Weird thing about grief

I’m grieving the fact that my horse Drew has gone to greener pastures (literally, east Texas, where it’s damp). I’m grateful for all the very kind words from many of you. It will just take me a few days to feel more centered.

At least I’m happy that I got my fig tree that friends were holding for me. Yay Figgy.

Today reminded me of something I’ve noticed before when I experienced grief. I get really accident prone. This is apparently a known consequence of grieving, in addition to memory lapses and decreased spatial senses (thanks AI). I didn’t put 2 and 2 together and figure out why I was so “off” today until this evening. Now I get it.

Like this mushroom, I’m not quite right.

Nothing bad happened, I just had odd accidents. For example, I was operating the gate to go to the garage and somehow got my thumbnail stuck in the link of a chain in the locking mechanism. That caused me to drop the can of Precious Coke Zero I was carrying. I extricated myself without breaking my freshly painted nail. But when I got into the Jeep to go get Figgy, I foolishly opened the can. Soda all over my clean jeans. Sigh.

Not broken nail.

I later dropped the phone (it’s fine) and scratched myself on the gate to the chickens. At least I got two eggs today!

Connie can squeeze out some big ones.

And finally, after serving myself some comfort ice cream, I sat down to eat it, and it all plopped out of the bowl onto my cute shirt and the already soda-stained jeans. Sheesh.

I’m off, too.

I have heard that horses “grieve” the loss of a herd member. I wonder if the remaining four here are grieving or having the most relaxed day in years? I’m not sure. I did ride Apache today, as you could guess from the photo above. He’s getting back into the swing of things again, though being sick hasn’t helped the progress. He did great in the round pen today, but as soon as I walked him out of it, he did an Apache fit and I thought he was going to buck his way back to the barn. But, ha! I remembered the one-rein stop. He stopped.

He had a look on his face like he was very disappointed I remembered how to do that. And I competently got him to follow or lead Dusty and Kathleen around the outside of the pen until he quit thinking about exiting. At least Tarrin taught me something!

My vision for the future. So many chickadees.

Things will improve, I’m sure. We got some good rain this evening. And I got through another Mother’s Day burying my grief over my estranged son. It helped that my other son remembered me and so did my bonus daughter up near Dallas (two weeks until her son is due!).

Oops. The weather service just called. Big storm coming. Lee is bringing Figgy inside the screened porch!

Pausing for Grief

My friend Gail died today. She was one of my small circle of high school friends who chat frequently. So, today am taking time to remember this strong, resilient, funny woman. Probably gonna do more of that tomorrow.

Four of us who struggled through high school together: me, Anita, Gail, Jana

I feel the worst for Jana, who lost her best friend today. Wow they were lucky to have each other to share tragedy and joy.

Jana, her husband Reggie, and Gail

I bet Gail had no idea what she meant to some of us. We need to remind those we care about that we do care, through ups, downs, absences, and all that. Go hug your dear friends, or call, or text. I did a lot of that today. So glad for true friends, old and new.

We also lost this sweet high school friend recently. His presence is missed. I keep wondering why I haven’t seen him in social media.

And the tarot cards were eerie again. Yesterday was the 9 of Swords, grief. That was me, knowing Gail was failing.

Also that lady kind of looks like Gail

Today was 6 of Cups, that healing circle of friends.

It looks like our group, with one friend transformed and swimming off.

Counting Birds and Holding Steady

What luck. This weekend is the Great Backyard Bird Count.

This provides me with a perfect excuse to sit outside in my chair for hours and track what birds show up. I needed that healing time, and the peace of being outdoors. Since there was a break in the weather and the sun came out, I got a lot of healing time out of the break.

It was so green! But frigid air is returning.

Plus, I found 46 species of birds today, which will be great for the count. We’re so lucky here that I can see water birds, woodland birds, and meadow birds (like Meadowlarks!). Even a duck flew over, an American Wigeon. I wish ducks liked our ponds more, but they mainly attract shore birds. At least mostly all the winter sparrows and the Pipit showed up: White-crowned, White-throated, Savannah, Vesper, Field, Harris’s, Song, and House (technically an Old World species). So many little brown birds. I just love watching them, the Cardinals, the Chickadees, and the Titmice searching for tasty morsels.

Chickadee eating

Okay, so when I wasn’t birding I did my nails, which always distracts me for an hour each week as I try not to wrinkle the polish or put them on wonky. These look pretty cool.

Pink, the February theme color.

I was writing up the Master Naturalist meeting minutes in my office and kept thinking I saw Goldie on the sofa. Or couch. I had to make it look different and not remind me so much of her or I’d dread going in there. So, I washed the cover I’d put on to try to prevent more damage to it. But, then I remembered how filthy she had gotten the upholstery by getting on it when dirty or skunked or bleeding.

Hey, I helped with that and am still here!

So I got out the upholstery cleaner stuff and went to town on that grime. I guess that was the equivalent of our nephew digging a giant hole for her burial yesterday —I poured my sadness into scrubbing. And it worked. The fabric looks way better and smells less “doggy.” I now remember how I’d decorated the room, too.

Hopefully tomorrow I’ll take my grief out on the muddy and bur-covered horses. They were pretty icky looking when I fed them.

Muddy buddies

Anyway, thanks for your good thoughts and kind words. I’m feeling very cared for today. If you ever wonder whether words of sympathy after a loved one (human or not) passes are helpful to the bereaved, I can tell you they are.

Cute Birds and Bittersweet Memories

It was the best day in a long time for bird watching. Between my observations and the Merlin Bird ID, 51 species were found on our property. That’s pretty exciting for me. But more exciting was how entertained I was by all that I saw. Yes, I’m easily entertained. You knew that.

I swear this little White-crowned Sparrow looks like an egg with a tiny head on it.

I saw a beautiful Harrier swooping over the fields late this afternoon when working with Apache the Wonder Steed. We both watched.

Then right at sunset, while I was watching and listening to the sparrows (Harris’s, White-throated, Chipping, Song, and White-crowned) as they rustled through the leaves looking for bird stuff, something flew by. It was the Great Horned Owl heading to a tree. Thirty seconds later, it hit the ground. I guess it got a mouse. Spectacular.

I didn’t like that. What if the owl was after us cute songbirds? Circle of Life, yeah yeah.

That really helped me get through a hard day. It’s now six years since I heard from my son. He was a great kid. I hope he’s enjoying life. I think he is, and that’s good. I just miss this little charmer.

33 years and 8 months ago, 4 generations.

As the two older generations in that photo are no longer here to talk to, I’m the older generation now. My cousin Jan and I have been talking about that, since her dad, a good friend of my dad’s, passed a way a couple of days ago. We’re the elders. That feels so strange.

Three generations, me, Mom, and Aunt Belle, my grandmother’s twin. I was a senior in high school.

I hope I can stay in contact with the generation after me. Maybe someday my son, but if not, it’s his decision and I respect it. And I’m fine. I just allow myself one day a year to mourn the loss that I really don’t understand. Grief is always lurking.

My parents and me in 1958. I knew they loved me, even if none of us were perfect. Dad was 27. Mom was 36.

Once again, I ask you to stick close to your loved ones, your friends who support you, and your community. We need each other.

Quick Hello

I’m not able to write much, due to not only work and figuring out all this moving stuff, but also because I’m sad. A good friend from my volunteer past, Terry Stafford, died a few days ago from a stomach cancer that came on fast and hard. That’s the one that seems to hit people I particularly love.

Here’s sad ole Suna showing how to move more things to your permanent house. Wear them.

Sadness is to be expected, but I’m actually pretty overcome with fear. You see, some of her children stopped speaking to her years ago, saying some things about her that she didn’t understand, and didn’t want to try to work things out. It broke her heart and caused so much pain, but nothing she tried helped. She died unable to reconcile with them.

I’m also transporting these boots. Clever.

What a sad thing. I don’t know the whole story, so I’m not blaming any party, just sad that they couldn’t work it out. And I’m now coming to realize that could happen to me. After 2.5 years, will my older son every decide to let me know what his issue is? I sure hope so. When they said parenthood is hard, I thought they meant the early part. This grief is always there, even as I learn to live with it.

Meanwhile, I learned today that one of my favorite speakers in our Master Naturalist program, Dr. Alston Thoms, passed away in June. He was supposed to be our speaker last month, and that explains why we hadn’t heard from him. Read his obituary to learn about a life well led and a person who truly loved all of humanity, all living things, and the land.

Well, hope your day is going well. Hug people you love.

Grateful for Insights

I was feeling pretty crummy today. I guess grief hit me hard.

This Horace’s duskywing butterfly reminds me of how things get better no matter how dark it is

I asked my Facebook community friends to share things that brought them joy recently, thinking it might help. I was smart. It did help. I highly recommend reaching out and asking for help when you need it. It will remind you that people ARE good.

If you’re my Facebook friend, check out my post asking for joyful moments. All the happy babies, cute pets, fun stories, and nature observations remind you of all the beauty and love around us.

Sample cute baby, the amazing Ripley, who is getting her first teeth

How I’m Doing

Grief is hard, even when you intellectually know all about how it works. I hadn’t cried in so long that I couldn’t recall the most recent time. So I’d forgotten how much it takes out of me.

Being on Prozac for the last couple of years has helped me a lot, but I can see how it’s separated me from expressing some emotions. They’re there, but not all on top of me. It helps me from drowning in my empathic tendencies. But yow! When something breaks through it has physical consequences!

This mystery plant never bloomed last year, but it came back! Plus, lots of basil is coming back from last year’s plants

I have had the strange headache I used to often get. It feels like something gently squeezing the sides of my head. And I forget to breathe and end up gasping. That’s annoying. My words don’t come out well and I have trouble swallowing. Ooh, and let’s not forget the chest pains, my old friends! At least the weird neck tingling that used to really bother me hasn’t kicked in.

So, those are all my anxiety symptoms I used to live with every single day. How did I manage? How do others manage? I sure feel sympathy for them. If you have anxiety and are functional, you have my admiration.

This gerbera daisy got knocked back hard in the cold winter. It looks like a new plant now! I will also recover

I’m guessing I’ll feel better soon. Grief is normal and can knock you down. Soon the grief will bloom into love and warm memories of our canine friend, Brody.

The photos are all of my plants that have resurrected themselves after the winter.

I actually thought squirrels had murdered this poor plant, or the cold had killed it begonias are hardy, like me, I think!