Tomorrow is seven weeks

Time is still weird. People I haven't seen in a while ask how I'm doing.
OK, I say, most days. It depends on the day.

Ketzl was kind of cranky tonight and meowed loudly to go outside. But not after dark. I played with him with the stuffed thing on a wand and found the honeysuckle pillow. He meowed a lot at the back door, chased the wand, and is now ready to go to sleep. With a little bit of luck, maybe he will let me sleep in in the morning. That would be really really nice.

Tonight was an interesting dinner and historical presentation on the Jews of the Ottoman Empire (Turkey and Greece mostly) with food from the area. Really yummy food. Go Brotherhood. Then tomorrow morning is a Sisterhood brunch at a lovely country club setting in Los Gatos. I don't miss my Temple friends even on the weekend this weekend...

I know I had some good things to say, but I waited too long to start and my tired brain is not cooperating.

Hard to believe that tomorrow is actually June. I have so many things to do.

Garbage Out and a sadness

The saying is, Garbage in, garbage out.
Well the garbage is out tonight. It's been my job alone for a while.

Today I mailed in my Hospice evaluation of the service provided by their team. In most areas, I rated them excellent. I counted cuz they wanted to know. 26 days, I think, was the number. Amazing.

The cat likes the new laptop computer. He is marking it by rubbing against it with the side of his face. He likes the box it came in as well. Now Ketzl is sitting beside me on the couch. He is sitting on the grey and white blanket, purring.

The sadness is that we didn't succeed in getting a laptop computer. We could have gotten some kind of PC because Linda would not get a Mac despite the fact that 3 of the boys have them. But she couldn't find the one that met all her requirements for size, speed, accessories, etc etc etc. And those of us surrounding tried to help make it a reality in some way. The wireless network could have been installed earlier had we only gotten a laptop. But it never happened. What it meant is that essentially Linda was cut off from people and other things that she could have been in touch with via computer. Not just the blog. But connecting with people via email as well as keeping up on news and interesting articles and just plain surfing.

And that makes me sad.

So I will make friends with the Mac and download my pictures on it. Ketzl has his head leaning on it right now. Very cute.

OK tomorrow is Friday everywhere but at the synagogue, it's busy. Lots of activity for the weekend, too. Thank goodness the toe is better and Christine and I have resumed walking. It felt really good this morning.

NEW FROM THE MACBOOK!!

OK so yesterday I was mistyping the password to get onto the local house wireless access and today I got it right!!

Small Things

Ketzl likes strawberries.

Other things that I have inherited from Linda:
Palmer's Cocoa Butter: a wonderful soothing extremely effective moisturizer, and it smells delicious, too! Worked really well on my hands last night.
The small flip-top caps for toothpaste tubes, which enable you to open them with one hand! We save them, wash them out and re-used them. Another time when standardized sizing really helps.

Object Lesson: Please do not object

A dear reader, who shall remain nameless to protect her identity, commented on how easy it looked for the survivors to handle the financial and legal aspects after Linda's death.

Dear friends:
THIS WAS NOT AN ACCIDENT! Please listen up.
Linda was a tax specialist, a registered financial planner, and an attorney who did a lot of wills and trusts. She was also meticulously organized when it came to important documents.

Therefore, it was easy to find the physical folders containing what we needed, the insurance policies were in the strong box (metal), her computer files had contact information on everything and everyone, and in the last weeks of her life, Linda amended her trust and had it notarized.

It was no accident. It was all meticulously planned.

My questions to you: Do you have a will? Do you have a trust? Does the executor/trustee know that this is his/her job? Are your papers in order? Are they easily retrievable? Do people know where they are? Do you have updated contact information for insurance companies, banks, credit cards, etc.?

Carpe diem! That means "sieze the carp." Well, no, it doesn't.
It means later is not OK. Because you don't what what happens between now and "later."
(This from a woman who has neither a will nor a trust, but is actively thinking about getting them done.) Do it as a gift to the survivors.

The MacBook is here!

Very exciting times ahead. It is really user friendly. Can't connect yet to the home wireless network. But I trust I will get help tomorrow at the office. :~)

I'm not sure why today was such a difficult day.
Thank you, Jay, for lyrics to the Beatles' "In My Life" from Rubber Soul.

There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed,
Some forever, not for better,
Some have gone and some remain.
All these places had their moments,
With lovers and friends I still can recall,
Some are dead and some are living,
In my life I've loved them all.
But of all these friends and lovers,
There is no one compared with you,
And these mem'ries lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new.
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before,
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more.

Thank you, Christine, for your open door and open arms.

Onward tomorrow to Mac-ness! Something to take with on the trip. Also got an invite to stay 1/2 hour north of Yellowstone. Someone that I know from Los Angeles when I was maybe 4 or 5 years old. That fits in nicely with The Plan (such as it is).

It's almost spring...or should I say summer?

Well, you can't tell by the weather here, only the calendar. But I'm getting ready. I did find the box of summer shoes in the garage (unlabeled, a shape different than I was looking for, but found!). And today I ironed a bunch of shirts. For those of you who don't know me face to face, my signature look in warmer weather is a cotton or rayon shirt with flowers, not necessarily Hawaiian shirts, but bright and floral. So those are ready for when the sun decides to cooperate.
Actually, cooler weather is better for the fire still not completely controlled in the Santa Cruz Mountains, not far from here. And I can always wear a sweater on top of a flowered shirt.

Daniel and Jeremy and I went out for breakfast at a lovely independent diner not too far from here. Conveniently located near Orchard Supply Hardware, where we went afterward to take advantage of the 10% off everything coupon and a sale on gorilla racks for their garage. They helped with a few chores around the house, which was nice.

Ketzl appreciated me being home most of the day. He got to sleep in the broccoli box on the deck in the backyard. When he came in, dinner was ready, and he let me brush him twice...got a couple of decent handfuls of the under-fur out, until he lost patience and let me know with ears back and threatening teeth.

Last night and today had a few hard moments. I changed the sheets, and in passing by Linda's side, I opened the case with her glasses. That got me started. So did the sheets, for some reason. Then I took a tour of the photos in the house gallery, and felt better.

I'm dealing with the question of which pronoun to use...the plural possessive "our" or should I go back to "my"? I'm thinking of sticking with "our" for the time being. As in "our friends."

Thanks for calling, Elly. It was nice to compare weeding stories and catch up.

Now off to dinner with Jeff and Razmik, Charlie and Christine, Jackie and Susan.
And tomorrow is another day, a work day.
But this Memorial Day off was really wonderful. You know how sometimes you need a weekend to recover from a weekend? This wasn't so bad, but one extra day, to sleep in, get stuff done around the house, was a real plus.

And on a related note

From a small pamphlet "Coping with the Death of a Spouse," by Rabbi Rachel Cowan. From a nice series called Life Lights, Help for wholeness and healing, words for the soul by Jewish LIghts Publishing (www.jewishlights.com). More from the pamphlet at another time.

Rabbi Cowan quotes a poem by Merrit Malloy

(this may be a good time to grab a tissue....just warning you all)

When I die
If you need to weep
Cry for someone
Walking the street beside you.

And when you need me
Put your arms around others
And give them what you need from me.
You can love me most by letting
Hands touch hands, and
Souls touch souls.

You can love me most by
Sharing your joys
Multiplying your good deeds.

You can love me most by
Letting me live in your eyes
And not in your mind.

And when you say Kaddish for me
Remember what our Torah teaches,
Love doesn't die --
People do.
So when all that's left of me is love
Give me away.

Words to the Song, amended

The words to "Yesh Kochavim" that I posted earlier are one translation of Hannah Senesh's poem. There is a slightly different version by Jeff Klepper, who with Daniel Freelander, recorded the song. Here it is:

There are stars up above so far away we only see their light
long long after the star itself is gone.
And so it is with people that we loved,
their memories keep shining, ever brightly, thought their time with us is done.
But the stars that light up the darkest night, these are the lights that guide us.
As we live our days, these are the ways we remember, we remember.
As we live our days, these are the ways we remember.

Transliteration is a less than perfect art, but here's one stab at the Hebrew:
(Yesh kochavim sheoram magia artzah, rak ka-asher heim atzmam avdu v'einam. Yesh anashim sheziv zichram meir ka'asher heim atzmam einam od b'tocheinu. Orot eilah hamavhikim b-cheshkat halayil. Heim heim shemarim la-adam et haderech, et haderech. Heim heim shemarim la'adam et haderech, et haderech.)

How did it get to be Thursday night already?

Wow, this week has really flown by. Or maybe it is just that time is still being weird.

Tonight Rabbi Magat was part of a clergy team at a very interesting ceremony: a mourning for the Israeli and Palestinian children who have died in the conflict. It was organized by two students at Santa Clara University and included prayers, stories, chanting from the Quran, a modern ritual of tearing a black strip of cloth (tying a piece on your neighbor's wrist and putting the other half in a common jar). Very nicely done. Interesting side note: The revived San Jose Earthquakes were playing a game on campus, so the traffic situation was a bit nuts.

From blog to comment to blog: "Tears contain the actual genetic material of our memories."
I quite like that turn of phrase.

I forget which grief book it was in, but I encountered a snippet from Kahlil Gibran that I remember from more than 40 years ago. It struck me then as interesting, but I don't think I understood it. I only hope that is true . :~)

"The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain."

There are actually three copies of "The Prophet" on the shelf. I had to do some climbing. It took a while to find it/them because they were right next to a vertical divider, and a small black edition of the book was blocking the spines of the other two. One was mine, one was Linda's (with the receipt from Books Etc. in Stow OH from 09/92 still inside). The small black book is dated 1945, about 4" by 6", leather cover and a small ribbon inside to mark one's place. What is the place, you might ask. "Joy and Sorrow," page 32. Exactly the piece I was looking for.

When Linda moved to California, bringing a large portion of her library with, there were of course many duplicates. Us both being women of approximately the same age, interested in somewhat the same things. Many of the extra copies were given away, but some we kept. "The Prophet" was one of the latter.

Other interesting things I inherited from Linda: a small item that has a magnetic back and lives on the fridge: an egg piercer so that eggs are less likely to split open when boiling. Several shoe-horns of various sizes and materials. The ancestral Q-tip containers that Adam and David remember from when they were growing up in Akron (one in each bathroom) -- reminder to self: time to refill the Q-tips.

So every day seems to have its weepy moment or moments. One thing or another will start the tears flowing. Someone will ask how I'm doing, and I answer "mostly fine" and start to cry. Telling someone the story of Linda and Cousin Carrie Fisher, Princess Leia to the rest of the world. Looking at the pictures on the bookshelves and having a hard time grappling with the reality that Linda is physically gone...really not here, really not coming back. But just as often, the pictures make me smile.

Someone said that it's good I'm choosing to let it out. I say I don't feel as though I have much of a choice. It just happens.

Weird. That's the most accurate thing I can say. It (the large, generic, all-encompassing "it") is just weird.

What to do with all the pictures....

So with several trips to the Dollar Store where things are, yup, a buck apiece, many small picture frames were acquired. Many hours were spent selecting the frame that went with each photo, bringing out the color in the picture, having a style that "fit" better. So there they all were, covering 4 (four) six-foot tables (surrounded by the hats, of course), and there were more photographs on the tables where people sat to eat. At the end of the evening last night, the collection was stacked neatly in a box, put in the back of my car, and I drove them home, thinking "I don't have enough surface area to display these pictures. What will I do with them now?"

Last night I was too tired to shlep things into the house, so this morning, I brought the box in, and left it in the dining room area. Tonight when I came home, I thought again, "Whatever shall I do with all these pictures?"

And then, on a whim, I started going through them. And finding places for really a lot of them...choosing the pictures that spoke to me. So, even though I don't have a lot of flat space that is less accessible to the cat, here's where they are (admittedly with lots of sniffling, but with a lot of joy also), mostly on bookshelves, at least for the present time:

In the computer room: in an elegant gold frame, the one of Linda looking intently (we know it's her computer screen), two feet away from her computer.
The silly one from Spencer's bar mitzvah is in a frame with a purple and black checkerboard pattern, and it's on the paper shelf near where it had been tucked into a box.
In the living room: the collection of five: 4 of me and Linda (one on the bridge in Italy from the handout), two in restaurants, one "the feminine side of Brokeback Mountain," from a Halloween party), and one of her at a New Year's Party in a sparkly sweater; the fabulous late-chosen picture with the wind billowing her jacket on the deck of the NCL ship in Hawaii, blowing, flying; and the formal picture from Cassie's bat mitzvah, where we are in red and black (and the frame is silver and black, nice and formal).
In the dining room on the sideboard, a picture of Linda in a black newsboy cap, smiling (of course).
In the bookcase in the hall, where I took out the Nehama Leibowitz commentaries to bring to Meeka: in a purple frame, a purple hibiscus at Na'aina Kai with rain drops on it. Spectacular!
In the family room: water lilies, plumeria and one of Linda and Ketzl.
Down the hallway on the bookshelves: the two of Linda with Adam and David, from different eras.
Just across from the "inside bathroom" Linda in the hot tub aboard the ship in Hawaii.
The fabulous one that's in the program in the white straw hat with the bricks in the background.
another one of water lilies (channeling Monet), and a silly one where we are on either side of a giant stuffed bear in Germany.
In the guest room: two simple portraits: one in a sailor hat on the QM2.
In our (my) bedroom: "caution: butterfly zone" with Linda standing next to the sign, in Pacific Grove one January, and the two of the wedding ceremony 01/11/01, one of the two of us smiling at each other, one with Rabbi giving us a blessing.

I had to go and count. That's 21, or 26 if you count the individual pictures in the combo-frame.

So, going from the assumption that I didn't have enough space for them, the house is now totally populated with pictures.

Interesting, that we never before had many pictures of us around the house. Linda spent a lot of time sizing, editing for color and brightness, so many of her pictures from our trips. But once digital photography came to us, few were actually printed. So photos of her family (her grandparents, Nana and Poppy; her parents, Gaggy and Pa; pix of very young Adam and David) are now joined by 21-26 pictures of Linda, the two of us, and flowers. I'm still sniffling a trifle, but it feels really good.

More than one person has mentioned how sad it is that the California Supreme Court decision came after Linda died, that we didn't have the chance to get married "legally." But I will say what I told her: We were married. It didn't matter what or who knew or what or who sanctioned it. For the people to whom it was important, they knew. Linda and Deborah. Deborah and Linda. And now not quite that any more.

So the house is filled with pictures, small reminders of Linda's physical presence. As we all know, she is still with me, with all of us. ~~ It's OK to go grab a tissue now :-)

L'Chaim: To Life!

First things first: Ketzl was just waking up as I was leaving, so by the time I got home 6 hrs later, he was pretty cranky. Cooked some asparagus and now he wants to be outside in the cool night air (and yes it is cooling off nicely). So he is fed and now out, and I check on him more frequently than I do during the daytime.

It took a non-Jew to notice that today's celebration of Linda's life was on the 18th of the month, and 18 is the Hebrew numerical equivalent of Chai, life. Thanks, Elly!

So how did it go? Ask someone who was there...and for those of you off in other parts, it was really wonderful. Thanks to my angels (Marcy, Jackie, Christine, Paula, Dana and Meeka) things went pretty smoothly. There was enough liturgy to give substance and nice Jewish feel, several wonderful tributes, some lovely music (Yesh Kochavim, see lyrics below), rousing (almost) renditions of "I Will Survive" and "We Are Family" before adjourning to the food. Lots of food. There were small candy bars on the tables. the display of many photos and a portion of Linda's hat collection. Thank you all who sent me Linda stories. I printed them out and had them in document sleeves around a table, and the guests were appreciative of your words.

I would say there were about 75 people who came, representing the various groups: Temple Emanu-El, Rainbow Women's Chorus, Silicon Valley Gay Men's Chorus, the nursery school parents (and some kids), the Jewish LGBT group, our neighbors from next-door and down the street, and a few and sundry others who don't fit neatly into a category. The flowers are exquisite. I had requested tropicals and they came through amazingly well: birds of paradise, anthurium, roses, and of course, orchids. There is so much food left over. Wonderful lunches await at the office during the week, with thanks to Costco's cheese selection!

Not surprisingly, I am really tired. Getting up at 6:30 AM courtesy of the cat was the starter. Plus it did really take a lot of work to get all the pieces together. And my car has boxes in it that await retrieval tomorrow.

So what, you may ask, is the one tihng I want to take away from tihs evening? I think how important it is to be able to cry. And cry together. Letting it out helps. Shedding tears help shed the grief, one book said. And it is a process. A journey. One foot in front of the other.

I heard Karen Armstrong interviewed on NPR this afternoon. She said she found it interesting that often, religious people are called "believers," because in her view, a truly religious person is someone who acts, rather than simply philosophising or holding on to an idea. The belief without action is empty.

So in that sense, Linda was a deeply religious person, not because of what she believed, but because hers was a life filled with acts of compassion and loving kindness.

Words to Yesh Kochavim, by Hannah Senesh
"There are stars whose light reaches earth
Only when they themselves are no more.
And there are people whose radiance illumines our memory
When they themselves are no longer in our midst.
These lights that shine in the darkest night
They light the way for humanity.”

May Linda's radiance illumine our memories and our lives. May her memory be a blessing always.

With lots of love this night from California.

Got time for a quickie?

Oh my. It's almost midnight. I need to get something down so it's listed as Saturday! Quick!
Phew! now that's done, I can relax and keep you all up to date.

Food is planned for (though I have no idea how many people are coming tomorrow for the celebration of Linda's life). Cantor Meeka says "whoever shows up are the ones who are supposed to be there." Flowers are arranged for. Photos have been selected and trimmed and framed (thanks Jeff and Jackie). I need to get a few more pictures of flowers from the Hawaii trip (thanks Steve and Rochelle). Maybe not until morning though because I am pretty tuckered. Fortunately, it's cooling off significantly. I bet the hot weather is great for the tomatoes. Note to self: go water in the morning.

Just as my California "family" surrounded me when I was in New York, tomorrow I know I will feel the love and support from all the WPHS crowd. Thank you for your continued connection.

It is still pretty weird at times. Looking over the amazing number and quality of photographs on Linda's computer...it was a real revolution when we switched to digital pictures. Linda was then free to take as many as she wanted (which was a LOT) and then play with them, cropping, adjusting the lighting, contrast, etc. to create the best representation of an image. Hours spent on the Hawaii trip alone.

Jackie says I need to try to get some reast tonight. So I will take advantage of Ketzl's being asleep to sneak off to the bedroom. Oh wait. He's deaf. He won't hear me leave! LOL

So tomorrow is another milestone on this journey. One foot in front of the other. One step at a time.

It's Too Darn Hot!

Shopping for Sunday is happening. When I left Costco late this afternoon, the outside temperature according to my car's reading was 101 degrees. I didn't know it could go over 100! By the time I got home closer to 8 PM it was down to 92, and felt blessedly cool. Well, only by comparison.

So I am the Princess of Airflow (or perhaps Queen of Airflow in Training). I remembered which doors to open, how to install the fan in the dining room window (pushing air out, which pulls it through the house). The bedroom is now 78 degrees. Tolerable. I needed to stand on a stool in the shower to open the sliding window a bit more. A running joke: I married Linda for her height, and she married me for my warmth (her feet were always cold, a family condition).

It's still 81 outside in the front. Tomorrow all the weathermen say it will be a bit cooler, but the offshore breezes won't be back until Sunday. Even San Francisco is very hot, which is extremely unusual. You all know the saying, "the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco." Though a quick check of Snopes reveals that Mark Twain did not say it.

Today was the landmark decision by the California Supreme Court (in case you missed it) reversing the 2006 ruling of the state appeals court upholding the ban on gay marriage, and stating that the constitution of the state of California guarantees equality. Lots of celebrating out there.

One small person who doesn't eat at home regularly except for breakfast does not generate very much garbage. Still haven't started the papers back. Maybe I just won't. Loads of laundry are small and infrequent. The dishwasher runs once a week.

The "pink pages," the entertainment and massive puzzle section of the Sunday SF Chronicle from April 13 sits unopened on the stand in the entry. I have not done a crossword puzzle in over a month. What's up with that?

Getting Ready for Sunday and Other Musings

Preparation for the celebration of Linda's life are in full swing. Menu planned. Shopping scheduled. Thanks, Marcy, for helping with food. Thanks, Jeff, for the photos. Thanks, Jesse, for the flowers. Thanks, Paula, for offering to arrange for the music. Thanks, Christine, for preparing the pamphlet -- it is beautiful. Thanks, Elinor and friends, for giving us the template for Mother from which to work. Thanks to all of you who have sent stories. I'll take them at any time.

So that's the focus -- getting ready for and getting through Sunday.

Tonight I got my hair cut by Delia. Janis recommended her several years ago as someone who knew how to cut the hair of cancer patients. Also, her own mother died 13 years ago of cancer, so she is compassionate as well as good. I had to tell her that Linda died last month. Not easy. Then I treated myself to a manicure, minor pedicure and small massage at a salon around the corner (as my NY treatments had gotten a bit ragged). The cut looks really nice, but I just don't like the feel of mousse in my hair. We'll see how it behaves tomorrow after a shower.

We were out of cantaloupe, so I stopped on the way home to pick some up. It always makes me laugh when I can't get the cut pieces into the bowl and on the floor quickly enough so Ketzl gets up on the counter, licking at the remainder of the melon. I got home early enough (and it's staying light late enough) so that Ketzl could go outside for just a bit.

Things that need order include some renovations for the yards. First is removal of critters. Net so far: one possum, one rat. Next will be termite riddance. Appointment on Monday. I dearly hope that some alternative to tenting and noxious fumes will work. Today I met with a landscape designer. Because he came to me from two channels, I felt it must be right. He did Fran's yard and we met him at her birthday party two years ago, and he knows Daphne from a class at Foothill College and she works with him on some installations and fruit tree management. Thems are high recommendations, and it means that Daphne will be able to work on the yards here. We'll get the overall plan and then implement it in phases. One thing that made me feel good was that Glenn felt that the overall shape of the front yard is nice. (I designed it.) But we agreed on eliminating the agapanthus (lily of the Nile) and camellias. The flowers are pretty but their overall value is slight (in my opnion). I am looking forward to his ideas.

Putting on the purple ribbon pin is getting more automatic and less hard. I can change the toilet paper roll so that it comes out from underneath if I want! I still need to remember to put things away more consistently, but I haven't lost my keys or cell phone recently. I need to finish up the acknowledgment cards, including some donations to the scholarship fund at the University of Akron School of Law. What a brilliant idea that is. (Thanks Adam and Suzanne)

Today was very warm, and it's supposed to get even warmer the next few days. Among other titles, Linda was "The Queen of Airflow," and I dutifully closed all window coverings and doors to spare rooms, and hte house stayed pretty bearable. I've learned! There is so much that I learned from Linda. There was so much more to learn. So now I just need to figure things out on my own. "What would Linda do?"

A List of Pancreatic Cancer Patients

It keeps getting longer.
Found in a file of Linda's medical records, a pamphlet from PanCAN, titled The Many Faces of Pancreatic Cancer. I don't recognize all the names, but enough:
Jack Benny, John Beradino, Cardinal Joseph Bernardin, Vince Edwards, Art Fleming, Dizzy Gillespie, Fred Gwynne, Rex Harrison, Fernando Lamas, Michael Landon, Henry Mancini, Marcello Mastoianni, Margaret Mead, Paul Mitchell, Juliet Prowse, Donna Reed, Charles Revson, R.J. Reynolds, Irving Wallace. Add to the list: Patrick Swayze, Dith Pran (Cambodian journalist and freedom fighter, the inspiration behind the film, The Killing Fields), Kirsten Arusha (age 37, mother of 6 yr old twins, Director of the Fair Housing Law Project in San Jose).

Weird. Things (like time) are still weird. Is anyone else out there counting? Linda died four weeks ago today.

Happy Mother's Day (or is it Mothers' Day?)

Sending a virtual bouquet (requires no water, and the flowers don't die) to all of you who are mothers and to all of you who have/had a mother, or know anyone who is a mother. Wishing us all some warm memories on this special day.

Adam sent me a link to Thomas Friedman's article from today's New York Times. It is touching in so many ways. My mother, Ann Levine, had advanced Alzheimer's for the last five years of her life. She died on March 11, 2007 -- one year, one month and two days before Linda.

If I were more computer literate, I'd know how to embed a link and make it a nice color. I hope this URL suffices and that you can read the article (if you choose):
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/11/opinion/11friedman.html?ex=1211169600&en=7b9024b3816dce97&ei=5070&emc=eta1

Thanks, Adam.
XOXOXOXOX :~)

Really Important Nugget from "Good Grief: Healing Through the Shadow of Loss"

By Deborah Morris Coryell (who heads something call The Shiva Foundation in San Luis Obispo -- www.goodgrief.org) This is one of the books I got from BookBuyers. Not finished with it yet. But every time I come back to these two pages, I am struck again.. Bear with me. It's long, but I hope you will find it worthwhile. pp 42-43

Healing our grief means continuing to love in the face of loss. The face of loss -- what we see -- is that someone or something is gone. The heart of loss teaches us that nothing -- no thing -- we have every known can be lost. What we have known we have taken into ourselves in such a way that it has become part of the very fabric of our being. It is part of who we are, and as long as we are alive we have the capacity to continue to love even that which is longer a part of our daily reality. This means that we will need to "change our minds" about many notions that we have had about loss: That what we can no longer "see" is gone. That what we can no longer touch doesn't continue to live. That if there is no response, the relationship is over.

Close your eyes and see that which you can no longer touch, that which is gone from your presence. Reach inside of you to the feeling of touching, hearing, smelling, being with your experience of what you believed was lost.

Remember.

We are haunted by societal fears that we should not continue to stay connected with what is gone, what is past, what has been lost. We are warned that there is a pitfall here, a caveat, symbolized by Dickens' Miss Havisham: be wary of that part of us that might want to live in the past. The challenge is to bring the past along with us in such a way that we haven't lost anything. We don't ignore the challenge because of the pitfall. Truth to tell, we could not forget our past if we wanted to. What we choose to leave in the past, we can. What we choose to continue loving, we can. We are asked to give new form to what was contained in an earlier relationship. Our grief becomes the container for what we feel we have lost, and in the process of grieving we come into some new wholeness. We create a way to incorporate, literally to take into our bodies, that which has become formless. Like the caterpillar, we go into a cocoon to a safe place so that the old self can dissolve and a new self can be created.

Like the art of losing, this metamorphosis is not automatic. It does not happen simply in the course of time. Rather, it is a self-conscious act. Grieving is a path to self-realization because in the process of grieving we acknowledge that which we choose not to lose. In the art of losing we can choose who we will be. We break but we break open so that we can include more of life, more of love. We get bigger in order to carry with us what we choose to continue loving.

Enough with the Tomatoes Already!

THE TOMATOES ARE IN! All 8 plants, which is a lot for a small plot. It will be an overgrown tomato forest (I hope). 2 Early Girl, and 1 each of Sweet 100, yellow pair, green zebra, Mr. Stripey, Brandywine (I think another heirloom, dark purplish), and one other. Lemon and Armenian cucumbers.
So no more about tomatoes until the first harvest!

Coincidence?

When I selected the colors for the blog to replace the default greens, the purple was a no-brainer. But when I settled on the pink as the right panel, I had forgotten until just now that Linda had a polarfleece shirt that is purple and pink, pretty much these colors. Nice. It's hanging in the closet. Not the all purple Yahoo! one.

Small things

Dinner tonight was back to La Fiesta (where Fran and I ate last week), with Daphne, our arborist. Amazingly, Daphne did the garden installation at Fran's house. Very small world. (small #1)

She had the chicken enchiladas with mole sauce. Not the animal mole. It's a Spanish word pronounced moe-lay. This was THE BEST mole I've ever tasted. Smoky, nice heat. Absolutely wonderful. Daphne accepted one of the orange 24-7 Real Media hats that was Linda's. (You'll have to read the story to see how important that was.) Then we went up to BookBuyers where Daphne found exactly the book she was looking for, by Thich Nhat Hanh. Perfect. (small #2)

Putting on the pin wasn't so difficult this morning. (small #3)

Still having trouble getting out of the house in the morning. (not a small)

Good timing on the way home from Mountain View:
Decided to get gas at Costco because it is next door to the post office. Good decision: I was the last car in line because they close at 9:30 PM. Then took the mail.
There was nice asparagus at SaveMart. Ketzl was VERY appreciative (and loud) when I got home and finally got it into the bowl. Not quickly enough.
Oh .. this morning instead of cantaloupe, I tried mango. Yes, Ketzl is a true Klein-Zimmer and likes mango (not quite as much as melon, though) small #4

This week will be the 4th Shabbat that Linda's name will be read during Friday night services.
I'm not exactly sure when Shloshim ends. That's the 30 days of mourning (shalosh is the Hebrew word for 3, shloshim is a plural, hence 30). I'll have to check to see whether it starts with the date of death, or the first Shabbat the name is read. It is nice that there are a few set time frames in Judaism that help manage this first period. Then it's off into the next 11 months. It really is my intention to attend services somewhere, somehow, every week for a year.

Plans are moving along for the 18th. I will need to talk with Dana (rabbi) and Meeka (cantor) about what we will do in terms of ceremony. I think we need to include some songs that everyone can sing. How about "We are Family"? or "I will Survive!"? Or maybe both? There will be a number of singers there, so I do think we should take advantage.

Tomatoes will wait until Saturday. In the meantime they and the cucumbers are doing very nicely on the front porch.

24 days

OK, so I'm still counting in days not weeks. Or back to counting in days. This grieving is not a linear process, which is why one author said there really aren't "stages of grief." There are backsies.

Last night it was not so difficult to write some thank you notes acknowledging donations made to Hospice or Pancan in Linda's memory. It was kind of surprising but also nice that it was not as hard as I had anticipated. Only a few left to go.

Today was a pretty wild and wacky day at the synagogue. Staff meetings are always a hoot (woon hoot) and it went downhill from there. Seriously, we were all pretty cranky, not so much at each other but at "stuff" and "situations." So we vented and felt better.

Dinner tonight at a new Thai restaurant, Tee Nee Thai (is that a play on words for Teeny?? the place is pretty small...) and the food was really yummy. Maybe we'll go there for Mother's Day...better make a reservation.

At staff meeting, my early summer plans got almost approved. Exciting. The pieces are falling into place and I will get to meet Stanley Kutler (Linda's UWisconsin history professor) and Liz Pittel (from White Plains HS) in person. The only question is which date do I return. Very exciting prospect driving across country...well to Wisconsin, anyway.

Ketzl needs to romp some, and I'd better do it so hopefully I can get a decent night's sleep. He is having to learn being home for long stretches by himself. He just learned the new route here in the office: up on Linda's chair, across the keyboard, over to the printer and stopping on top. He moves quickly away and I think he knows he's not really supposed to be there...that it's just an attention getting device, like knocking things off counters.

Still thinking in weeks

You must first understand that my 90 year old father lives in the apartment with the best view in Santa Monica. 5th floor, looking south, on Ocean Avenue, two blocks north of Wilshire Blvd, right near the California Grade which goes down to Pacific Coast Highway. You know, when you see the promenade with the palm trees, the sandy paths between them, the low fence, beyond which is the ocean? Like you see in the movies. That's the view from the living room. You can see the Santa Monica pier to the south, and the hills toward Malibu toward the north. Sailboats are on the water, people on the sand. It is quite spectacular.

On Sunday morning there was some kind of race on Ocean Avenue. Happens a lot. The street was coned off on one side. There were many red t-shirts but I couldn't read what the cause was. 5K and 10K. My favorite runners: a man pushing a jogging stroller with a full size English bulldog riding. The young kid in a white dress shirt and green tie (which went with the green shorts). The dad pushing the twin jogging stroller, with twins riding.

When I was in Santa Monica over the last 6 years, I did not spend enough time at the actual beach. I decided that it is important to me to go every time...It's frustrating to be so close in the apartment, and not actually be on the sand. At night, I peer through the blinds and watch the waves rolling in. If it's not too cold, I open the window and listen to them crashing. So this time, I insisted and went down Sunday before dinner. It took only an hour...15 minutes down, 15 minutes on the beach, close to the waves, listening and smelling, and a half hour back up the hill. It's a good walk.

Cards and emails keep arriving. Hugs too, even via email are welcome! I am working my way through some of the books, and they are very helpful. Thought-provoking.

So I'm counting in weeks. It's now been three weeks. Most likely the longest 22 days of my life.

It was a good visit with my father. I can't remember when I was last down there. Some talking, some walking, some eating, some sleeping, some discussing of politics. Nice quiet time.

Things I have recently encountered as difficult:
*Arriving at the airport and not being able to call to say "I'm on the ground in LA. We'll talk more when I get to the apartment."
*Pinning the purple PANCAN ribbon on my shirt in the morning.

Ketzl is happy to have me home, I think. The asparagus need to be replenished tomorrow. The tomatoes need to get into the ground.

Process. Order. One foot in front of the other. The journey continues with one step, then another. Still in blur mode. But moving slowly ahead.

A Celebration of Linda's Life

Well, all the ducks are in a row, metaphorically speaking. Some key people have been contacted, times cleared, etc. Here is the information:

A CELEBRATION OF LINDA BLAUNER KLEIN
Sunday, May 18, 2008
6:00 - 8:00 PM
Social Hall of Temple Emanu-El
1010 University Avenue, San Jose CA
(one block east of The Alameda)
Heavy appetizers and desserts
We'll provide some; feel free to bring something to share.

RSVP to my home email so we can have an idea of how many to expect.
Feel free to tell others who might not be reading updates here on the blog.
Have them RSVP also. I will be sending some emails before I leave for Los Angeles.

Looking forward to seeing you in two weeks.

Whether or not you are able to attend on the 18th, please think about sharing a Linda story. (This means that out of towners can also share a memory!) Send to my home email, or bring something with you on the 18th. We did this when my mother died, and the collection of wonderful words is really very special.

Thank you friends, for your continuing support, especially those of you who sat with me during services last night. I really appreciate all the hugs.

Cat Stories

So I showed the cantaloupe to Ketzl, the slightly bumpy free one. And he "marked" it, rubbing his face on all sides of the melon. I cut off the first slice and couldn't get it down into the bowl quickly enough. We played "bat the mouse," with him sitting on top of a perch, me tossing the mouse up, Ketzl unerringly whapping it with his paw, me retrieving it. This went on for as long as I could take it. Then he became a wild thing, running around the house, digging into boxes, having a wonderful time, letting me know he missed having someone to play with while I was gone all day. Jeremy came home after a wild and wooly day of his own, and also fended with the cat. Finally, Ketzl retired to the warmth of the bed, in a perfect pike position. What a cat!

Wow, it's Friday morning already

Two really good books (from BookBuyers in Mt. View, a fabulous used bookstore where I went after dinner Monday night with Fran Bellet) kept me up late last night: "Good Grief: Healing Through the Shadow of Loss," by Deborah Morris Coryell. She comes from the Jewish tradition and heads the Shiva Foundation in San Luis Obispo CA. Shiva is both the first 7 days of mourning in Judaism (from sheva, Hebrew for seven) and Shiva, the Hindu god of destruction and creativity. Cool. The 2nd book is "grieving mindfully," by Sameet Kumar, a Buddhist working out of the Mt. Sinai Comprehensive Cancer Center in Miami Beach and Aventura FL. Coincidentally, that's where Audrey is right now, playing tennis and golf.

From Good Grief: The only difference between stumbling blocks and stepping stones is how we use them. (Susan Salisbury-Richards) "..it is the presence that we continue to have after we are no longer present that acknowledges the power of our being. Our deeds, our actions are the way we make our presence felt in the world, and to the extent that we continue to influence and impact people's lives after we are dead, we continue to live."

So let us allow Linda to influence our lives. Let her live on in you as you organize your papers, see a butterfly, get a bargain (see below), play with your pets, enjoy a good meal, find a rainbow, sing with enthusiasm, and especially, dance with complete joy.

Tonight's dinner at Fusion (oft mentioned in Linda's blog) with Nath Brophy was delicious. I love introducing people to the wonderful creativity of Yung Le. And of course, sticky rice with mango for dessert. That was in Linda's honor because that was the dessert she and I shared at a Thai restaurant the first visit she made to California, August 1999.

One person minus newspaper subscriptions: much less recycling. Reduce that carbon footprint, I say.

Bargain story for the day: Before dinner I stopped into Safeway to get a cantaloupe for Ketzl. If I'm going away, at least he should eat well and there is still asparagus. But they were $4.99 each (I know, it's not summer and they are shipping in from Central America...not great but..). So I love the cat but not $5 worth. So I found one that had a few bruises and asked the produce clerk if she could mark it down, as it was destined for my cat. She said that if she were going through the melons, she would probably throw that one out, so why didn't I just take it home with me. I would have been willing to pay for it, but I got it for free. "What would Linda do?" Try to get a deal. It worked. All I had to do was ask.