. He just sat there with me, and kissed my tears. Good boy.

However, I did receive an answer, of sorts, to my prayer tonight. My prayer was a four-word one. It was "Help me, God. Please."

I'm a little calmer right now than I was--because of that answer to prayer, I think.

For several months, I've been using the Forward Day-by-Day devotional that we get at church. But I stopped looking at them in January, unfortunately. While I was waiting for tonight's service to begin, I opened up my copy, and it opened to the March 23rd entry (and from reading my past entries, you know the significance of that date) without me happening to actually "look" for a date.

That day's Gospel, John 11:28-44 (http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=231345145) centers around the shortest verse--35--in the Bible. Yet it says so much. In the King James version, it's simply: "Jesus wept." Jesus grieved, just as I grieve. He knows my sorrow. It was a major component of the message at John's funeral, and now I'm reminded of it again. I'd like to share the entry in the devotional guide--or at least a portion of it, written so eloquently by the Rev Dr Gil Stafford:

People come to my office on a regular basis with life troubles, as I am a priest. Often tears are shed. Almost without fail, the weeping person apologizes for their tears. It is a grace-filled blessing to reassure them Jesus wept tears of compassion and grief. Tears are healing.

I've apologized for tears; countless times, now. And each time, the person on the receiving end says something similar to healing tears and letting it go, etc.

The devotion goes on to say:

Many tears are shed during Holy Week, tears of grief, broken dreams, forgiveness, and thankfulness. Our tears can be shed freely in the knowledge that Jesus weeps with us. Jesus weeps in compassion and in the genuine honesty of being in solidarity with us in our most fragile and tender moments. For Jesus has understood and felt our grief, our pain. That knowledge is comforting and can heal our hearts, our souls, and our spirits. Do not be afraid to cry. It can be healing. 

Further, as I was typing this, another Bible verse came into my heart, from Deuteronomy 31:8:

It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.

I just have to keep remembering that, because though I feel a little more peaceful this evening, I am so incredibly lonely. John was always there to comfort me. No matter what. I miss him so incredibly much. The somberness of the season doesn't help, nor does the succession of cloudy, cold days. The calendar says spring. Where is it? Will I ever see spring again?

Of course I will. It just seems so far away from me now. Now, it's time to close this and perhaps cry some more, hugging Elvis tight.

I'm praying for a better day tomorrow.

Ah. I am listening to a movie soundtrack collection right now, and I'm hearing the choral version of the Lord's Prayer that was used for the movie, King of Kings (the remake from the 1960s). I'll post two links: the actual movie, and then a lovely choral presentation. It is the latter I heard.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZXF-FKVRWc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=upuskMxjjq4

Such a lovely piece, and a beloved prayer taught to us by Jesus.

My inner diva takes a peek and fiddles a little, too.

Today was a pretty busy day, and for the most part, I like that.

Elvis decided, though, that I didn't have to be on time EVERY morning, and took his sweet time choosing just the right spot to perform his morning, uh, duties. In actuality, I wasn't late, but I cut it pretty close. I don't blame him for milking every moment he can with me. I miss him during the day, too. I thinking it would be pretty wonderful to find some sort of employment after I retire from MSU that would allow me to keep Elvis with me.

I had the usual activities at work today--and in the afternoon, we had a staff meeting of all of the departments in HR. We have these meetings every three months, and lately, each meeting has some sort of fun presentation of what an individual department does. Today was ours. Lots of funny photos and the soundtrack provided by...me. First time I've sung anything at length since John got sick, and it was kinda fun! I did a sort of diva version of myself.

But hey, if you think this production will ever see the light of day (or the internet) after today's meeting, you have another thing coming. But...it was fun to record and fun to see the finished and creative result.

I had an eye appointment just after I got back from spring vacation, and I learned--not to my surprise--that I needed new glasses. So grateful for vision insurance! We had some through John's office, and now I have some (new to the University) for me. So, today the glasses came in and I'm getting used to them this evening. It'd been over a year since my last exam (actually, I think it was just before John got sick), so I was overdue. They're actually cute glasses--a metallic purple with a little bit of bling on the bows. I'm wearing them in the photo above, but with the special effects in the photo, it's hard to tell they are new.

After spending time with Elvis, I headed back out with my fiddle to try out some things for Friday's Good Friday service. My hands hurt a lot, partially because I haven't played much in a long while, and partially because the arthritis is acting up lately in both of my hands and back. But I managed.

During a good share of Holy Week, there's a cloth labyrinth to use for mediation and prayer. I walked it tonight after my little practice session...lit a candle for John...and then attended the evening service. There's one every night during Holy Week in recent years, and I always look forward to them.

I'm pretty tired tonight, so after I post this, I'm headed to bed. Elvis is giving me lots of kisses right now and it's pretty distracting. He just loves our little rituals of play and cuddling. What a sweet boy.

I noticed recently that because of the switch in food and because I've been trying bottled water for him, that Elvis no longer has tear stains on his face. Yay! Such a handsome boy--hated to see those on his gorgeous face.

Well, Elvis and I bid you a nice evening.

Amour and Palms

Today is Palm Sunday. It is also called Passion Sunday.

We came in with Palms today, waving them as we sang "All glory, laud, and honor...to Thee, Redeemer King...to whom the lips of children make sweet hosannahs ring..." and proceeded gradually to the reading of the Passion according to Luke. And like our preacher today, I, too, always feel uncomfortable being in the "crowd" of the congregation shouting "Crucify him!"

After communion, I went to the healing prayer station and was prayed over. It made me cry, but in a good way, I guess. I was reminded that I am never alone, even though sometimes it feels that way.

And so we proceed into Holy Week.

After church, I decided to check out a local movie theater. They have a film festival series and it was an opportunity for me to see Amour, this year's Oscar winner for best foreign film. I knew it was a serious movie, and I went in there knowing a little bit about the plot. And yet, silly me, I went anyway because I wanted to see this film everyone's been raving about. The two lead actors--Oscar-nominated Emmanuelle Riva and Jean-Louis Trintignant (just WHY wasn't he nominated?) were mesmerizing in their roles as two retired music teachers in a long and loving marriage. A wonderful movie. One I shouldn't have seen...just yet. WAY too close to home. I won't say more about this movie except to say it's worth seeing...if you haven't had something happen to you recently as I have. I left the theatre crying for a second time today. But...it actually felt healing. I had a love like the one they had in the movie. Yeah, I handled a few things differently, but still..

Today, I did something I thought I wouldn't do for awhile, but I felt it was time. I changed my official Facebook status to "widowed." I felt sad about it but know this: I will always have John in my heart, and because of that, I still feel married. Yeah. I can say it now. I am a widow. Not by choice, certainly. 

And this evening, I've treated myself to the movie version of Jesus Christ Superstar on Netflix. A nice way to bookend the day. Hosanna, Hey Sanna.

One song that always runs through my head on this day every year is Jean-Paul Faure's "The Palms." Lots of wonderful versions of that on YouTube. I suggest the Enrico Caruso and Nelson Eddy versions for nostalgia and the Crystal Cathedral one for big and bombastic. Then listen to Jessye Norman sing "Holy City." Lovely.

Tomorrow begins a new work-week. I'm confident--or maybe at least hopeful--that I will keep this peaceful status for awhile. And if I'm going to have a meltdown, let it be at home in the shower or something. 

Actually laughed at that last line I typed.

Have a blessed Holy Week/Passover!

Mom

Today is the eleventh anniversary since we said goodbye to Delight Hicks, my mom. And for the most part, I've been able to distract myself. But now, I'm exhausted--something I've felt most of the time these days. In fact, it'll be an early night for me. 

And with love and fond memories and appreciation for all that she was--and she wasn't perfect (who is?), I type this entry. She was a wonderful mom. 

This photo was taken in the late 1940s or early 1950s--sometime before Curt was born and while Dad was in school with the Air Force. It was common to get glamour shots taken to send to your loved one; my aunt had a similar one taken around the same time to send to her husband. 

I've seen the letters they exchanged (mostly Dad's, as that's mostly what was left); two people who had no inkling of what their life would bring...no children yet, talking about mundane things, but yet talking of deep love. Amazing love. And three kids later, I can say that we came here because two people fell in love.

Thank you, Mom, for helping me to be the person I am today. I miss you, and Dad, and Curt. 

And John. 

Take care of him, will you? And don't be too far away from me, either.

Let it Be

My head is always full of song. You might say it's a soundtrack to my life. Or at least that's what it has turned out to be in the last 16 months. Even if I still don't have a great desire to make music right now. Listening is just fine. Healing balm. Anyway...this soundtrack of my life: At different times, different songs come to mind.

It's funny; for most of my adult life (and some of my youth), I have had a good memory for songs and where I've heard them before...and mostly, it's related to plays and movies. Used to drive John crazy. But in a good way. We'd be somewhere--the car, a store, anywhere music was playing--and I'd hear a piece. I'd say, "Oh! That song was in such-and-such movie, and it was at the place where such-and-such action took place!" He'd say, "How do you DO that???"

I still have that, but more often these days, it's soundtracks to my actual life. Songs John loved. Songs I love. Songs that fit for situations.

For the last two or three days, it's been this song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GcZ8Gz0rDtw

Let it Be.

I've looked up the lyrics and I notice that Paul, in the youtube video, added the following: "there will be no sorrow." Yeah. I'll always have sorrow for the people I've lost. John. My brother. My parents. But I don't have to carry it alone. Just let it be. Let go and let God.

And it's put me in a very peaceful place. There are a lot of things better about the place I'm in today compared to the past few days. Lots of prayer got me here. And this song reminded me to let it be. All the worries. John's love lives on, and I know it. And tonight I'm smiling at that thought.

As I was thinking about the title, it lead me to a similarly-titled song--May it Be, sung by Enya and used for one of the Lord of the Rings movies. Love the lyrics. Following is a video of this song, with the lyrics. See if you agree with me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I97_x79hWA0

More tomorrow, perhaps, as I remember my mother on a most difficult anniversary.

But for now, there is peace. Let it be. May it be. Glory be to God!

Amen.

Have I Lost My Way?

It's been a rough week, but is starting to get a bit more...peaceful.

In sorting out various personal affairs, I had some encounters with "customer service" this week that would upset anyone. Add to that a partial inability to keep from crying, along with a "I won't take this from anyone" attitude, and it pretty much describes my Monday this week. As you can see from my previous post, I was probably headed for a melt-down anyway.

Early on in the cancer journey with John, someone wisely told me that when things are so overwhelming, sometimes it's easier if you let other people do the praying for you--when your strength is gone and feel like giving up, let someone...or lots of people...step in.

When I was at my absolute lowest with these people who had no compassion in their dealings with me over the phone, a friend stepped over to me and prayed over me. Instantly, I felt a surge of peace surround me, as if God's arms were gathered around me. I know they always are, but I was acutely aware of it after this prayer. And in the remaining business I had to do with these folks, suddenly everyone became more friendly and helpful. No coincidence, I think.

I had moments during that evening, still...but none of the feelings of utter uselessness that tried to take over. The prayer had beaten that back. To end my evening, a friend called me just to chat, and I got out a good cry on a more-than-willing shoulder and ended up having one of the most peaceful sleeps I've had in ages because of it. And I'm still here on the other side of all of that, and though I'm still feeling quite sad right now, it's not the desperate "darkest night of my soul" type of feeling. Much more...manageable, if that makes sense.

What's added to that I feel that people may be tiring of me and it's become much more "quiet" in my life. People are still there for me, but I just feel like maybe I'm being too...needy. It's not intentional if I am...I'm just trying to navigate across uncharted waters right now, a boat without my main oar.

Anyway, I apologize to anyone that I may have offended along the way. Maybe it's my imagination, though...I just know those nagging lonelies are my constant companion even when there are a lot of people around.

And I am so tired. I try to go to bed early but even that doesn't always help. Grief is exhausting.

I've found some things to occupy my time lately; I'm in a book group discussion (as I mentioned in my last post); I'm sad that's over with for now (because of the upcoming Holy Week).

I also purchased at a deep discount 11 meals for the price of 10 at the residence halls.

Now, I need to mention that the food at today's residence halls is not the same as the stereotypical cafeteria food of my college days. On campus folks need to compete now with off campus options more than ever, so many cafeterias have upgraded to cater to the students and are offering these very attractive plans to faculty and staff of MSU, too. I can't eat at home for the low price they're offering. The only problem with the ones I've been to thus far is the noise level, though the newest one I've been to seems to have taken some measures to deal with the sound, as it's not nearly as bad. Many times, I bring my laptop or nook to dinner with me and put my headphones on to listen to music or movies to block out the noise, so it's not too bad. I did think I'd be one of the only non-students eating in these places. Not true. Well done, MSU!

I've not been too interested in performing lately; I thought I'd "find" it again at some point but not just yet, particularly with singing. I do have a couple of things coming up for violin, though, that feel like "safe" places to start playing.

First of all, I'll be playing for a portion of the daytime Good Friday service this year. Appropriately somber stuff in a minor key or something close to minor (sometimes I like to get all "mode-y;" you music majors will get that), so my plan is to do some improvisational stuff and throw in some of the Holy Week plainchant stuff on the violin for good measure. I've done that before, and it seemed to work out well and actually felt pretty prayerful for me. A good way to get started, much more manageable than jumping into a group thing at the moment.

The other opportunity just came up in the last 24 hours; I've been asked to portray the Fiddler again. I've played that part many many times over the years in both amateur and professional productions. A friend is directing it for summer stock this year--and it seems fitting that not only have I played the part under his direction before...but he was also in the cast for the first production I was ever in! It feels safe, it feels familiar, and as much as I can say it musically these days, it feels like home. So, when I realized that my schedule would permit this activity, I said yes.

A fiddler on the roof, again? Sounds crazy, no?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Shalom.

Like 2002.

Today is St Patrick's Day. Everyone's Irish. Even those that aren't Irish are Irish. One drive through a college campus--even when March 17th falls on a Sunday--tells you. There's even more green on MSU's campus  than the typical Spartan apparel.

Among other things, I am part Irish through my mother's side. But this day holds no celebration for me. Not since 2002. It is a big deal, though, that I have a green turtleneck on. I really haven't bothered with honoring it for 11 years.

You see, on March 17, 2002, I stood in the emergency ward. And little did I know that it was the last day my mother ever spoke to me. Her last words--like John's--were that she loved me. I left for a little bit to check on Dad, who was sitting at the nursing home--where they both lived--wondering what had happened to Mom. So I went to reassure him. But when I got back to the hospital, all hell had literally broken loose. No details here, just suffice to say that Mom drifted into a coma and never awoke again. She lingered on, though, for a week, passing on March 23.

And each March, I remember. I've tried to forget that time, preferring to remember her birthday--May 30--instead. But March is still very rough every year. This year, more than ever. Part of it is because of my recent loss. Part of it is something that I just remember a few days ago.

In 2002, March 17th was on a Sunday. March 23rd was a Saturday. March 23rd was also the day before Palm Sunday. And I remember that following Good Friday (the day after we buried Mom at Ft Custer) was a very dark day for me. But out of the midst of that, I had an earthy angel, something that happens quite often these days, but still continues to amaze me.

I went alone to the usual Good Friday service that evening. There, in the middle of the aisle, stood a simple, rugged wooden cross. We are encouraged to go to this cross with our prayers and supplications. So I did.

I still remember that prayer. I had never felt so alone in my life. I had spent the last few years helping to care for my parents, and now Mom was gone. What was I going to do? I felt so alone.

When I sat down--by myself, again--I just sat there, staring at the cross. Soon, I felt someone's arm go around my shoulder. I didn't look to see who it was; I didn't want to .Not at first. To this day, I do not know who it was, but I felt great comfort and the beginning of an answer to prayer.

I mentioned that I felt so alone. Little did I know. In the last few days--even with all the wonderful people around me, I feel so very alone. The loneliness invades my sleep. It occupies the spaces where other thoughts are pushed aside.

I know God is with me, but I just feel so empty right now. Numb. I can't even cry right now, though I assure you, I have a lot these days.

And...if it's the same days of the week for Mom's death anniversary, then it will be Dad's, too, this coming August .What a horrible thing that all of these are on the same days on the same year of John's death!

I think it's true that suffering a loss like this makes the other ones stand out, too. So I'll need a gentleness this month, along with the other anniversaries I'll be encountering.

I was going to avoid the Widowed Persons Group today, but I think I need to go...even if it's to listen. Other than what I've typed here, I just don't feel like talking. I just feel sad, exhausted, and alone.

And no, this isn't meant to be a pity-party for me. I know I'm really NOT alone, as I said. It just feels like it. It's sorta like what we talked about in my book group at church. I'm reading the book Silence by Shusaku Endo. We talked about the silences. And these days, I get it. Prayers met with silence. I know He's listening. It just doesn't feel like it right now. God always has one of three answers to prayer: Yes, No, and Not Yet. Maybe we're in the Not Yet phase.

In the meantime, I'm waiting in the silence.

Almost heaven....

A week ago, I travelled south to Myrtle Beach, SC on a last-minute road trip/vacation.

I don't think I'll get into a great deal of detail on the trip; just some impressions and thoughts and a few things I did.

I was a passenger on the trip, which gave me great opportunity to rest and enjoy the view. Well, all of the view except for...Ohio. No offense to you native Ohioans out there, but at least on the route we took, it's boring. Flat lands, not much to see other than that....and we were in Ohio a long time. I know there are much more interesting parts of Ohio (the eastern and southern parts, for sure), but for goodness sakes! I know in past trips I've taken with friends and family through that state, we've always had friendly arguments as to who gets to be the driver and who gets to sleep through that leg of the journey. Only...it's so long, everyone usually gets to drive part of it.

We hit the road at around 5AM, so not long after we were on our way, I snoozed.

Only to be awakened in...Ohio.

But it was for a good reason, actually. You see, friends of mine were also on a road trip--theirs was an  annual alternative spring break trip--the students and chaplain for Canterbury MSU and their  counterparts from University Lutheran Church and their campus ministry. This year, they went to New York City to do some volunteer work. They do great things; several years since Katrina, they have gone down there to help. They've gone to New York at least one other time that I remember, and also one year to Jamaica.

Anyway, we were a little bit into Ohio when one of my traveling companions said, "Hey, isn't that a bus from your church?"

Sure enough, it was. So I rolled down my window and shouted and laughed and ended up calling the chaplain, Sarah. I was afraid she might not recognize me, as we had a rental  (a Dodge Journey) with Illinois license plates on it. Turns out we met up about the place we would be parting ways on the highway--the Episcopalians and Lutherans to I-80, while we continued south for awhile further. What fun! From what I've heard, they had a great time and wonderful experience there in NYC.

Our route took us through Ohio (did I mention Ohio is long?), West Virginia, Virginia, North Carolina, and finally, South Carolina. When we left Michigan, there was a little bit of snow on the ground but nothing coming out of the sky. It stayed that way, pretty much, through Ohio; however, when we hit West Virginia and the Blue Ridge Mountains, we had a LOT of snow--sometimes bordering on a white-out. Pretty for the passengers, a bit scary for the drivers, I think.

At about 8 PM, we arrived at our hotel in Myrtle Beach. We stayed in The Breakers--our building was called the North Boutique Tower. There are time-shares to be purchased there, but surprisingly, they didn't bother us too much with that stuff. Unfortunately, it was dark by that time, so we really couldn't see much of the Atlantic that night. After some food at a local place called the Tiki Room, we headed back to our hotel for the night.

In the mid-80s, John and his parents lived in Myrtle Beach. Or so I thought. I looked at John's discharge papers from the Air Force, and they actually lived in North Myrtle Beach, which is a few miles north of where we were. I was thinking that if the house his parents owned had been in Myrtle Beach proper, it probably would be gone by now. The beach is, in my opinion, over-developed. Most of the hotels were there back in the mid 1980s. I notice that there are a few on Ocean Blvd that probably were there back then, but the tall newer buildings block the view. It's very difficult, by the way, to see the ocean except in little spirts here and there and then down at the city pier. Otherwise, you have to walk to the beach or stay in one of the hotels. It's really sad, I think. I'm so used to a good deal of the Great Lakes having spacious and lovely views. I should have really realized this, about Myrtle Beach, because John said it was starting to get that way even when he lived there.

We stayed in a suite. Two bedrooms, a dining room, a kitchen, washer, dryer, and three balconies. All of these were "oceanside." And we were not disappointed.

On the first morning (and for me, every morning of my stay), I set the alarm for just before sunrise so that I could see it on the ocean. And it was magnificent! Especially that first morning. I'll try to share some photos when I get my PC set up at home again. I haven't had a chance or desire, really, to set it back up just yet. Days were spent either watching baseball or watching the water at the beach--with a few walks along the shore from time to time.

I'll say it here right now: If I lived on or near a beach, I'd be in better shape than I am now.

Something about walking in the sand, with the sound of the waves and the feel of the wind--even the brisk gale we had for about 24 hours--is so healing. I could have walked forever, if it weren't for my physical limitations. About halfway through my stay, my legs and back started to ache from exercise I really hadn't had in a long time. Yes, I've gone back to the gym, but walking on a treadmill doesn't compare to the beach.

Other times, I sat on the balcony overlooking the beach--each day except for when the winds were so forceful. I even got a bit of a sunburn on my nose and cheeks. Apparently, I didn't put enough lotion in those spots.

Night life is interesting there in Myrtle Beach. Most of the week, it was quite quiet. The Hard Rock Cafe I visited was almost empty, something I'd never seen in a place like that before. Interesting shops--most were in a couple of shopping areas a couple of miles from the beach.

One place near our lodgings was a Ben and Jerry's; I'd never been to one before. John often mentioned the original one he frequented in Burlington, so I was curious--and who can turn down ice cream? So, one afternoon, I walked down to their location and enjoyed some sorbet; returned a couple nights later with my companions to pick up a pizza (the ice cream shop shared space with a local pizzeria); this time, I had a smoothie.

As soon as my adventure began, it seems, it had to end; so, we packed up and headed back by way of the mountains. And soon, I was picking up my beagle. And hugging him. And crying.

You see, I was dealing with a lot of feelings while on the trip; some anger, some joy, but mostly...I missed John. Terribly. I knew that at some point, John had walked that same shore, and it gave me some comfort amid the tears. I even drew a heart with his name within it just at the point where the waves would wash it away at high tide. The heart may have faded, but my heart hasn't. John is still there.

Birthday adventure; a new hurtle passed.

The first major event I was dreading after John's death was not Valentine's Day (see my Valentine's post). It was my birthday. And I wanted to get out of town, to just get away.

An idea hatched in my brain.

Friends of mine who have kept in touch almost weekly with phone calls and cards during this journey wanted me to visit them sometime. So, I called and ask if my birthday weekend would be a good time to come to Chicago to see them. So I said I'd try to figure out a plan and get back to them.

But there was one problem...the weather reports were predicting a winter storm around the time I would be traveling there. It should be noted that Elvis was invited, too, as these friends have two wonderful dogs, themselves. One beagle, and one honorary  beagle.

So, I decided to make it a train trip to Chicago and boarded Elvis at Dr. Lisa's, where he was thoroughly spoiled and (at my request, of course) micro chipped, something we'd meant to do since finding out his escape tendencies. So...fear not. Elvis is micro chipped and registered.

As promised by the weather folks here in Lansing, Friday turned out to be quite a snowy and slippery day, and all local schools were cancelled. I was prepared and got up extra early to get us both ready for our destinations. So, at around 6:30 AM, we left the house for Dr. Lisa's place. We waited out in the car until a little after 7am, when the staff arrived. After I got Elvis all situated, I headed directly for the train station, which is about a block from my office.

Here's where I tell you that I upgraded to business class both directions. It's only a few more dollars more than the coach class, but to me, it was worth it. Much more roomy, fairly quiet, and each seat pops out like a lazy-boy. And I had no one beside me, which was good for some quiet travel. My only glitch on the way to Chicago as far as the actual seating arrangements  was a woman who boarded in Kalamazoo who sat in front of me and who decided everyone needed to hear what she was talking about with someone on her cell phone. I was able to pretty much ignore it, thanks to my noise-cancelling headphones.

We ended up running about 2 hours late, though, due to a false alarm with the engine computer. Most of that two hours was spent sitting in Dowagiac...it was around this time that I had an encounter with the aforementioned woman.

I had to make a call to my friends in Chicago to let them know a revised pick-up time. It didn't bother me, actually, because just sitting on a train is an adventure. I wanted something different for my birthday weekend to help keep me occupied, and I was getting it. This ended up with about three or four revised time calls. And...guess what? The woman ahead of me didn't like it and shushed me. I ended the call and said something like, "I am sorry if I was too loud, but I did have to listen to your call for over a half-hour." Or something like that. And she apologized and was quiet for the rest of the trip.

But so was I. I am so glad she couldn't see me, because I was crying. About as hard as you can cry without making a noticeable sound. I was feeling a little fragile on the way there...traveling to a city that John loved as much as I do...alone. First time traveling anywhere further than my brother's by myself since John was diagnosed in November, 2011. Thinking that John would have protected me, would have said something. I'm glad I at least managed to say something and without crying while I said it, to boot.

So, I arrived in Chicago. Wishing my friends carried a cell, I realized there was no longer an obvious place to meet people there at Union Station. So, even though the voice in my head--Dad's--was saying, "Stand still, they'll find you," I wandered from place to place for about 45 minutes or so. And I was frightened. My friends should not take offense to this or think they did anything wrong; like me, they didn't know that the old waiting place really doesn't exist anymore. I mean, it does...but it's not obvious like it was the last time I took a train to Chicago. That was in the late 1980s when I took a trip with Mom and Curt's then-wife and mother-in-law to see Phantom of the Opera. Anyway...

I figured I would look around a bit more. And I tried their cell (they have one, they just don't use it much). Was tempted to leave a message with pathetic crying on it (fake, not real) but decided not to. And then I had a brilliant idea...what is that great hall? Let's check that out. It almost looks like the place that used to be for waiting. And the place where scenes from the movie, "Untouchables," were filmed. And sure enough, I head a voice behind me say, "Tam?" I have never been so relieved.

In another one of those wild things that seems to happen to me a lot in the last year and a half...I know several people in Chicago. This particular weekend, I planned on visiting the friends who invited me plus a friend from college, if I could make it happen. I knew he had moved since my last visit, so I asked him how close I would be from where I'd be staying. And in the entire city and suburbia of Chicago--one of the largest cities in the United States--these friends (who didn't know each other) lived THREE BLOCKS APART. Whew!

I have had lots of people ask me if I was going to sight-see. You have to know that I have been to Chicago many times; for years, I had opera tickets to the Lyric, and before that, I had gone on many adventures since childhood, really, since that's where my mother was originally from (the Norwegian American Hospital is where she made her debut!). This time, I just wanted to just hang out, mostly, and visit. VIsiting the art museum (my favorite place in the city) and the aquarium (a place John had been and had wanted to take me to) will come on the next trip, maybe. And my friends really really helped me not only "get through" this birthday, I actually had fun. And was surprised that I did have fun. I had a birthday cake. We went on lots of walks with the dogs. And just enjoyed each other's company. And I decided it was time for my friends to meet each other, so we met at a place called Stella's for my birthday supper. And I think we had a very enjoyable time!

On Sunday, I had originally planned on going to church with my college friend, but the thought of sleeping in sounded better to me. My only regret was that another friend showed up at that church on a visit from Ann Arbor. And I missed seeing her! She was in town to see an opera at the Lyric for *her* birthday (which is about three days after mine).

Sunday afternoon, we went back to Union Station, where (because of business class) I was able to board about 30 minutes early (and first choice of seat!). It was only after I was seated and comfortable that I noticed another wonderful thing: A heart drawn on the window. Coincidence? If so, then thank you, whomever did that, as it made me feel better. I felt like John was with me.

When I got home, it was too late to pick up Elvis, so I had my first night in the house where I was truly alone. It was okay, though, because I was tired I pretty much fell into bed.

And a joyous reunion was awaiting me at Dr Lisa's the next afternoon after work.

This trip was fun...but it would not be the last time there were things I wanted to tell John about but couldn't. Dammit.

Stay tuned for another adventure...where I went quite a bit further away than Chicago.

Tam