Life Goes On

daddies liliesDoug has been dead for 3 some years and my dad for some 4 months.  I’m still here trying to live without the two of the most important men of my life.  Both of them loved me unconditionally.

I have been fortunate.

I planted 15 lilies in memory of my dad – 13 for his men in Vietnam that he lost in that terrible battle and 1 for Marybelle’s father and 1 for him. They are blooming and the scent is spectacular as are the flowers.  They’re way ahead of schedule and over-achievers – much like my dad.

I’m learning to live without Doug – my constant cheerleader. If we’re lucky, we all have that one person who cheers us on and motivates us to do our best.  I had two – my dad and Doug.  I miss them both so much.

Candles, Candles and More Candles

the family room coffee tableI commented on Facebook that I have a lot of candles and the attendant candle holders. Once I got to thinking about it, I was, truly, astonished.

I wandered about the house taking photos of candles and candle holders. I do, quite literally, have candles in every room of the house.

stained gloass and candlesI don’t light them as often as I should.

If I lit them all at once, the barn would probably burn down.

There is nothing, almost nothing, I guess, that isn’t improved when viewing it by candlelight. I know that I love how candles (and oil lamps of which I have more than a few) soften the harsh edges of life.

I’m always ready for the frequent power outages even if I do bitch about the lack of wifi.

candles on the bookcaseDoug, too, enjoyed candles and many of those that I now have were his.

It’s been a long time since I’ve lit the house up and wandered from room to room marveling at all that life has given me. I love my home.  I love my candles.  I love my candle holders.

social work candleI am too fond of stuff and, hopefully, my newly adopted meditation practice (more on this tomorrow) will help me loosen the bonds of stuff, but, mostly, I find my treasures to be blessings and not burdens. Mostly.


There’s a great purge coming.

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Day of the Dead

day of the dead 5Today is November 1st and the first day of the Day of the Dead. My reading gives me to understand that the first day is for the children to celebrate and that November 2nd is for the adults. No matter. It’s November 1st and I’m missing Doug.

A few months ago, I wrote of Doug’s slippers and how they lived under the chair in the master bedroom. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them as it seemed as if I did he would be well and truly gone. They’ve been there for more than two years now.

day of the dead 4Today. Well, today, I threw them away. Yes. Threw them away. I didn’t want anyone else wearing them – they’re too personal and too important – we needed a clean break.

I had heard of the Day of the Dead but it was Doug who taught me to appreciate the holiday.

In the Mexican tradition, it’s a time to honor those that have gone before us. To remember and to respect and to love.

I miss Doug always, but, today, when the veil is thinner I have looked over my shoulder often to see if I can catch a glimpse of him. No luck so far.

I miss him. I would love one more glimpse. One more touch. One more moment.

I loved him. I do love him.

Throwback Thursday: Me at Doug’s house about this time of year

dougshouseIt’s Throwback Thursday and I’m in an impossibly good mood.  Things are going well in my life and that’s such a change from recent years.  I’ve mentioned before that the Raising Sand album my Alison Krauss and Robert Plant has been one of my mourning staples.  I’m far enough in the grief process that I no longer cry when I hear these songs — they just provoke wonderful memories of Doug.

I’m in my office at work — lunch at my desk — and rocking out to the album.  I’m happy, but I do miss him.