Yesterday, I was struck with the notion that I should not take on any new responsibilities or ties for the next year. Considering that I am still knee deep in PTO and LEND, means that the year could not start until school lets out this summer. And considering that Julia will still have her uber therapy time, cutting myself off from the work I do -- right now, all volunteer -- will not change the day to day as much as if I was childless, or even therapy-less. Also, so much of where I like spending my time is based on a school year, I would have to forgo involvement for the same calendar. On first blush, I worry that I will "lose my place" -- as if I am traveling with a pack and will be left behind. If I do not do a second year of LEND next year, would they consider me for the next? If I ramp down my PTO participation, will people want be back a year later?

What I am wondering about is whether I am ready to face myself for a year? Could I, without distraction, clean out my inners and outers? Can I renovate my house, get rid of old furniture, clean out boxes and boxes of books that have not seen the light of day since David and I moved to Madison 3+ years ago, and do that outer cleaning that i don't even know about yet? Can I bear such an intense time?

Then again, ideas to throw myself into seem to be littering the street. Do I pick up a few and not concern myself with the scrubbing? Last week's cleaning of my own closet pushed me over the edge emotionally. Not bad, at all, but intense. Could I do that day after day without the distraction of interpersonal interaction? Could I do that and continue to maintain and build my community?

I don't want to get stuck, and I feel like I have such a potential for that. I could take a year for "cleaning" and get nothing done, or I could continue as I am and still be looking at the clutter that I need to clear next year.

And of course, this does not have to be an either/or decision. But it does need to be a directed decision -- a projected leaning. Even moderation takes intention.

And no comments about "waiting." Official announcement: I've stopped waiting.

. . . cause I built my life around you . . .

So, one more post with tears before I go to bed.

I was teary off and on all day. Umm, on and on all day. Doing chores, driving Julia around to therapy, and cooking, I'd sing the single line -- I've been scared of changing 'cause I built my life around you -- and tears would come without further bidding. The main task of the day was cleaning out my closet and drawers. A task that has been on the list, the bigger list that almost never gets taken care of in the midst of stuff life heart transplants and death. We had talked about a grand clean out, a paring down, a releasing all the useless baggage that we accumulate for years without thought. All the stuff that we collected to live with, not because we liked that stuff for the most part but because we needed some stuff to sit on, to sleep on, to put out stuff in. And some of that stuff we moved from NYC to Bloomington to Indy to Madison. Some of it is still in boxes from the move over three years ago. Further testament to how unnecessary our stuff really is. But now, I have to deal with the stuff and our plan to get rid of it. Alone. And getting rid of stuff puts me that much further from David. But living in a house that is cluttered in a way that We had always talked about changing does not make me comfortable and happy.

Dammed if I do . . . and if I don't. Walking right through the muck of this day, this grief. Walking through without flinching or turning away. That is the work of the day.

And I have gotten rid of most of the clothing that is older than Cheshire!

And so, with all that baggage, I cleaned out my closet and cried. My heart cracked open and wide. I don't know whether I cried more when I sang, "I've been afraid of changing" or when I sang, "cause I built my life around you." Both and each.

How lovely to have had the chance to build my life around someone. Around David. How lovely to have had to give up some of what I wanted, to watch him give up some of what he dreamed. How lovely to compromise and to want some things and people and places together. How lovely to build that life.

And what I take from this day and these tears is the vow that if I ever get the opportunity to do that again -- build a life around someone -- I will do it better. Not that I could have improved in the way that David and I build our life around each other, but next time, I will not take it for granted. I will not take it as if it was due to me. I will appreciate such an opportunity every day.

In truth, for some time, I have been appreciating a whole lot more. Every day. Every smile. Every kindness.

I am watching "Eat Pray Love" tonight. For a moment, I fantasize that if I did not have Julia to raise, I could go to Italy, and India, and Bali, and eat and pray and love and recover from all the mourning and grief. Then, I recover from this fantasy, I see that I really rather be raising Julia than indulging in purely personal recovery, that if I ate in Italy I would be fat, that if I went to the ashram I would indeed get malaria from some mosquito, that lovely men at each stop would not fall over themselves to be in my company, and that I am where I belong.

First I read:

"By far, however, the most emotional moment of my time in China came one night when I was able to meet with a group of older orphaned teens I had watched grow up over a five year period. Every time I would visit their orphanage, I would enjoy getting to know them more. They all seemed so close, such good friends, and they always had smiles for me when I arrived. That night, however, was a night when the kids finally let their guard down. It was a night of real conversation and sharing what it means to grow up as an orphan. Toward the end of the evening we were all in tears. Afterwards, one of the older boys stayed to talk with me privately . . . . [H]e told me that growing up without a mother or father “hurts more than death.” Children aren’t supposed to raise themselves. They are not supposed to grow up alone, which I know sounds impossible when you are growing up in a crowded orphanage." (http://www.lwbcommunity.org/on-my-own)

Then, I wrote:

“Hurts more than death.” I know what death hurts like, more than that, I have no idea. Of course, you know I think of one girl, but I hurt for all those others too. My heart cracks wide open. Would that those words touch so many more.

Then, I listened to Stevie Nicks' Landslide:

I've been scared of changing because I built my life around you . . .

And now, I can't stop crying.

I wrote this to a friend today, and with a bit of editing, this is where I am at today:

I was so sick for my birthday -- I told a friend that I couldn't even grieve that David was not here for the first time in 30+ years. I will reserve next birthday for that. Today, I am happy to have a head off the pillow and to want to wash dishes and fold clothes. Nothing like enjoying little things.

And of course, it is snowing. I am cocooned into my house and I am loving it.

The longer that I live the more I see how the opportunities to love and cherish should not be ignored. They don't litter the path but are more apparent when seen with an open heart. I believe that there is something that draws us together. Call it God, the Universe, Spirit, a soul's longing, whatever. We are part of a whole that informs, calls out, exhorts us to make love the answer and the reason.

As I write this, I am reminded of the joke about the man and the flood that eventually kills him. Upon arriving in heaven, the man marched over to God and said, "I had faith in you, I prayed to you to save me, and yet you did nothing. Why?" God gave him a puzzled look, and replied "I sent you two boats and a helicopter, what more did you expect?"

That's where I am today, chuckling with and at a god who would look at me exasperated and say, what more did you expect?

So that was about the snarkiest comment ever! The last blog entry, that is. I laugh today.

More seriously, which is all I seem to be able to be these days, I was thrown by those close to me saying I was not ready to move on and make decisions. Even decisions that would change my life. Moving on is such an impetuous idea. I remember when David's father decided to get married again -- less than a year after Inez died. I was rather amazed by his decision but even at the time, David and I realized that his parents had lived with Inez's terminal condition for a while. Her death was expected and I am sure that Dad had been in the midst of mourning, oh, not exactly mourning, but something akin to it, for a very long time.

I can understand those who counsel waiting for everything, but when change comes from within, then I think it is time to move. Rearranging a room, giving clothes away, throwing away some of the paper that man generated may seem like safe actions to take. Actions that I might regret at some point for some reason I don't know now, but safe. They may look safe from the outside, but only I know what is safe from the inside. And although my actions might seem wild, crazy, and unconventional from the outside, that is an illusion. I am listening to my soul these days.

And I have to because there seems to be little else for me to do! Still, needing huge naps and lay downs during the day, but a doc visit assured me that I certainly have a nasty flu but nothing else. I will recover and I need patience. So, I examine my heart and soul and I lay bored and sleepy on the couch and bed.

As for my dinosaur, we have had almost a week of going to sleep by herself. Yahoo! Yesterday in Speech Therapy, her therapist read 4 sentence stories and asked Julia questions. Julia was able to concentrate and answer almost all the questions. The therapist also used "inference cards" -- picture and question cards, that demanded an answer that went one step beyond the picture. Granted these were very easy, but Julia could do them. She is understanding picture cues, she is able to predict what logically follows, she is able to infer, she is able to generalize. That brain of hers is so busy. I have read that our brains learn at incredible rates when we are very young and slow down by certain ages. I wonder about the rate of learning increasing for children like Julia. Who has done the study on that? Someone surely.

I have a rhetoric questions to all those who feel it is too soon for me to make major life decisions: Can I get rid of all the old furniture from dead family members that David and I used (instead of buying our own) over the years? Is it time for that decision?

At least a morning, an early morning, feeling somewhat better. Dizzy and achy legs (weird that the achiness of the flu has wound up in my legs) but with a drop more energy than this past week. I want to get back to exercising that I was doing so well with, but I'd also like to get through the day doing some organizing. I was just reminded by a comment (thanks, Sharyn) to rest easy. I can't forget that today. I feel like I have been "kinda" sick for too long and I need to start moving or I will go nuts. On the other hand -- I need to ensure complete recovery. I am not seriously sick but I can't lose patience with naps and early bedtimes.

For those concerned, I am seeing my doc today. This has gone on for about 10 days and I need to just make sure all is on the mend. I am appreciating the insurance that I pay so much for -- I could complain sometimes but I am also fortunate enough to afford it and to use it!

My school materials for this term grow and I've been piling the books and research print outs and print outs from class. It has been living on top of the tall boy set of drawers Julia dragged it all to the floor -- one of our bones of contention, her getting into my things. But it is a mess of stuff and needs attending.

That feels like a lot of my house right now -- David and I had planed to do massive cleanings of our stuff that we brought and could not use in this smaller house. Then my mother died and I brought some of her stuff here -- mostly boxes of documents and pictures, but still needs to go through. David's father also dumped some schanker stuff on us. And then all of David's stuff. I've been putting it all off. And I needed to do that, but I have the feeling of drowning these days. I need to divest and live that simpler life.

And I was asking for some direction for the next year! LOL! Is clearing my life of unnecessary stuff enough for me? I shuttered at the thought of a garage sale. No, I don't think I am up for even the planning of that, but I want less stuff, less clutter to move from place to place.

And a Julia update: She made me a card and on the bottom it said, Illustrated by Julia Dinosaur. Sometimes I think that grammar school is such a waste for this kid.

There are days when I feel alone. I miss that ability to have a live-in best friend who has a stake in my future. I am wondering right now, how I should plan out the next year. I wonder whether I should apply for some work, whether I should take on some new volunteer project, whether I should not be busy at all.

I have been very fortunate that since David died, I have been able to put one foot in front of the other and do things that I enjoy and that have kept me busy. But PTO responsibilities are going to be over in May -- should I take on some larger project like that? I've recently started working with the Families with Chinese Children in Madison and I could give more time and energy there. I am interested in the gradual loss of Madison's music program in schools. I could be interested there. But all of this seems to be on the fringes of my interest.

I've enjoyed LEND tremendously -- I am learning about disabilities, trauma, leadership of sorts, policy making, etc., but I don't see clearly what my role can be in that world. I do not want to do policy/advocacy work which is a bit unfortunate because as a lawyer I could possibility have some credibility pursuing that. I am not really interested in research which is fortunate because I have none of the qualifications needed. I probably cannot engage in treatment with kids because (whether I would enjoy that) I have no qualification.

The idea of running a transition foster home in China for older kids on the adoption track is of great interest. And I know that if adoption changes in China, there are other places that could use this type of program/home. But I can't consider taking on this project in any form until and unless Julia is ready for that kind of life. She is not ready for that now. I have guessed that she might be in 4-5 years, but I doubt it could be sooner. But then how to spend those 4-5 years. How much of my time should be devoted to preparing for something that I cannot put a date on.

I have not considered living a totally selfish life -- doing for me and for Julia, of course, and nothing else. Going to the gym, having lunch with friends, making nice dinners, taking care of us, fixing the house for our enjoyment, traveling. A friend accused me of being selfish in thinking about adopting another child with the prospect of leaving Julia and another child as Cheshire's responsibility if I died suddenly. No amount of assurance that I would take care of the futures of my minor children, seemed to satisfy. Another child would bring a sure path for me, I know that. And would that be so awful? Some advising me think that it would be foolish to set down a path I could not alter so soon after David's death. But what is it that I am supposed to think about doing? Do I putter on the fringes of causes for the rest of my life? Do I take another course, volunteer for another committee, and wait to see what comes up? For how long? And why? I cannot see that something better, something more appealing, something more . . . . I have no idea! is coming along?

Yes, I will keep working and asking questions. I will keep my eye open and ears to the ground. When I was in heavy grief, I was content to just do what I had in front of me without examining future prospects too much. I couldn't really examine much. Now, I think I can examine some but apart from Julia I don't know where to put my focus.

Looking for clarity these days.

Julia and I had some bumps yesterday and I yelled at her. I hate yelling at Julia because I know that it is counterproductive. She either digs in her heels and get more angry at me than I can ever be at her, or she closes down and does not respond. But she repeatedly does things that I feel are bad behavior and no amount of reasoning and asking or telling her to change the behavior works.

Julia has been taking my things from where they belong, especially books. She takes a book, a shelf of books down and leaves it where it falls. I have told her over and over that she can do this to her own books in her own room, but not my books. I've told her she cannot leave books anywhere she wants. I have helped her clean up what she does to my stuff, and I have made her clean up alone. None of it seems to make any impression.

So, last night, I started taking things away from her. When she takes out my cook books and leaves them on the floor, I take her crayons and put them out of her reach. When she empties the book shelf by my bed, I take the clay. I explained consequences and she told me she doesn't want to talk about it.

And it doesn't help that being sick extinguishes any patience that I might have.

I feel like i don't have the answers here. And it is frustrating.

A very successful haircut

Getting better but after a few errands this afternoon, we are going to call it a day and not go to church tonight. After we got haircuts and did a bit of coop shopping, I was regretting not making the effort to go away for the weekend. Two hours later, I am on the couch and down for the count. I hate being sick.

Julia's cut looks very cute. Shorter than she's had home, but she wants to take care of it herself. Tries to wash it in the tub and comb it in the morning. Even shoulder length it is too much for her and it looks a mess too often. Slightly longer than ear length she may have a chance.

And it looks to cute.

I needed to get some passport pics taken and thought doing it right after a hair cut might get a decent picture. Oy! I have little vanity about my looks, but these are AWFUL pictures!

Correction: I have lots of vanity! I hate taking really ugly pictures, even for my passport. Okay, I've never taken good pictures. Maybe I should get another set taken. It didn't help that my hair cut didn't work out the well either. Either I am going to have a grand pity party or a beer, or both. Pretty pitiful for the day before my new year.

Enough! Enough feeling sorry for myself. I'll put away the groceries, plan on cooking tomorrow, defrost some of my great chili, open a beer, light the duraflame, play some Mario Brothers, and hug my kid.

I missed David today is a casual way. In a he is away from home and I can't get in touch with him sort of way. I had a good meeting for a PTO event, a frustrating phone call about the Bloomfield house, I was looking forward to my class this afternoon, and hated leaving before it was over because I didn't have someone to cover my for childcare. And I just wanted to tell him that stuff -- to complain, to crow. Nothing at all important.

In the pain and grief, part of me, some more physical part had forgotten how it was to miss him without doubling over.

And now, I remember.

Needing someplace to cheer. Quietly. Julia is in bed alone and this time, tonight, said she could fall asleep herself. I am not counting my chickens yet, but yahoo!

In the weeks after David's death, Julia snuggled very close to me and always wanted my arms around her. If I turned in the middle of the night, she either positioned herself to still be touching me or in my arms or start whining. She was aware of every time I went to the bathroom. She needed every bit of that closeness and I did not deny her, although I did feel very crowded in my king size bed and suffered lots of little aches and pains due to sleeping too long in a single position.

It is such a path we walk. Yes, she is still sleeping in my bed . And I have no intention of putting her in her own room until she asks for it. But she has been sleeping deeply and well and sometimes very long for a few months. And it is harder to wake her up -- normal hard. Isn't that wonderful?!

One more Julia-ism. On the way home from school, out of the blue, Julia told me she was never going to have a baby growing in her tummy. She was going to adopt (said, 'dopt) babies. She does have a pregnant teacher who is showing now. I wonder if that has anything to do with the announcement. I did tell her adoption was wonderful, and she told me, "I know."

I wanted to write about one more Julia accomplishment.

She went to sleep by herself last night!!!

Now, honestly, Cheshire has managed this at times, but neither David nor I could do the night time ritual, tuck her in, and kiss her and leave the room. Whether it has been in her own bed or mine (or ours when David was alive), Julia insisted that one of us lay down with her. There were times when it was hard for her to get to sleep, and it was a real pain to lose an evening of grownup time to laying in bed doing nothing. Both of us were pretty determined to give Julia what Cheshire had in that way. (We did the same with Cheshire until she was about 5, and who knows how it shaped her, but she turned out pretty well.) I can't put a definite finger on it, but we always knew it was important.

Since, the fall, I've been asking Julia to do more dressing and undressing for herself. So, I tell her to go upstairs at bed time, put on her pjs and put all dirty clothes in the hamper. That is a lot of directions for her but over time she has gotten pretty good at it. I still go up for teeth brushing, but she gets the tooth paste on the brushes (hers and mine) before I come up.

We then read a story or two, and I turn out the lights. Also since the Fall, I have stopped just laying down with her and now, bring my laptop in the bed and do work (or not) as she falls asleep. This started because I needed more time for school work.

Last night, I tucked her in and had to walk the dog (I usually do it before I come upstairs, but not last night). I told her I needed to walk the dog and she told me she was going to go to sleep. And she did.

Frankly, I was astounded.

The flu has started its wane. I napped once yesterday but was able to stay up late without agony. I am whining and I am a big baby about being sick. I can't wait until it is over.

A few wonderful Julia things this time 'round:

In attachment therapy, we continue to work on the volcano workbook. Three of the last four weeks, Julia has asked to work on the book. Marilyn does a few pages a week depending on the content. The book is set up for the child to be read to and then given a drawing assignment. When we started the book, Marilyn was not quite sure that Julia could handle the directions o Julia's drawings this week were quite breath taking -- one of a sad and hurt heart that was exploding with anger, and another of a very sad heart that released some of its anger but not in a hurtful way. She was careful to make the pictures mirror each other, but with great differences in color, expression and tone. When Julia talks about what she is doing, her use of language is not close the sophistication of her pictures. I carry around the nagging feeling that Julia will never be able to live independently and need life long services, but then she draws. The part of her brain that does art is in no way cognitively delayed. That part of her brain is sophisticated and growing. It can regulate itself and its output more and more.

Clearly, Julia is also drawn to the healing work. It does not come easily for her. Some weeks, she does a certain amount and then tells Marilyn to stop. I think I see some reaction behavior at home sometimes, and there is some at behavior at school -- a bit of being whinny and also wanting more control. I have been explaining it to teachers and they have been very receptive.

I don't know any other child like Julia, and so I have no basis for comparison. I am both patient with the changes I see and just dying to scream out for prognosis! How far can she go? Will she progress in school along conventional lines? Will she ever have real friends? I can be afraid for her cognitive abilities, and then when I see how hard she has to work through trauma and deprivation to make progress and to learn, I wonder at her genius. Which is it? I want to jump ahead and see where we get to. My believe in process has never been tested as it is these days.

I am coming to the believe, hard won because it is all field work, that early trauma must be worked out first. First, before anything else. The attachment and trauma work go hand in hand and sometimes are the same, sometimes veer off in different directions. Every other learning seem to take a back seat to this work, although maybe the principle interest of the child -- art and dinosaurs in Julia's case -- grow with this trauma work.

Tonight, I could write on this forever but I need to get back to sleep for a little while.

Conventional Wisdom

I have been thinking about the idea of conventional wisdom for the past few days. I do not easily disregard it these days as I am older and somewhat wiser myself. But I also do not and cannot accept it without question. I have not been conventional in my life. Julia, my greatest teacher, is learning about "why" these days -- the reason that things happen, the difference that some reasons make. My child who needs learning in the past and future informs so much of my present. I have made so many life decisions ignoring conventional wisdom and truthfully, have not been punished. I want to know the reason behind the rule. It is that that I wonder about. I have been in search of my highest and best self for a long time. After the trauma of the last few years, I have grown at least a little bit in clarity. I don't expect to really recover from the trauma that I've experienced. It has become woven into my day, and I expect woven into my best self. I lived and breathe the loss of my beloved partner. I don't expect to ever recover or get past the loss. I expect to live with it and make it one of the companions that inform my life choices.

As for adopting X or any other child for that matter. I did not expect to make such a decision last month (I was leaning heavily on conventional wisdom,) but it was this particular child who moved me. Still, there were safeguards already inherent in the system and in this decision. Adoption, especially from China these days, is a long and tedious process, and the informal pre-formal process that I am in right now has gone on far too long. I expect rejection (and I expected it even when I asked. The ice cube in hell has nothing on me). Still, I don't regret the asking. It is bringing up so much good thoughts and discussion. I know I grow from it.

And if I was approved to begin the formal process of adoption, the process is taking at least a year, 15-18 months is probably a better estimate. And during most of that time, X will know nothing about it. I will have the chance to consider and re-consider the wisdom of another child considering those most beloved by me without involving X. Although I used the words wild and crazy, this is my code for living the unconventional life. It is not strictly wild or crazy to fall in love with this child. She needs a family, no one wants her, and I might be the best chance that she has. And she is a dancer. I can raise another artist.

Finally, some of what I do might be considered generous and open hearted. We do what we do because we enjoy it. I have more than reaped the benefit of every open hearted and generous act that I have committed. I constantly want to say to my very lovely community that they have done so much more for me than I have ever done for them. But I also find the need to commit and re-commit myself to the generous life because my family of origin has never lived in this way. I was taught a miserliness of the heart, and I admit, I fear it can still return.

I am feeling better enough today to compose. I have some reading to do for tomorrow's class, but I need a nap before I dive into it. I am a better sick person, that is, more patient and willing to take the time and care for myself, when I can see progress. I do need this time on the couch.

Unpaid adverts

Just a quick plug for what looks like a good book: Carl Safina, author of THE VIEW FROM LAZY POINT: A Natural Year in an Unnatural World, whose NYT book review I quoted in the last post, wrote a commenting plugging his book. It reminded me so much of David in a way that I have to tell you, dear reader, to check out his website, http://carlsafina.org/. He does appear to be a very interesting man with some thought provoking ideas.

And his book might be very good book club material.

And . . . closer to home, check out the Forward Theater's Monologue Festival (http://www.forwardtheater.com/forwardtheater/on-stage/monologue-festival-the-love-that-changed-my-life). David's “An Evening with Jon Jones” will be performed in February. Jon, and his partner, Jim, were great friends of ours who lives were ended in the waves of AIDS deaths. I still think of them so very often. I will be the one with the kleenex box at the festival.