Shortly after Hubby died, I read Chasing Daylight: How My Forthcoming Death Transformed My Life by Eugene O’Kelly. O’Kelly was diagnosed with cancer and given maybe three months to live. His book is about what he wanted to accomplish and how he determined to live those remaining 100 days.
April 6 is National Walking Day—of course, we don’t need to wait until then to begin walking—and so in honor of this monumental occasion, I just finished walking the 3-mile loop of the Deschutes River trail. As I did yesterday. And will do for part of Friday date night. And am scheduled to do Saturday morning with a friend.
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If you’ve lost something of incredible value — your health, a way of life, someone who is precious beyond words — then it is important to grieve. To take your time and grieve in your own way.
At some point, though, it will be to your advantage and good health to set aside your deep sorrow and take a stab at living again. And while you’re learning to live again, see if you don’t become more attractive in the process.
It’s New Jersey’s spring break and I’m vacationing somewhere in the United States with Son-In-Law Josh, Daughter Summer and the six grands.
Hint: 1) The tallest brick lighthouse structure in the U.S. is in the vicinity; 2) We are in a house on stilts; and 3) There are quite possibly more seashells on our back patio in plastic buckets than on the entire beach at this point.
In 1967, psychiatrists Thomas Holmes and Richard Rahe created the Holmes-Rahe Life Stress Inventory, designating a mean value for each major life event. For example, death of a spouse was at the top of the scale with a value of 100 points, while retirement from work was assigned 45 points.
* 150 pts or fewer equal a low susceptibility to stress-induced health issues
* 150-300 points imply a 50 per cent chance of a major health breakdown within two years
* 300 or more points raises the odds to 80 per cent
I scored 372 points. But then, I’ve always been an overachiever.
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I have no idea what’s happening this year with March Madness. And it’s all Hubby’s fault. He used to set up a Johnson family March Madness pool each year. The winner received acknowledgement and a coveted small trophy at the annual family reunion.
This recent post to Facebook from Brother-In-Law #2:
Photo credit: Marlys Johnson
What is self-care, and what does it have to do with you or me? I like this simple explanation from Family Paths:
Self care includes any intentional actions you take to care for your physical, mental, emotional and spiritual health. … It can also be an important part of the healing process.
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Hubby and I lived with a couple different expiration dates. At time of diagnosis—because he was relatively young and in good shape and because prostate cancer is slow growing—the experts gave him two years. A little later, a different doctor projected another five years of life.
He beat both expiration dates.
Snow-shoeing in the Cascade Mtns nine years after Hubby’s terminal diagnosis
I’m dog-sitting two beautiful girls. 14-year-old Sadie and 2-year-old Charlie. Both Labrador retrievers, but Charlie has an added mix of crazy energy.
A pine cone from the yard is her favorite go-to *ball.* The first time we came indoors after playing, Charlie snagged a decorative pine cone off my desk. Look what I found! Does this mean we can keep playing fetch?!
I made her drop it and — while gathering up other low-lying pine cones — Charlie found a softer ball.
“If you didn’t mean for me to play fetch with this ball, you shouldn’t have left it in a basket on the floor.”
A year ago, not too long after Hubby died, I relocated to Southern California where I learned to stay off the 405 during certain hours; enjoyed fabulous fish tacos from a hole-in-the-wall place on Venice Beach; rode DIL Denise’s pink-rimmed bike to grocery store, beach, post office.
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