Grief and Goals

 

My dogs are dying.  (Yes, I know "we are all dying..." My dogs are terminally ill--with cancer that's rapidly advancing.)  It feels unbearable.  I could go on and on about how they are the most bonded pair I have ever met, how they were diagnosed with the same (rare) lung cancer exactly two weeks apart, the expenses and guilt of choosing palliative care for this senior pair, the rollercoaster of the past four months, the lack of sleep, the INTENSE anticipatory grief that won't let up and the fact I know the grief to come will be even worse, the fact that these dogs saw me through over a decade of military wife life as my constant companions in a world of chaos...  I realize that many people are struggling and I am fortunate to have so many privileges (like the financial ability to do all that I can for them and a flexible work schedule to spend time with them).  But these dogs are my family--they have pulled me through some tough times.  My time and energy have been dedicated to them in so many ways (especially recently) and my self-worth and comfort, I realize, are largely wrapped up in that bond.  I am so lucky their lives have been spent with me--we've had so many adventures and wonderful times.  I used to say the only time I was ever truly happy and in the moment was when I was walking my dogs.

All of this comes down to the fact that I hurt physically and mentally in a way I have never have before.  I have lost dogs before--dogs that I loved deeply.  I have never lost two dogs at essentially the same time, with a full-time demanding career, with huge family commitments, during a global pandemic where I have been isolated for a year.  People have suggested I journal about my feelings.  I don't like feelings/emotions--especially the ones that are so hard to feel.  But I do realize that I USED to write about my trials and tribulations with my pups.  I realize that I once found a blog about a dog who had the same disease as my Sampson, and reached out to the author who gave me some solidarity and support during that tough journey.  Maybe this will help me.  Maybe somehow in some way someone will find this and it can support them.  Or maybe I'm just rambling with no reason or purpose because I am so desperate.  Regardless, here I am--after a LONG hiatus from this virtual space.

I'm trying to figure out how I am ever going to make it through this still standing.  It seems impossible.  But I have a daughter (and husband, career, family, and friends)--so I have no choice other than to try--not just try, but stay "still standing."  I'm searching for any way for some GOOD to come from this tragedy.  I can't fathom how that is even possible, but I have to hold on to something to keep me putting one foot in front of the other and functioning on some level these days.  I am working on living in the lessons Daisy and Claymore have taught and continue to teach me, not the least of which are to live in the moment and love unconditionally.  I hope I can come out on the other side of this stronger somehow.

Speaking of strong, the one thing I have been making sure I do during this time is exercise.  I've always been dedicated to fitness, but it has taken on new meaning.  We got a Peloton last year (I may have joined a cult but that's for another post...) and back in December I committed to trying to do at least one activity every day for a year.  That doesn't mean I have to do a hard bike ride, but SOMETHING Peloton offers--even if it is a 5-minute stretch or meditation...something that forces me to focus on that goal at least once per day.  So far, I've kept it up.  Today, the weather was actually nice (after a ridiculous month of insane winter weather) so I went for a run in my neighborhood with the Peloton app.  I've been riding much more than running these days.  (I am now 40 and my knees and below often feel like I'm way older than that.)  But I thought about the fitness goals I have had before.  I wonder if I could run a half marathon again?  Not for speed or time or even in a formal race, but just to have a goal to help push me through this grief.  So, that's (maybe?) my goal...by my 41st birthday.  I'm putting it out there.  And I will try.  If I fail, I know I can do 13.1 miles on the bike.  I just hope I can make it through this seemingly unbearable time still standing...

When I grow up...

"Every day you make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of that journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy of the climb."
--Winston Churchill

Age 5:  When I grow up, I want to be an astronaut, a movie star, or one of those people who run the checkout register at the grocery store.

Age 8:  When I grow up, I want to be a lifeguard, or maybe an Olympic gymnast.

Age 10:  When I grow up, I want to be a teacher.

Age 12:  When I grow up, I want to be a veterinarian.

[7th grade--A friend is in a horrible car accident, leaving him with TBI.  I spend many hours at a pediatric hospital for head trauma]

Age 13:  When I grow up, I want to be a physical therapist.

Age 14:  When I grow up, I think I really do want to be a veterinarian.

[I take a biology class--not my thing.]

Age 15:  I don't know what I want to be when I grow up.  Why are we talking about this?

[Buzz, who I have been dating for nearly 2 years, joins the Marine Corps]

Age 17:  When I grow up, I want to be a Marine wife.

[I enter college and have to make decisions on what I want to be when I grow up]

Age 18:  Uh, when I grow up, I want to, uh, be in banking?  [Buzz and I break up as I am in college in VA and he is stationed in CA]  When I grow up, I want to be anything but a Marine wife.

Age 19:  I don't like accounting.  When I grow up, I want to be a physical therapist--that will be so rewarding.  [Volunteered for a summer at a pediatric physical therapy clinic]  I can't be a physical therapist--I'm way to emotionally involved and I would be a wreck all the time.  Hmmm, I'll be an economics major--it's still business but I don't have to take any more accounting.

Age 21:  [I graduate college and get a job as a commercial credit analyst at the bank where I have worked as teller and as a clerical assistant]  When I grow up, I want to be a VP of this bank.

[I'm miserable at my job.  I hate sitting in a cubicle all day.  I decide I need to go back to school and go back to the teller line, where I can be around people again, while I make some decisions...and start taking sign language classes.]

Age 21 1/2:  When I grow up I want to be a teacher.  I'm going to grad school to get a master's in education.

[Re-enter Buzz, our engagement, and marriage]

Age 22:  Oh good grief, can I ever have a career?

[I enter graduate program for deaf education, begin working at a elementary school for deaf kids.]

Age 23:  When I grow up, I want to educate deaf kids.

[Job at the elementary school is too emotionally draining and I can't finish that program before Buzz gets restationed.  I enter the master's in applied sociology program at the same university]

Age 24:  When I grow up, I want to do something with sociology.  I will go get my PhD.

[I decide it's time to start a family because Buzz will soon be deploying.  Pregnancy finds me immediately.  **YAY!!!**  No immediate plans for PhD school--only mommyhood]

Age 25:  When I grow up, I want to be this little girl's mommy.

[After being a stay at home mom for a year, I start teaching community college part-time]

Age 26:  I mainly want to be a mommy, but when I grow up, I want to teach.  Wait, I miss working with people with hearing impairments.  Maybe I want to be a speech-language pathologist--then I could do both.

[I apply and get accepted to a distance education program for SLP.  Buzz gets ready to deploy again.  I can't handle the program with a 2 year old.  I realize I need to get my priorities straight and decide not to begin said program.]

Age 27:  When I grow up, I want to be a mommy--and maybe still teach community college--but probably just part-time.

[We find out that Buzz will be restationed near a Research I university with a sociology program.  I apply--late--and still get in.]

Age 28:  When I grow up, I want to be a sociologist--though I don't know if I want to concentrate on research or teaching--and, first and foremost, I want to be a mommy.

[PhD school is very hard and demanding--it's even rougher with a family and all the challenges of military life.]

Age 30:  When I grow up, I want to be a mommy--why did I go back to school?  Well, maybe I'm just upset...when it comes down to it, I do still want to be a sociologist, too...I just don't know if I want to go research (most of the time, I don't but the thought crosses my mind), teaching, industry (probably not), or non-profit (that sounds rewarding).  I just want to get out of grad school, then I will work on making these decisions, based on where the Marine Corps takes us.  Wait, why is my daughter telling me what she wants to be when she grows up?  I don't want her to grow up so fast!  (sigh)  Well, back to my own school work...

Moral of this story:  Sometimes you go 3 decades with many changes and challenges in your life, you may be working on a doctorate and STILL not know exactly what you want to be when you grow up.  And that's okay.  Grad school is not a cop-out for me--as some have suggested--so that I don't have to make this decision.  I know that this field will lead me to the right thing--and give me options if my tastes change.  It also gives me the flexibility to spend summers with my daughter and I have had more at home-time with her WHILE doing something in pursuit of a career.  Complicated?  Absolutely!  This doesn't change and seems to get worse with age, education level, and Marine wife life.  Do I take conventional routes? No.  Decisive? No.  I'm not conventional or decisive except for the fact that mom is my #1 job...and everything else will work itself out.  Part of the fun of deciding what you will be when you "grow up" is the journey that takes you there.

A simpler time...

I'm linking up again today with



Head over, listen to some great tunes, and add YOUR song!

I've been away for a while.  Well, I've been right here but I've been away from my blog quite a bit because every second at the computer is (or at least should be) devoted to school work these days.  (Sigh)

But today, I'm back with a GREAT song and even better memories.  Do you have a song that gives you chills?  Not because of the words or meaning of the song itself, but because of how it makes you feel?  Well, this is one of those songs for me.



Flash back to a college summer, at the beach, with a few friends--a couple I would like to forget and one who was one of the best friends I have ever had--ever.  We'll just call that one "B."  And, first of all, may I say that I get constant criticism (mainly from my husband) that a male and a female cannot be true friends without some sort of "romantic" element.  Well, I don't believe it, because through high school and a large part of college, B and I were super-close amazing FRIENDS of the opposite sex.  But anyway...  Back to that beach trip.  We were a few stories up at our oceanfront hotel, sitting on the balcony having a few drinks (we were, of course, all 21 by then...or something).  The restaurant next door had a second story outdoor restaurant and every night we were there, the same guy played the guitar and sang.  He was okay--not the best, but he was just what we needed on our vacay.  Somehow, at just the right moment one night, he broke out with "Main Street."  No lie, we wrapped our arms around each others shoulders, swayed and belted out the words to the song ourselves as if we'd been practicing for months.  Also, no lie, the people at the restaurant turned around and applauded us.  Awesome!  We ended up  hanging out at the restaurant and the guy who was singing.  Instant friends, of course.  We requested songs from our balcony the whole week--with Main Street as THE ONE.  It became my and B's theme song.  For a while. 

B and my lives went separate directions soon after that week at the beach.  We would see each other off and on.  Occasionally we would hang out.  Later we might just bump into each other downtown or something like that.  I got married and moved away and his life took him away, also.  Every few years we would manage a phone call, but that was about it.

Over the years, "Main Street" has remained one of my faves.  Every time I hear it, it takes me back.  It warms my heart.  It reminds me of things that are good in the world and there is joy in a simple moment.  It helps me recognize that change is inevitable, but is just a part of growing, even if sometimes that growing means growing apart from others you always assumed (and hoped) would be in your life.  Military life has taught me that some friends come and go in your life, that some friends are there for a time or just to serve a purpose for a short period--but they are all friends who color your life and make you who you are today.  This has helped me better accept the loss of close relationships with some friends, but that doesn't make them any less important in your heart or lessen the strength of their friendship in shaping your world. 

Recently, B and I have been back in touch a little bit more. It's not like it used to be, but I am glad we have not fallen off the face of the earth to each other.  Sometimes, I miss the simpler times when the most important things in our lives were what the weekend plans were and if we could get through to the radio station to request Main Street.  But, then I flash back to reality.  I love my life.  I wouldn't change it for anything.  My husband, my daughter, my dogs, my house, military wife-life, my path to PhD-dom.  All huge responsibilities, all amazing, somewhat complicated, but all perfect...for me.  But that doesn't negate the power of a song that can take me back...or the amazing friendship that lives on even when it may not be as close as it once was.

Okay, I take back a previous comment...one line in the song has meaning from the words itself:  "And sometimes even now when I'm feeling lonely and beat, I drift back in time and I find my feet...Down on Main Street!"

Is the grass really ever greener?

The grass is always greener on the other side.

I'm not sure how I feel about that old saying.  It's too real and it disturbs me.  I try to be a big believer in mind over matter, but sometimes my mind is working against me so that sort of defeats the purpose.  But I always think, if I can just get through this next paper, this next class, the next exam, the upcoming trip, the latest deployment, until the next raise...THEN things will be better.  But, once I pass the milestone of the minute, life is still happening.  There are still more hurdles to overcome.  There are still barriers standing in the way.

But does any of that matter?  I've written before about my quests and attempts to live in the moment.  And these things go for the good AND the not-so-good.  For example, while I keep wishing time away during the tough times, I worry about the good times being over too soon.  Vacations don't last long enough.  Days off go by too quickly--or it rains.  But does any of THAT matter?

I looked back at some pictures from not that long ago.  I've aged.  It's grad school, I'm sure of it.  I've kept my youthful glow through Marine Corps issues, moving way too often, and being a mom.  Grad school has brought on the grey and the crow's feet...and a few extra pounds.  But does any of THAT matter?  Plus, I do feel lucky that I still get carded for adult beverages and I still fit in my old clothes, even if they are a little more snug.

So, who cares if the grass is greener on the other side?  Green grass grows fast and I don't like to mow anyway.  I should embrace the grass on MY side, even if it's a little dry and brown.  And right now, while I'm uncontrollably stressing out over my upcoming comp exam, I am truly working on being thankful for the opportunity and the experience--even in the stressful moment.  I'm working to enjoy the rainy days--you can still play Princess Yahtzee and other fun stuff inside.  And those vacations have to be over eventually--otherwise they wouldn't be so amazing when you DO get them.  And I started this blog as a way to chronicle this whole grad school experience in the midst of motherhood and Marine-wife-life...so, I am using this as my outlet to say it to help make it true. 

And, on another note, we recently had family portraits done at our house.  It was so much fun!  Here's a pic of me and my old man--who doesn't let the grey or the extra pounds (well, he's lost the extra pounds on his new diet) get him down. And he enjoys every walk and every meal equally--loving them all.  I've said it before and I'll say it again, we can learn a lot from a dog!



Age Stratification--Highlights of a mildly wild almost-decade

I really feel old. Well, I don't FEEL old, but I feel like people look at me as ancient relative to them. Maybe it's being in the college atmosphere again at age 29; maybe it's the gray that has popped up in my hair since deployments became a part of my life; maybe it's that my friends and husband are all hitting the big 3-0 and it's around the corner for me.



Last night I saw a tv show and then today a professor was talking about living wild and crazy in your 20s. Does all the fun stop when you hit 30? I mean, if age IS just a number, then what's the deal with this? My definition of fun (as well as the practice of fun for me) has changed throughout the years. But I think maturity is GOOD thing, not a bad one. You can still grow on many levels and keep a sense of excitement, right? At first, after hearing all of these references to having fun in your 20s, I thought that maybe I had missed out on something. And then I started freaking out because I have less than a year to get the fun in. Then reality (or whatever my social construction of reality is) hit me in the face. I HAVE had a great time in my 20s--just like I did in my teens--and just like I hope I will in my 30s, 40s, 50s...and hopefully into really old age!



So I decided to take this opportunity to reflect on some of the highlights of MY 20s...starting at age 21 (21 and 5/6 to be more precise) because that is when Buzz reentered my life...and THAT is when I allowed myself the opportunity to redefine my life and take it in a positive direction. And that direction included LOTS of fun (with quite a bit of craziness--I did enter the USMC family at age 22).



Just to (probably over) qualify the list below, this by no means discounts the fun I had before my 20s--like the infamous "ice cream summer" I spent with my cousins, aunt, and grandma where we got ice cream every day as a kid, Sarah and my summers in high school with Shoney's weekends, beach week with my best friends... Nor is it to in any way discount or minimize that my 20s held absolutely the best, most important, magical time in my life that has made me who I am, was the best decision I have ever made, and filled my heart with a love that words cannot even begin to explain--becoming a mom. AND I want to reiterate that great moments didn't all have to include alcohol--like the "Cheers night" when Buzz and I went Walmarting and raced to put fans together for his mom, watched Cheers, and I realized he was the one in the simplicity of the moment; or the many Sonic, Exchange, Walmart, Food Lion, Commissary, Target, Coldstone, Old Navy trips I have taken with my girls; or the homecomings from deployment when, for a minute, time stood still in the arms of my husband and my daughter.



Qualifying over--here's the list:



Walking to the liquor store in multiple feet of snow with some friends AND Sampson because we drank all of the alcohol in our houses and needed more. (Best line of the night--our neighbor backed his car down our street where he had just passed us and said "I thought you were high schoolers!")



Screaming the SpongeBob SquarePants theme song at the top of our lungs in an old-ass car full of Marines and wives while bar-hopping.



The E-club in RI (too many random stories to recall here)



Buzz getting his microphone taken away during a botched attempt he and other Marines were making at a John Denver song on karaoke at a redneck bar in RI (yes, there are redneck bars in RI) by a butch lady.



At that same bar, having an older woman (lacking in some teeth, but I'm not judging) sexually assault one of our friends while telling him that she reminded her of her son.



Playing life-size chess (drunk) on a ship somewhere between FL and the Bahamas.



Drinking in the front yard with Brad and Erin (you would have to live in base housing at NAS Jax to fully appreciate the gravity of this one).



Doing the wave at the Deli to my dad's friends' band and spilling drinks--so many memories from that night.



Lots of commissioning parties.



Breaking bowling lanes in Jax (AKA the REAL Jacksonville).



Dressing up at the Mario Brothers for Halloween.



Gangsta New Years 09!



So they're not THAT exciting...no one got arrested or streaked or did anything TOO regretful (which is all what people apparently consider to make it a "good" story). And this is by no means an exhaustive list. But it was all SO much fun!!! And I have lots of good memories from my 20s and hope to make some more this last year of the awesome decade. But I hope that there is even more fun to be had as time goes on...I mean, it seems that with time, you can have all of that fun and even more with the knowledge from all of your previous successes and mistakes. The possibilities for what's to come seem amazing! Plus, isn't 30 the new 20?!? I'm just getting started!

If you're only as old as you feel...

I'm doomed! I am feeling ancient these days--lack of sleep I assume from all of the craziness of and recent changes in my life--including the anxiety of what is to come. (Though I am SUPER-excited about starting my PhD program. Nerd alert!) Thank goodness I have my daughter and my pups to help keep me young. I don't have the choice to just shut down--though my thyroid likes to try to get me to do otherwise.

Anyway, on the topic of age, what I really wanted to do was tell another K story. She says the funniest things and I never remember to write them all down. Although for a while I was writing them down on a pad of paper and that's one of the things I have not recovered from our latest move. Lesson learned--I should have written that stuff in her baby (or not so baby now) book at the time and now I am trying to write them down here while I still remember them...but I really hope I find those notes.

I digress (as usual). Anyway, Buzz and I went out to lunch at one of the few places we agree on in terms of food this afternoon. K wanted a hot dog from Sonic, so we gave in on our way. When she thanked us for stopping and getting what she asked for, Buzz responded "We'd do anything for our Princess." K responded "I'd do anything for my old people."

So now we are officially old people, I guess. When I got pregnant I told Buzz that we would never again be cool. (This was assuming we had some amount of coolness pre-pregnancy.) He argued that we would still be very cool--cool parents. Yeah right! As we have gone through a few childhood stages together, I see just how my coolness level is going down. As an infant, we are absolutely the coolest things in our babies lives--mainly because they don't know what it means to be cool yet and we do everything they need. Then they start developing independence but they still need and WANT you there so much. We are now entering a phase of serious independence. K often asks me if I can go somewhere--meaning that she wants to hang out with someone else without me there. (And she hates it when I see her dance and gymnastics shows. She tells me it's no fun when I'm there and she wants me on the outside of the glass wall.) And now, I'm old. :) But I cherish this time--she still wants me around sometimes and I don't think she has yet fully realized my deficiencies in the cool department (though I think we are on our way to that epiphany.) I already miss rocking her to sleep in my arms. I remember thinking back then how exhausted I was to still be up and how tired my arms might get from holding her but knowing that one day that would all just be a memory. And even now, in my old-person state of exhaustion, I am thankful for every second she wants to play and spend time with me...and that she still says she'd do anything for this old person. My little drama queen is growing up and we are enjoying the ride while taking time to cherish these little moments before I am not yet TOO old and still cool enough to hang out with my little lady. (Is cool even still a term I can use, or am I showing my age?)