Today, tomorrow and many years ago

Today is the 11th of September

it is a big number here in the states.

It leaves me a little unsettled.

I was working at a company that distributed maps when the actual events unfolded 

and for the next year and a half my life was totally changed.

First we got calls from the military 

asking what we were selling and who could buy it.

Then we got calls from the news agencies from all over the world.

Then calls from military families often crying on the phone line asking, 

where these countries

 were that their loved ones were going to.

There were times when we had to call the FBI 

as some calls were requesting very specific kinds of details on maps.

Those were hard and scary.

I know it was best that I walked away from that job when I did.

I was scattered and emotionally spent.

Then in 2006, on this same day
before sunrise, 

and with heavy labored inhales I watched the final breath

 of my beloved grandmother.

She was in her bed, surrounded by family, completely on her own terms.

I had visited and spoken to her two days before.

We just told each other over and over that we loved each other.

It is a beautiful memory above the heartbreak.

This morning, before the sun rose

I got up and shimmed myself into my yoga clothes.

I drove into town for class and watched the sun rise as I 

took deep purposeful breaths with her in my heart.

She died from her lungs filling up...so every time I think of her last moments 

I try and send full complete breathe to her.

I always imagine that would have been the most compassionate thing to give.

A deep breath.

Tomorrow is my nephews birthday, he was born a year later

Life goes on

and on

Mementos of a weekend

Our first Sedar

I made it through! 

We made all the food in time, and was able to stuff the bellies of my parents with yummy food that was different and delicious.

The Barren made it home in time to cook the meat and fire up the BBQ for the fish and bones.

We worked together and made it happen.

My mother was beyond touched that I wanted her to do NOTHING but sit and enjoy a hot meal, 

my father got super emotional stating that he was deeply touched that The Barren embraced the rituals from day one with not an ounce of hesitation or question.

It was an emotional dinner

My table was set with dishes that we only use every once in a blue moon, because I love them so much, and we are like bears in the kitchen and break so many things. The candlesticks belonged to my great grandmother. They remind me of the Minoan snake goddess, and that makes me love them even more.  The tablecloth and napkins belonged to my grandmother, complete with stains from meals past. The matzo cover belonged to The Barrens grandmother, I am pretty sure it was not designed to be a matzo cover, but it is now and I am sure she is happy about it. The crocheted doilies were made by an adopted grandmother in Slovakia, as a wedding gift to us. 

It felt like I was calling all these loved ladies to the table to eat with us.

Have a hot Passover meal, put your feet up and let me spoil you.

This time of year

I decided when my mother asked if we could come over for a last minute holiday dinner that we would host the second night of the holiday at our home. Just the parents and The Barren and myself.

It will be the first time I have done this and frankly, it is exciting and scary and a little sad.

I have spent the last two days planning the meal and making accommodations for food preferences and restrictions and flavors.

I spent a good portion of last night and today going from shop to shop looking for very specific foods and goods, and have found that we do not live in a neighborhood that caters to a wide variety of ethnic goods.

I have brought it all home and put it in the fridge, and checked off all the items of the lists I made.

I am now making a timeline so that I know what to make when and time it all so that I can sit and enjoy the meal with the parents, instead of what my mother usually does which is sit for 30 seconds and then jump up to start the next item....never really engaging in conversation or being present.

All these years I was asked to do the same, so by the time the last member at the table got their dish of food, I was up with my mother/grandmother and readying the next course.

Sitting only for a moment to eat cooled soup.

I am gonna do it different.

I am the next generation, the one that has witnessed this ritual for 40+ years and wondered why gather all these people if you can't sit and talk with them.

I am not adhering to the strictest of the laws, or making sure EVERYTHING is specially made for the holiday. Instead I am making everything from scratch, with love and care and thought.

I think that is the most important part.

While I prepare for this meal and evening, I think about my grandparents and the grandparents before them, I think about the children that are not here to talk to about the holiday and 

why my we makes a big deal out of it. 

I think about how big the table of people use to be and how small it is now.

It is a strange sensation.

I am taking great pride in hosting this and carrying on a generations old tradition, yet, I am also

holding in secret, the sorrow in my heart for those that are not here.

Thankful Thursday

I have been working...in two places and I fear that I am at the stage that I need a push...

I am tired and making lists like there is no tomorrow...when I get overwhelmed I start dropping things...literally and metaphorically. So lists help me feel less chaotic.

I have a hair cut appointment tomorrow in a feeble attempt of self care.

I only get my hairs cut maybe twice a year as I find it to be a decadence, 

one I can often overlook and choose car oil changes instead.

My grandmothers would go weekly, my mother gets her hair person to come to her home monthly 

to color and cut her hair.

I am a low maintenance kinda girl with dreams of being a fancier girl.

Every 6-8 months I go crazy and buy some new makeup that almost always ends up living its life in a bin under the sink because I either try it once and freak out that I have makeup on, or chicken out or forget about it. I keep the makeup next to the hairdryer and curling iron...two other rarely used tools.

I bought red lipstick today...

I read that it subconsciously makes people (including the wearer) believe that you are powerful :

I adore this woman!

I am feeling anxious and nervous about this upcoming exhibition.

I have a comfortable dress, and shoes for standing long periods of time on hard surfaces. 

I have a room that I can crash in after the event it over and I don't have to drive for hours afterwards. 

In the middle of the preparations from afar I am feeling less than confident... 

you know, the whole question your abilities, your drive, your reason...

and so I thought I would try out the red lipstick theory.

It feels comfortable but it is arresting to see crimson on my lips. 

I am wearing it now in fact, in a strange way I think that if I can wear it and forget about it, I can ease into the idea that it is not such a foreign part of me and I can pull it off for opening night.You know?!

I am thankful that I am still a risk taker, even if the risks seem small and silly

Come and Gone

photo via: cc-lovesblog.blogspot

 

 

It passed, almost silently.

No fanfare, no candles, no tears.

Yesterday marked the anniversary of the first of our three losses.

 

I felt it, but quieter this year.

Maybe it is the upcoming surgery that has garnered all my energy

I have been meditating, and focusing on talking about it, to dissipate my fears.

But yesterday, while driving home from work and the car was quiet

I turned to The Barren and said " today is our anniversary"

He looked at me and said there are many anniversaries around now.

 

Our cousin has just passed this last weekend, after fighting multiple years

with a rare form of lung cancer.

She never smoked or lived in a house with smokers.

I was 5 years older than me.

 

The Barren didn't have to have a second biopsy for his skin cancer.

Instead they removed another layer of skin and bandaged him up.

Celebration ensued, after we left the office

I kissed him many times over again and again.

We have a 6 month check to monitor its healing.

 

I visited my grandparents.

They are in a cemetery about an hour and a half away.

I don't usually visit the grave, as I really don't think they are there.

or I hope they are not stuck there.

I knocked on the stone that covers them (like knocking on a door, my dad does that)

and then placed a stone on the marker.

I sat down in front of it and settled in and said "hello".

At that, the stone "fell" off and I said, well hello there.

I texted my brother and said:

 if you want to tell gma and gpa anything,

now would be a good time as I think they are here right now.

The visit was quiet and mostly me crying and asking questions to the warm wind.

 

Today is Halloween, the house is not decorated,

 my Dia De Los Muertos altar is not built

 I normally do these things with great joy and lightness.

but I seem to be falling behind, my mind easily distracted.

I am trying to be gentle with myself, let it all happen organically, and naturally.

but, I feel sad that I am not together, on top of it or motivated.

Time passes too quickly

I hope to work on the altar tonight



Information Gathering

Today I went to an appointment that I have been working on not thinking about for weeks.

I did pretty well until Friday when the paperwork arrived in the mail.

 

I had a consult with a specialist about my cyst (Quasimodo) the one that has been camped out for years and refuses to change or go away. My doc, as a precautionary measure wanted me to get a second opinion that my " hell no you can not go for a scenic drive around my pelvis and pluck whatever you damn well please" watch and wait method was still safe. I understood and quite frankly with all the health issues with family and friends as of late, I needed to step up to the plate.

It was a 6 week wait to see this doctor, and after my visit I see why.

 

I awoke early and as I sat in bed trying to figure out what time it was The Barren said so what are you going to say? I said I was going to ask if I was in mortal danger with my current modus operandi. He said " she is going to tell you, you need surgery...what will you say then? " Sweet man, playing devils advocate so I could prepare my speech. I told him that I would say " that is not an option for me, what is plan B, C,D, E or F?" He kissed me and said " good luck"

 

I arrived with my folder of past test results from 2004 to current and sat and waited. The office filled with mid-pregnant women and the door between the reception desk and back exam rooms was constantly swinging open as that same group of women were in a parade circle to the bathroom.

 

Free samples for the pregnant gals, sadly no drinks were offered to the rest of us.
Is there a suggestion card around....

 

I was called in and I could feel my heart beating so fast, and hard, I was terrified that I would not have the conviction in my voice to speak up in the face of this newest doctor. I was told on the phone that it didn't matter where I was in cycle that as it was only a consult, I was not going to be examined. Well she was wrong, large paper napkin in place, I did the modesty wiggle to unfold that paper as far as possible and then wrap the ends around my hips so my arse was not blowing in the wind...cross my legs up under me and resume some sense of dignity while I sat and waited some more.

 

I heard my chart removed from the outside of the door and she sat with it for a fair bit of time, in fact I was taken aback how long she read it....then she entered the room.

We said hellos and then I told her why I was there...careful around the word " get another set of eyes on it" as I was not opening the sightseeing tour just yet. She asked how my quality of life was, daily. Asked what my periods were like, then she asked another question:

 

Doctor Lady: " so you have stopped trying"

 

I sat there thinking about Nicole's post, feeling like my heart suddenly got a lot heavier

and in my next breath I said:

 

The Barreness: " it just didn't happen for us the way we wanted." 

 

Doctor Lady: " so you have come to terms with that "

 

I took a deep breath, and said

 

" as much as I can, it is something I work with everyday"

 

Doctor Lady: " What I mean is, you are not here to ask me to help you try and get pregnant"

 

The Barreness: " No, it can not happen the way we had hoped. I am here to make sure that my quality of life is maintained and that I am not putting myself at jeopardy"

 

Doctor Lady: "That is very brave of you, that is something very hard....do you have someone to talk with about it?  like a therapist or friends...you should not try to handle it alone"

 

The Barreness: " that is the most compassionate thing any doctor has said to me about my infertility, thank you. That was very kind of you"

 

Lady Doctor: " I am really sorry to hear that, really, that is sad"

 

She mentioned what she thinks I have is an Endometrioma and that it can be removed, if I ever want it to be...but if I am comfortable and only in hell a few days a month, and I am OK with that we can forget it. She then mentioned my lovely heart shaped uterus and mentioned that that is the most likely culprit for my losses. She mentioned that that could be removed too.
I told her I understood but now that I am over 40, I have changed paths...realizing that those were options (that were never mentioned to me by the way) for me at 34 when I started trying to stay pregnant. Reality is my eggs are older, and most likely pissed off at me and so I didn't need to invite Pandora into my life. I have had enough heartbreak and pain and loss.

She said she understood.

Scary shit you can be tested for...

 

In an effort to remove yet another scary option off my checklist, I gave a vial of blood for CA125,

she said that endometriosis can show it as an elevated number but she felt confident that she could tell the difference between endo and a cancer. So I did that too...not thinking about that either.

 

She gave me a feel, furrowed her brow while I tried to relax and told her I would add her to my list of people who have felt my uterus.

She ordered I get new ultrasounds, one as soon as my next period is over and then a followup 6 weeks later. it was important to start the plotting of the cyst and make sure it was not changing at all. My every four months was not close enough together...ugh

So I have those transvag days to look forward too into the holiday season....HOHOHO

 

Today is also the anniversary of my Nana's death. She left 6 years ago.

I mention this because what I did next is directly related.

When I was in the middle of finding all this sadness out, and being a medical guinea pig

I had to tell my Nana that I could not have kids.

She was not an emotional woman, in the sense that she didn't cry or hug.

Not a babushka kinda grandmother.

My Nana, liked men, drinks and sex.

But...

When I told her, she looked heartbroken and so concerned...

it made it almost unbearable.

She reached out and simply hugged me.

It was the best gift from her, knowing she loved me so completely.

About a week later, she sent me a card, in it was some cash.

The card said:

" Go get yourself something pretty, it will help you"

Classic 50's gal, pretty yourself up on the outside and it will start helping the inside

So today, after the appointment, I bought myself a couple new blouses.

I even got one for a friend that I know needs a little pick me up too.

thanks Nana

The condition of being mortal

Moonrise

So I have had a really strange week or two, it doesn't come as a total surprise that my dreams would reflect this reality.

I am thinly veiled that way.

To start with a childhood friend was just diagnosed with breast cancer.

It appeared between yearly mammograms in one breast.

 She was considering a prophylactic double mastectomy to avoid cancer showing up in the second breast; but, while waiting for labs, a period of two weeks, additional lumps in the first and new ones in second breast appeared.

She is a mother of two boys, one of which had a long battle with cancer himself, and is currently in remission.
It is events like this that make me question life and a higher being.

As I was bra shopping the other day, all I could think about was her. She and her mom took me bra shopping for my first bra, I think we had "mosquito bites" (that is what my Nana use to say)

She is not going to have breasts any more. All I could think about is how selfish of me to be so concerned about finding a bra that wouldn't show through my tee shirt.

This shopping trip was followed by a road trip to a friends wedding, The Barren was playing guitar for the wedding march with one of the brides uncles, it was the first public performance for the Barren so I went to witness this big event.

The bride is a professional dancer, who married a navy seal.

The church was near base, and so there were a lot of military families around. In fact, the whole town was pouring over with babies, pregnant women and toddlers.

There were hours of talk about babies and starting families and it all made sense.

The base felt like a haunted waiting room.

Loved ones leaving and others waiting for months, year after year.

It broke my heart and gave me a new and deeper appreciation for military families.

New brides and new parents.

It broke my heart and made me cling to The Barren even more.

Literally

The following day, Father's day, some of the brides family was gathered at an aunts home.

An uncle, went upstairs and never came down.

It was quite a shock, and totally unexpected.

This Uncle was the brother to the other musician that played in the wedding.

A friend to The Barren

Death seems to be all around me right now

And then today, I awoke from a dream that has me scratching my head.

I had a dream I had IVF done, on a whim. My eggs were projected onto an overhead projector for us to see prior to insemination. They were flat oblong shapes, three of them. Like, grains of rice, broken and poorly shaped.

I had them inseminated and then was told to have an orgasm to "set them deeply into my uterus"

We went to a movie theatre afterwards that was filled with people I recognised from high school. Unaged and staring at me.

I began to have a panic attach and grabbed The Barren and was crying

" I can't do this, these babies will never grow, they are all broken.

I can't go through all this pain again"

Then I woke up

 I am not sure I know what this means...I am feeling loss

In newer and deeper ways maybe?

I know I do feel lost

Selective Memory

Today I attended the funeral of a woman I considered another grandmother.

I attended the funeral of her daughter earlier this week and while driving from that funeral to the afterfood/social gathering we got a phone call that her mother had passed. 

It was beyond surreal.

Today is the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz; 67 years ago today.

For many this is a reminder of horrible history, for Helen it marks her liberation as well as the day she was laid to rest.

(the connections were not lost on any of us)

We remember how she and two siblings were all that remained of her family of 8.

Her best friend was at the funeral; the woman she befriended in the camps and then walked the death marches next to, shared stolen food with, and

who married her surviving brother and became her sister-in-law.

Helen was an amazingly strong woman, and from a very early age I was told that she was a survivor. She never spoke of the camps openly, it was always something you had to ask about. She wore shirts that hid her number, and when she caught sight of it showing was quick to cover it again. 

While visiting with her back in 1998, she was talking about how she was marched out of her home in 1942 and had never gone back.

She could never go back.

 She was convinced that her home was destroyed when the Nazi's cleared the Częstochowa Ghetto

Hearing this and loving her as much as I do, I told her I would go to Poland and look for her home.

I carried a little piece of paper in my pocket that had her street name, and the correct spelling of her town and went to Europe in her place.

I found her street, I found her home, I sent her a postcard from her town and I brought her pictures I had taken.

When seeing the images, she cried and started telling stories about living in that home.

It prompted her grandchildren to go there a few years later and see the home themselves and asks neighbors if anyone remembered their grandmother.

She loved family, had a wicked sense of humor and was egged to be even more mischievous when she was in the company of either of my grandmothers.

When I turned 21, my Nana asked me to pick 5 people to celebrate with me.

I picked my "grandmothers", 4 women that were grandmothers to me and my bestest friend.

My Nana took us all to....Chippendale's!

Aside from the awkwardness of being in a strip club with my grandmothers, it quickly faded away when I saw these woman, laughing and squealing and flirting with the strippers.

That is what I remember about the night, not the oiled men, or what I saw them do, but instead these amazing women, being girls...being girls with me.

Ever since that night, every time I saw her she would kiss me, and while hugging me say in my ear

"when are we going to see the big men again?" raising her eyebrows and smirking.

This is how I will remember her, smiling, smirking and giggling.

I miss her terribly and she is only been gone for two days.

 

Here are your big men Helen:

Long Long time, like yesterday

I have been filled with sorrow as of late.

I am missing my grandmothers terribly.

One passed away in September 2006, the other in December 2008.

It feels like an eternity ago I was sitting next to either,

or

feeling their hands rounding my back in a hug.

My last words with my Nana, had her laboring for breath.

As I was leaving from a visit, she reached out to me... I turned and asked her what is it ?

What are you wanting to tell me...

and thru labored breath she simply said "I love you" 

I looked at her and told her I loved her too.

Three days later she was laying on her bed, surrounded by family

taking her last breathes thru her fluid filled lungs.

I don't remember my last conversation with my grandmother...

I spoke with her often over the phone, as I was unable to visit her in the care facility she lived.

My grandfather was in one too, and since his death in 1991 I promised I would never go back into one.

Even for my grandmother.

I was a selfish granddaughter that way

So I called a lot and spoke to her on the phone, mailed her pictures of the garden and visited with her at my parents home, away from the memories of a care facility

We carved pumpkins together in October and celebrated my parents anniversary together in November, and I called to wish her a happy Hannukah in the beginning of the month.

Then I got a call to come to the hospital a few days later; she was asleep after another fall and was not going to wake up.

We were surrounding her as well, when she took her last breath

She finally escaped the body that gave her so much pain.

Now years later I am left with the emptiness of not being able to call them.

Not hearing their voice

Smelling their perfume or soft skin

Sometimes I wake from sleep, I can hear their voices say my name

I have stopped having dreams of my grandmother yelling at me,

or

my Nana driving and complaining they got her hair color all wrong

Now I simply just feel left, like they are calling me from far away

They feel so so far away

Thinly Coated

My Grandmothers Hands

I am feeling so very raw.

Like I have the thinnest protection and yet I am walking thru a knife shop.

I am proud of my work, I do think it really speaks to the pain and loss both emotionally and physically that infertility makes.

As I look again at the work as I tuck it into their frames and mats...I am moved again.

Frightened and moved.

I simply feel like I need to be touched...that sense that you are not alone,

the quiet comfort, that someone else is there.

I am missing my grandmothers dearly and keep calling to them.

In moments of panic I find myself looking at pictures of them to soothe me.

My grandmothers are both gone from this world.

One a little over 4years, the other just shy of 2 years.

I had very different relationships with each, but both were close ones.

I was terrified when I told them about our childless future.

One simply wept...openly and deeply.

Then never mentioned it again, but asked once if I was still in pain.

The other wanted to make it all better,

she hugged me and sent me a card with money in it

suggesting I go buy myself something bright to wear.

I want to share this show with them...but I can't.

I have already decided to wear something to the show opening that reminds me of them,

a quiet personal reminder that they would be there if they could.

At least that is what I am telling myself

Repeating my fears

Maybe it is the upcoming ultrasound, maybe it is leftover fear...

regardless my dreams last night were somewhat comforting, but mostly heartbreaking.

I was on the beach participating in a silent protest, were were all wrapped in wool blankets and had buried ourselves in the sand so we looked like freshly dug graves. Dirt piled mounds.

I was peeking out of my blanket to see if others were doing the same...and after a period of time we all began to sit up.

Someone behind me asked if I had my period...I wasn't sure how long I had been laying with everyone but for some time...and I said "no, why?" and then she said "Oh My God!"

I reached behind myself and felt wet, I pulled my hand up and saw blood; a handful of blood and tissue.

I realized I was having another miscarriage and wrapped myself up in my blanket to walk away...

When I got up I was dizzy and it was then that I realized I was still bleeding.

I wandered looking for someone to help me... I remember my brother picking me up and carrying me somewhere as I was blacking out and hearing peoples voices say she has lost so much blood.

~

At some point I came to a room and my grandmothers were there.

They told me that they would take care of it....

I was in some sort of portal between worlds.

My grandmothers had come to take the lost baby away to live with them.

It was then, that I knew that they were aware of this loss and that they were trying to help me.

Something in the dream told me that there was more then one child they were watching and I began to weep and sway. I passed out in my dream...and awoke.