Addendum

So, I thought this blog had come to a close. Of course, life throws curve balls and we are forced to deal with them. Dan passed away on February 27. Literally dropped dead. A heart that was restarted, but sadly, too late to fully recover. Decisions that were easy, yet incredibly painful. And now, here I am with a path ahead that does not include him.

I've been blessed to be surrounded by family and friends who have managed difficult tasks, guided me through tough decisions and continue to watch out for me. This town of Safety Harbor really has been a safe harbor for me. Friends across the country have reached out to express their sympathy. I have a pile of cards filled with beautiful messages. I am so grateful for each and every person who lifted me up with kindness and care.

As I reflect on almost 46 years of marriage, and over 50 years of being together, I feel blessed. Dan was a truly amazing man who challenged me to live life in a big way. We created and raised two incredible men - my boys are everything to me. Carl has enhanced my life with a beautiful wife and granddaughter. Hunter has a wonderful partner. They have all been so supportive, checking in and providing wonderful opportunities to visit and recharge.

My life has changed considerably. I mean, cooking for one? Lonely days and nights. Waves of tears. Frustrations about daily activities, car and house stuff that Dan always happily managed. Dan's doberman Sieben, who is now my foster dog, gets me up in the morning and continues to need love, walks (always a challenge) and attention.  

One finds a way to cope. A soothing meditation of coloring books and gel pens quiets the brain. I've filled so many pages. A lovely late afternoon glass of wine with neighbors who brighten my mood. Friends who have stepped into the Dan void to help with Sieben and give me a break - I can't thank them enough. An afternoon spent in the pool with friends and a picnic of good food. The volunteer work and the incredible people I volunteer for and with - such amazing support from them as well. "Three Musketeers" Friday with my wonderful sister and brother-in-law gets me out on a weekend evening. A personal trainer who gladly fit me back into his schedule, telling me he was planning to chase me down if I didn't call soon.

Our love story should have lasted longer. I'll take every minute that we had and cherish the memories. Tell your family you love them! I miss Dan's voice saying "have I told you today how much I love you?" (That might be my second and last tattoo!?) Don't pass up that opportunity to share your heartfelt emotion with family and friends through word and action. Life continues for the living and I am learning to live with this loss. There will be no closure, just acceptance and an embrace of all the wonderful people and things I still have.

Love to you all and thank you for checking in.

Paula

Bag of Excuses

Recently Dan spent much of a Sunday afternoon whining about why he wouldn’t be able to go to a two-hour exercise class at 4:00. I reached the threshold of listening to his whining before I took out a paper bag. With a wide-tipped marker I wrote Bag of Excuses on the outside and handed it to him. “Here, take this along and hand it to the instructors. I’m sure they’ll care.” Conversation over, we moved on with the afternoon, went to class to get beat up and left feeling a sense of accomplishment.

Let’s face it, we all have a bag of excuses we bring out on occasion. Lately I’ve been rummaging through mine as I find myself being coaxed down the path of a potential Big Decision. And what is it that drives big decisions? For me, especially at this time in my life, it’s the hope that something will be better. But is it? I’m torn, and suspect it’s located in the bottom of that bag—the excuse “I’ve matured beyond thinking that different is better. It’s not, it's just different.” I gotta call bullshit on myself. Different has at least a 50% chance of being better. And when you factor in a climate that gets a lot less snow, you are talking a passing grade* no matter what. Except the friends. We’d miss the friends. But that’s a blog for another day.

Like most folks I spend 50-60+ hours a week in gainful employment. Lately, I’ve been experiencing “cognitive dissonance” with my job. I believe that the core of what I do to make money also makes a difference in the lives of many others. My job provides critical information that helps my employer improve the workplace and connect in meaningful ways with thousands of employees. And yet, as I complete the tasks to support this lofty goal, I feel like I was left behind. Apparently I’ve achieved a level of competence that does not require feedback; I’m fine when left to my own devices and decisions. The irony of the situation is not lost on me.

Nature abhors a vacuum. (As do the dog-faced boys, but again, another blog…) So does the brain. Lack of feedback from people I imagine should care leaves the brain to fill the blanks. In my case, the space is filled, at first with a sense of confidence, followed closely by self doubt, then the feeling of being an annoyance to others. This became the ideal incubator for someone to slip in with an offer of something better. As I walk down this new path and explain all the things I can do the encouragement I’m getting is a like wonder drug. Yes, I am that good. (Note that I left out the F'ing word between “that” and “good.”)

Ultimately, should this come to fruition, it would require Dan and I to pack up and move across the country. Which is the point of this blog – figuring out how to pack up and move to a whole new place. But I wasn’t planning to do that this year. I expected to move years from now--not anytime soon. While I’m not faced with any offer or decision just yet, this has been a wake-up call. Everything I pull out of my bag of excuses challenges me and asks if I’m ready to make a move. As I examine my bag of excuses I’m not sure how or if they will be different five years from now. “I won’t know anyone.” “It will be a strange city.” Blah. Blah blah.

I am reminded of a recent Dan story—on a field visit Dan didn’t push hard enough on a pipe installation, and a young construction employee came up, took the pipe out of his hands and slammed it home. “Put your purse down, Sally” was his comment as he walked away. Dan was happy to know his folks were comfortable enough to tease him, and has used this as a metaphor for making sure we are pushing ourselves as we look ahead.

Put that purse/bag down, Sally. Making a move would be a tremendous mental challenge. Dan will need to stay behind to sell the house. What about the dogs? What about the parents? The cars? The refrigerators? All my dishes!?! God, that stupid bag of excuses is getting heavy! Time to set it down and walk away…Sally. We’ll see. 

*In Grad school I was silly enough to call Dan to complain about my first A- on an test. The phone went dead, and I thought we’d been disconnected. When I called back, Dan said he’d hung up. He still had flat spots on his knees from falling down and thanking God for a C-. Hearing someone whine about an A- was abhorrent. Message received.