Grief: Dizzy with the good and bad and bad and good

I'm sick.  I have bronchitis.  My daughter is giving birth probably on Dec. 18th and I have bronchitis.  How crazy is that?  I am taking every medicine I have been prescribed and hoping I will be better by then.  I can still be in the delivery room if I'm not better but will have to wear a mask.  I hate being sick without Artie.  Not that I liked being sick with him.  However, it's lonely and scary not being able to turn over and ask, "What should I do, honey?"  I miss not having my back rubbed and the look of concern in his eyes.  Who am I kidding?  I miss everything every day.  So there.  However, I am LUCKY that I am sick in a way that I will heal.  Too many people with cancer in my life.

I did my first radio show today.  Managed to get enough voice back to talk.  The link is  http://www.blogtalkradio.com/fogcitypsychic/2011/12/07/out-of-the-fog-living-with-grief.  The show is archived so you can listen whenever you want.  The first half is Glenda Pearson - the second half is me.  Talking about grief.  What else?  But - dancing with grief.  Like so many of my blogs - here's the painful bit - here's the joyous bit.  Here's the bit that's bittersweet.

Artie's birthday is creeping up.  December 11th.  I wish he could be here.  I celebrate his birth - always did.  I will probably cry though.  Want to buy him a present but there isn't much a dead man can use.  I'm telling you my snarky sense of humor saves me.  I hope it doesn't offend anyone.

A lovely man Ladd McClurg is posting on Facebook five things he is grateful for every day.  He says it changes how you feel. I'm grateful that Karen asked me to be on her radio show, I'm grateful that some people understand how I feel, I'm grateful that my daughter is having a baby and I have a friend who made her a hypnosis CD with jazz music to help her with her labor pain, I grateful that I had a grilled cheese sandwich, I'm grateful for modern medicine.   That's not so hard.  Even on the worst day I'm grateful for indoor plumbing.  You try it.

When I go to Seattle I'm going to be happy to be supporting and loving my daughter.  I'm going to love my grandbaby.  I'm going to miss my support system.  I hope I can cope out of Artieland.  I packed his Yankee jacket, the teddy bear that he gave me, and his pajama tops to wear.  There are already a zillion pictures of him in the tiny apartment I rented near my daughter's house.  I know his spirit is with me everywhere but I need physical bits of him to touch.  He once said to me (if you believe that the fact I still talk with him isn't my  imagination - I'm not sure myself) "I'm not in my clothes!"  I know that.  But I like to touch something and I can't touch him any more so I touch his things. 

Kevin Allison of RISK is going to help me find places to perform my stories and maybe have me do a regular podcast when I get back to NYC  in the middle of January.  I'm proud of myself that I asked.  I was surprised and flattered that he agreed. It's what I said in the last post.  It's about showing up.  I don't miss Artie any less than I did. I seem, as time goes by, to miss him more.  However, I'm able to show up more and do more things.

Of course, I still watch DVDs and eat bad stuff as well as good stuff.  It's okay to take care of myself.  How do I learn to take care of myself by myself?  I got spoiled having Artie take care of me.  Living alone.  Flying alone.  Sleeping alone.  Even if I fall in love again and get married again the part of me that loves Artie will still be alone.

Ah well.  That's it.  Spin around, spin around and maybe we will land somewhere grand that makes us laugh - even if only for a minute - or an hour - or maybe even a whole day.

I'll be at a conference first - from December 8th-12 in Phoenix and then on to Seattle. I'll try to write often but may not be able to.  I'll be thinking of you all.  Maybe this year the holidays will be easy or easier.  Maybe the remembered love and laughter will be enough to carry us not only through but up.  Keep showing up so that the magic can happen.  Live for yourself but also for the joy of those who aren't able to live for themselves any more. Thank you for being there. Thank you for being fellow grief warriors.  xo