Thanks to online South Carolina Traumatic Brain Injury manual

Understanding the Grieving Process

It is important to remember

that different people react differently to the grief they suffer over the loss

of the family member they once knew & loved; the one who was energetic and vital, who may have been the prime provider and support system for the family. Some individuals respond by involving themselves completely in the rehabilitation process of their family member. They deal with insurance companies, doctors, rehabilitation providers and government agencies. In a way this helps them gain some control over their situation. Others may not be able to come around for a while. They may bury themselves in other projects and with other responsibilities. These individuals will need time to reach a more comfortable level of accepting what has happened to them and their family member.

There is frequently a grieving process that one goes through when his or her family member suffers a head injury.

The process is often experienced in definable stages:

denial;

anger and frustration;

depression and withdrawal; and

acceptance

If your family member engages in constant verbalization about a concern of his, do not allow yourself to get trapped into worrying with him. One person is enough.

Unrealistic Expectations

It is often difficult to be realistic about what you can expect from your family member. These expectations also change as he makes changes. It would be wonderful to be optimistic about his progress and to will him to return to his old self, but realistically we know this seldom happens. Often, this type of optimism keeps us going. However, being overly optimistic, and not realistic, can be counterproductive, especially if it leads to setting goals you or your family member can't meet. It can give both of you a sense of failure, which is counterproductive to the rehabilitation process.  If possible, take the recovery period one day at a time without planning too far ahead. In essence, the right mixture is optimism tempered with a touch of realism.

Learning to Love Again

Unless your family member has had only a mild bump on the head (and sometimes even then), you will find that he is a somewhat different person from before. Now that he is coming home you may be fantasizing that he will be his "old self." You will be disappointed if you are expecting this, so do not set yourself up for this letdown.

As time goes by you will probably see changes indicating that your family member may never completely return to his original personality You may feel that you are living or sleeping with a stranger.

You will need time to adjust, so give yourself this opportunity If it is your spouse who is injured, you may need to seek professional help to assist both of you in redeveloping your relationship.

In trying to reshape your relationship with your family member, another issue you have to deal with is a change in family roles. You may have to adjust to the fact that your spouse is no longer the dominant one in the home or in the relationship. You may have to assume that role. You may also have to adjust

to the fact that he may not be as active or assertive as he was before his injury.

Learning to adjust to these changes and renewing your love for your partner can present a significant challenge.

Suggestions

Talk to him the way you used to.

Let him make as many decisions as possible.

Ask his opinion, even if it is not necessarily needed.

Take time to reestablish your relationship. 

This time is a learning process, and you will have to discover new things about your loved one.

The right side is really the LEFT side when looking at scan...

 

Martha and Giving Thanks

Last year I purposefully painted the kitchen floor (silver glitter sparkles!) making it "impossible" to cook a traditional meal.  I felt rebellious, angry, and sad, as we marked and endured the 2nd Thanksgiving after our son's suicide.  John bought frozen turkey potpies and the four of us left at home sat solemnly around the table.

A month ago, right after Halloween, I turned over in bed and announced to my husband of 27.5 years that we needed to have a social Thanksgiving.  Invite strangers over that would make us duty-bound to celebrate. 

Our Utah children were at my parents in SLC, cared for, fed, a chair for them at the table.  I was not worried about them.  Samuel is Elder Landbeck in Arizona, and I was confident one of the members was taking care of him and his companion.  We had our daughter home from her mission and our 15 year old baby.  Again, four of us, which seems like every dinner every night.

We invited two families from church with young children, an older couple with family out of state, and a young widower, 22 people!  Twin toddlers, an au pair from Argentina, happy kids on the trampoline and swings in our backyard were wonderfully noisy and full of life.  I gave away the plaster horse bust, made sure left-overs were bagged and in the fridge ready to go home with everyone.   I was so busy Thanksgiving Day that there was no time to mourn, no time to grieve or be sentimental about missing anyone. 

It was not until 2:30 am, after the flurry of cooking and chatting and cleaning up and 5 hours of sleep, that I had time to be still.  As a family we read Matthew 15  (or 16?) last night and the theme was "Abide."  I have never thought of that word as something I wanted to do.  It sounds too much like being still.  I caught myself in another scripture: the commandment to "be still." Jesus Christ urges us to "abide" with Him.   That sounds so quiet, relaxed and not busy, really not me.

John eventually woke up from his cough medicine-induced sleep and I told him my middle of the night thoughts.  I had spent the whole Thanksgiving Day purposefully busy and full of strangers that left no time to think of Maxwell or dwell on him missing from the table.   Asking for help to apply the Atonement to my grief, my missing Max, praying for others who have lost loved ones--hoping they are okay this weekend and comforted, knowing their holiday dinners are lacking everyone they wished were there, too…

John pointed out the burden of Martha (Martha & Mary, sisters) of staying busy, worried about details, maybe sharing that driven, and work ethic of busy-ness that I feel all the time.  I have to stay working because there is always more to do, more to take care of, and stopping makes me have to think, crescendos the feelings of sadness and loss.  Talking about feelings makes me feel them stronger.  I wallow, and am swallowed up in the intensity and become non-functional, unable to continue to do, work, move.  The work keeps me balanced, but it can be frustrating for John who wants to discuss, draw out the thoughts and feelings, analyze and put in perspective what is happening.  I want the words to disappear sometimes.  I do not want to sit still, by discipline or knowing that it will be harder to start working again.  John wants to plan, be thoughtful and make sure the discussion covers all contingencies, order the tasks, and visit, plan for the after action reports, etc.

How do I take time to be in the moment, be quiet and feel the Holy Ghost testifying that Heavenly Father loves me, knows my sadness?  For me, it is the middle of the night prayers with me begging for understanding and comfort.  Tears run into my ears as I try not to move or wake up my husband.  He wakes up anyway, listens to my thoughts, and gives me hugs.

Next year, what will we do for Thanksgiving?  I know we need to reach out.  I need to overcome my nerdy-rather-read-a-book holiday anti-social celebrating.  Work hard, delegate more, and not be selfish in my grieving/missing.  Open up our home to others struggling to overcome their grief, gather and count blessings.  Cook as much before hand, like a good Martha, and then settle and visit and be still and abide with those who come with heavy hearts, loneliness, sadness and fears.

Nice People

Aegis Newspaper Photo

I sneaked a look at blog visitors, and was suprised....I have not been a regular poster lately, and still have friends come to look at what we are doing???

Top photo:  flowers from Tiffany, along with a musical note locket to remember Max.
Middle photo:  fruit boquet from Carey remembering Max this summer.
Bottom photo:  Candlelight Vigil.   You can see me behind the lady in red t shirt wearing my florescent green jeans (!), and Sam with head bowed in background.  I've got my arm around Roxie, hugging her closely as she sobbed.  John's head behind mine, looking at slide show of all those who died from drug use in the county.  Last year the vigil was held in the park.  This year it rained, so we were inside the white bubble Zion church tent.

My technical goal today is to try and figure out how to make that cute little PIN button on photos on my blog...Originally trying to figure out how to Instagram something from a Pin and vice versa.

We have a drug-sobriety talk on Thursday at North Harford Middle School.  I have over a 100 t shirts done and ready to give away that night and at next presentation.  Family members that want shirts need to text me orders with sizes.  Guessing is hardwork when I don't see nieces and nephews often enough to see them growing!

They are still free--but we have been blessed with some generous donations to help pay for bleach, vinegar, and thrifted 100% cotton dark shirts (they work best).  At a yard sale Saturday my neighbor gathered up all the shirts that qualified and didn't charge me.  "It's for a good cause," said Dawn Carver.

From the Local Paper

We keep telling the same story.  A little different every time.  This last one, at the middle school where 3 of our children attended, we spoke last Tuesday night.

http://www.baltimoresun.com/news/maryland/harford/abingdon/ph-ag-aberdeen-heroin-forum-1016-20151014-story.html

I made sure all of the students attending left with a Defiance t-shirt.  Gave out the rest of our supply to parents on the way out the door.  And the sheriff's office ordered 16 shirts for their entire task force.  They loved the idea, the image, the word, Defiance, and the meaning we are attaching to it.

And that is the reason I am bleaching more today!  Trying to restock, have enough for next week in the northern part of the county where some of our children attended school before we moved here.

Same message:  be sober.  I always pray like crazy to know what to emphasize, what to say, what to leave out. 

Suicide Prevention Talk

 Wow---back from suicide prevention week on Aberdeen Proving Ground military post.  The first speaker, Tammy Woodard who works at the official suicide office, spoke about the worth of people.  She had a $20.00 brand new bill.  Asked who wanted it?  Then wrinkled, folded, stepped on it, smashed it up, now who wants it?  Still worth $20.00.  Good visual example.  She had a great power point with risks, danger signs to look for, resources (I want to take a photo of that slide on Friday, when she repeats her talk, and we do our 2nd one).  She threw the bill out into the audience, and Amy Landbeck Snyder caught it with her left hand!

John spoke first, then we showed Emma slideshow with Maryland State Boychoir singing, then me.  These are my notes, mostly followed, or paused and came back and read things.  I didn't know how emotional it would be, so I needed complete sentences to read, just in case...

1.  There are a lot of good memories in those photos.  

Thank you for listening so respectfully to my husband. 

I appreciate what Tammy said, grateful to be here today.  Max's youngest sister and brother are here, Roxie Jane & Sam, and his grandparents, John & Sandy Landbeck and one of his aunts, Amy Snyder.  Thank you for being here today, all of you.

2.  Bodies are precious gifts.  After Max was hit by the train they sent his body to Baltimore for autopsy and investigation.  When the funeral home picked him up, washed his hair & beard, let us come see him and say goodbye.  The funeral home pulled out one of his arms so we could hold his hand, hand a towel over the right side of his face and warned us to leave it in place and not move it.  I stroked his cheek, kissed my son, ran my fingers through his hair that was never that soft and full bodied in life. When your baby is born, you count all his toes, and fingers, make sure he is all there.  I touched his feet through the body bag, made sure he was all there by feel.

I gave him life.   We helped create that body, and it hurt me when he abused it, smoking pot, getting high, he picked up cigarette smoking in rehab, tripping out is scary---not just the crazy things he would say and talk about seeing.  

His self-medicating took him away from me.  Drugs hurt you.  They hurt my son.  

Suicide affects the whole family--siblings, cousins, we all miss him.  And we need to keep talking about him. 

Our youngest daughter, Roxie, was able to go to a grief camp with other children who lost a loved one recently.  They had a volcano room, where they could rip apart magazines, pound pool noodles against the wall, scream if they needed to, just to release the angry feelings that come.  Parents talk, but we need to remember the children that are affected by the suicide or death, too.

I have become a SOBRIETY ACTIVIST to try and help other parents know what to do when their children choose to use drugs.

3.  People ask all the time if DEFIANCE really is his middle name--and yes, it is.  Our firstborn son inherited the John Stewart Landbeck IV name of his great grandfather. 

Defiance=openly resist or refuse to obey

-not a sy-fy game, custom bolt rifle company

-The show takes place in the future on a radically transformed Earth containing new species, some having arrived from space,

The story begins in the year 2046. re-built ruins of St. Louis.  ALIENS = VOTANS

-Fort Defiance is a restaurant in Red Hook, Brooklyn,

 -Defiance College, OHIO yellowjacket mascot, -and a town in Missouri, beer company in Hays, Kansas,

We needed a good, strong name for son #2.  Nothing whimpy.  He needed a strong name, with meaning!  We gave him Defiance as a middle name with the prayer that he would defy the bad stuff in the world and that he would stand up for what is real and true.  We wanted him to fight for goodness. 

I don't know everything our son was feeling;  I have read through his journals and papers he kept carefully in a traveling file folder as he went from rehab and place to place.  Some of his struggles included worries about money & jobs, his love life and lack of confidence worrying that he was ugly, questions about God and where he fit into the world.  A lot of things we all have to deal with.

4.  Everyone feels self-doubts and insecurities, or trying to wade through grief or trauma, sadness, disappointments, depression to some degree.  That is normal part of life. 

I absolutely know that if I had talked more, during tough times, I would have been better off emotionally--in high school, struggling with postpartum depression…

FIND someone who will listen to you, and TALK and be a better listener!  A conversation can change your life!  Reach outside of your security zone, help someone, and be better at asking for help. 

5.  T-shirts are kind of a thing in our family.  When Max died he had no $ in bank, he had lost a lot of his possessions, but he still had some really cool t-shirts.  His 5 siblings divided them up, and I made a quilt for each of them, so they could all have a Max hug anytime they needed one.  They still smell like him.  (show quilt)  They opened them up at Christmas, and we had a lot of moments of silence, all wrote letters, what we would say to him and want him to know. 

This is a Defiance t-shirt, homemade!  We make these t-shirts with a stencil in our kitchen, using bleach, and then quickly rinse in vinegar to stop the bleaching process. 

You can show DEFIANCE of the complacency and acceptance of drugs, defy the people who can't remember how many inhibitions they let go of while under the influence.  Rebel against drowning your sorrows, be bold in being sober, challenge the drug humor, revolt against smoking pot.  Confront society's fear of talking about suicide.  THIS is what this t-shirt means to me. 

We have one for each of you today.  Thank you.

Busy Update for Spring

There was some Easter kissing and tie-jewelery matching...

Admiration for living room framed photos at a book club friend's home...

A sweet orchid gift from a friend!  (notice mint green paneling above fireplace, it will change this month)...

Another DC temple trip...

Sam went to Mormon Prom (another tie matching dress example!)...

Roxie went to a bereavement camp for children 8-16...

Tying a note she wrote to Max onto a pink balloon she chose for him...

Standing with her camp buddy for the weekend:  1 counselor per child ratio.

Then more presentations, the youth told their favorite part of the camp (Roxie said riding the horses was the highlight) and love stones with a word the counselor noticed about the youth (Roxie's was strength) and then a word of hope for them and their future (Roxie's was Love)...

Beautiful, amazing program, good practical advice, good therapy, good new friends.

And my favorite:  monarch butterfly launch, each child presented with an envelope...

And a quick picture from wedding shower I hosted last weekend-notice the paneled wall, needed a different color to highlight the banner, so a quick pink coat.  Yes, I paint for parties.

Relationships

(Suzanna is doing well in the Missionary Training Center, from everything we read in her emails!)

I have a solo drug sobriety presentation to make today, 15 minutes.  Lots of thoughts rolling around my head, and I need to organize them.

When John and I speak together, one of my favorite things he says is that using drugs hurts your relationships.  Losing trust, alienating you from each other, the distance, the pain, the fights.  Head butting.  Trying to persuade each other to change (Max did try to get us parents to get high with him so we would understand how he felt.)

I wish I knew, really knew, why our son was so susceptible to drug use.  Why did he get involved in them?  What could we have done to protect him more?  How could we have given him more information or help to resist the offer to use?

Scare tactics?  Exposing him to the consequences?

How do some kids make it through high school unharmed and safe?  With brain cells and health intact?  The stereotype--and the joke in films, sitcoms and computer memes, is an introverted, nerdy, no-friend, uncool, naive, socially awkward, boring, clue-less dressing sad virgin NEVER drinks or gets high.  And the opposite:  cool, popular, edgy, fun-loving, relaxed, world-wise, great clothes, good jokes, all the money they need and gets high and drinks but never gets caught, never endangers their friends, smokes a little pot to have more fun at a party, gets all the love-action they want...

I just spent an hour looking through drug humor memes.  Very depressing.

"What does pot give you?" ask the interviewer.
"I become more aware of how beautiful everything is," replies the movie star.
"And what do drugs take away?"
"Using drugs gets rid of the boredom, lonliness, pain..."

"Remember kids, if a stranger offers you drugs...say 'thank you' because drugs are very expensive."

This is the world we live in.

I remember Max's drug use made it hard to trust him.  Hard to believe if he was telling the truth or not.  He lied, he was sneaky, he told us he quit when he really just got better at hiding his use.  He stole grocery money to buy drugs.

Two weeks ago a PTA mom asked me what I wish I had done differently, in hind sight.  I told her I wish I had been tougher right at the beginning and called the cops and turned him in to the system, scared him, let him deal with the consequences when he was still 17 years old.  I wish I hadn't tried to protect him.

Would it have damaged our relationship? 

His making bad choices didn't make him a bad person, but what he was doing was wrong.  Illegal.  Scary.

John:  no matter how poorly you have behaved or how much you have disappointed your family, or how cynical and hard to the world, remember you are precious and your life has value and should be protected.  The world is better with you in it.

I don't want to come off as scolding.  Or judgemental.

Talking to drug abuse strangers I have to be open, bold, honest.  Praying for that.

Free T-shirts with a Promise & Committment to be Safe & Sober

Best news ever:  One of my daily seminary early morning Bible School students reported seeing someone wearing a Defiance t-shirt at his school, two days after our presentation there!  I asked my student if he talked to him, said anything, or if he would recognize the student again to talk to him about sobriety, and explain he has a matching shirt....?

As part of my grocery budget $ I buy 100% cotton dark t-shirts to bleach through my stencil.  Thanks to my sister Laurajane for cool idea!  Below is a t-shirt gift she made.

Laurajane used nametag sticky rectangles to cut out letters and bleached around.

After spraying bleach--which will continue to bleach and eat away at the fibers, immediately put shirt in sink or bowl with water and a cup of vinegar or lemon juice to stop the bleach chemical reaction.  It will make the t-shirt last longer.  Then wash normally to take away vinegar smell.

When we give the Don't Do Drugs presentation at schools, we have been giving away Defiance t-shirts, either giving them to PTA organizers for door prizes, or my favorite--throwing them out into audience after we speak.

The best source of the t-shirts:  thrift stores.  Goodwill has 1/2 off sales last Saturday of the month, so 6 shirts for $5.00.  My favorite thrift store in Edgewood has 1/2 off certain color tags every day, and I look for solid dark shirts there.  A nice cashier asked what I was doing, so I explained my spiel about Drugs & Defying them, and by the 2nd shopping trip he asked for a finished one and said he would wear it once a week at work to help get the message out, explaining every time someone comments on his shirt what it is all about.  Encouraging sobriety.

Home Decorating note:  Brilliant daughter Roxie positioned this IKEA rug in our hallway lined up with North!  She did get in to the Science & Math Academy, so her dreams of rocket ship building are that much closer. 

Be Glad...while Sober!

We skyped with Emma in California after the kids opened up their Max quilts, wrote letters to him (what we would say to him today) and took pictures in front of the yarn bomb trees.  There are 4 (!) in front yard now.  The tree with lights is the black & white yarn bombed one.

They are all very different-Roxie's has a bunch of "Roxy" brand t-shirts I have saved over the years for her, Sam's includes some of his school shirts, Stewart a GEMS program shirt they were both in, Suzu's foot and hand print hot pink shirt, so they know which one is theirs.

I yarn bombed the red bud tree this morning, after doing a neighbor's tree after she said her little boys had been talking about our yarn and wouldn't mind being yarn-bombed for sobriety....her tree was so big and wide around the trunk that I couldn't reach around it, had to run around wrapping the t-shirts and got dizzy!

We opened birthday presents today, too, (Mom, thanks for the shiny sparkly purple hat!) and my mom's good advice to "Be Glad" is a theme for me, a reminder.  I am glad for these amazing children, their laughter, and support and hugs and tears.  They are stronger, more sensitive to suffering and distress of others having gone through this hard summer of losing a sibling. 

Emma is waiting for their Santas to wake up before she opens her quilt, and I hope she posts a photo, because I forgot to take one of completed quilt before I sent it off to her.

QUILT construction detail:

(these-above and just below-are from Emma's quilt in the making, auditioning position of squares) Smooth out t-shirt on cutting mat, use 12 1/2 clear cutting acrylic cutting square to cut front AND back of t-shirt.  Sandwich a same size flannel square inside; sew X from corner to corner; determine order of blocks and sew generous 1/2 inch seams to FRONT of quilt; clip with scissors to create fringe.  Remember to sew around perimeter to secure/stabilize outside edge of quilt.  They were heavy with just the flannel "batting."

Back of Roxie's quilt, smooth edges on this side, fringe on front which looks better after each washing.

I didn't wash these yet, they still smell like Max a  little.  It was very emotional to make them, surrounded by the memories of him wearing the shirts, thinking of him, missing him, but glad for the project to give the other children a memory to hug.

Stamp of Approval for Sobriety

The bishop showed up last night with his musically super talented family, sang us a beautiful Christmas hymn, gave us a plate of treats (accepted one in return, Lauren said, "I will take good care of this!") and showed us their t-shirt hems.  Bishop's was from the bottom of a Raven's t-shirt.  Jeannette's from a t-shirt she wore all the time for special education therapy teaching, I am sure there were stories behind the kids' choices, too. 

Lauren brought a white t-shirt hem and when I showed her the black & white tree and a bare trunk, she very seriously did it by herself.  She innocently asked, "What's sobriety?"   And we explained it is obeying the word of wisdom, not doing drugs, or drinking.  She said, "Okay!"

Jeannette tying her's on.

Best.  Gift.  Ever.  Thank you!

Yarn Bombing for Sobriety

Yarn bombing.  Harmless, decorative.  Knitters have decorated bridges, statues...You can google it, a real thing.  My sister told me about the yarn bombing in Pittsburgh on the bridges. 

For me, this is a way to use up the 3 foot high pile of t-shirt scraps leftover after making t-shirt quilts for Christmas.  The shirts came from our son, Maxwell, who passed away this summer.  I couldn't just throw them away.  This has been cathartic, helping me deal with the grief of missing him during the holidays.  I don't want any teenagers to go through what he did.  It started with pot, escalated.  Smoking spice hurt him. 

Being sober needs to be a choice.  A decision.  A want these yarn bombing trees to spread all over the city, and maybe it will help somebody else know that being sober matters.  Drugs hurt you.  Be safe.

 "Yarn Bomb a Tree in Support of Sobriety this Holiday Season!"
First tree, with brightest of Max's t-shirts.

More of his t-shirts:  black, white, & gray version, with Christmas white lights.

I took fliers over to the middle school craft fair and talked it up. 

And two families from the fair stopped to help.

The added blue yarn is scrap yarn.  They took pictures of their teenagers committing to be sober over the holidays.  I gave them each a big ball of Max t-shirt yarn to go home and bomb their trees.

Got permission from neighbor across the street to bomb her tree!

A view of both the trees in our yard.

Quick tutorial for cutting t-shirts into "yarn" here:

It is easy to cut off the bottom hem, and use the main body of t-shirt, but you can cut spirals from the sleeves, every part of the t-shirt.  Cut about 1.5 inch strips.

Tie a square knot to attach one strip to another.  Roll into a ball inside to make easier to pass around the trunk and branches outside in the cold!

Trains & Temples

I took the train Friday down to BWI close to John-husband's work.  Worse moment was when another MARC train came the opposite way and startled me, made me jump, heart racing.  I had ridden the train & subway in Manhattan 2 weeks ago, and it was ok, as long as I didn't think about it, dwell on sad things.  Trains are modern tools, and if Max had died in a car accident I would still drive a car, carefully.  I have an aunt who died in a small airplane crash, but our family still flies.  John had an uncle die in a motorcycle crash, and those are kind of a family off-limit thing now.  The intersection is 7 houses down from our home, and I always pause a couple of seconds longer, thinking about his uncle Mike, take a minute to be safe and look for motorcycles before turning left...So maybe it is okay to think of Max with every train ride and pray for the engineers to be safe and pedestrians careful...

John was waiting on the sidewalk for me.  He towers above most of the commuters, so I could see him from a long distance off, very romantic and sweet of him.  He escorted me to the car, opened my door like always.  I don't want to take that gentlemanlyness for granted.  I count it as a blessing!

There was a huge accident on the beltway that we avoided taking 200, got to the temple in record time.   I feel such comfort and peace there and joy for the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the promised resurrection.  We talked about Maxwell and cried some together for almost an hour after our service.  My testimony of Joseph Smith (watch the film on the link to see my favorite actor portraying him) as a true modern prophet was strengthened tremendously this trip down.  I thought of him and the restored priesthood keys and ordinances revealed through him and felt a kinship/friendship that was new to me--like a reunion/remembering as I recognized his voice.

My eyes are squinty from the sun and allergies, but I am happy.  John is concentrating on pushing the right button.

Steampunked Kilts: Trunk or Treat

 

Sam & Roxie's kilts are 8 yards and 5 yards, fully pleated in back.  John and mine are quickly done, costume only, not even the right tartan, but close.  Roxie's is not quite Davidson clan, but she loves green and blue and it was in my fabric stash, conveniently.

I decorated our car trunk with silk flowers hung #56 tags, and the red satiny quilt (from Luanna) and the 56 days left sign:  Christmas countdown.  We won one of the trunk decorating prizes!  Scariest?

People, friends, have asked me this week how I am doing, really doing, and they made time to listen.  I have gotten teary-eyed and mushy and choked up and realized how much I am still grieving for Maxwell's loss.  I miss him, and still feel really sad.  It makes sense to me now the year of mourning in Victorian times, family wearing black, or at least black armbands in remembrance of their lost one.

   It has been easy to escape reading books and not having to "think" or "feel" or to stay busy, really busy, or get involved in serving someone else so I don't think about being sad.

One listening friend said, "I don't know how you are doing it, even waking up and getting out of bed."  

Holidays are sad, since we use them as gathering, food celebrating, and remembering.  Max was a blue-body suit man last year.  He asked me to mend his suit where it had ripped a little at the neck.  I fixed it but didn't get it back to him, he said he didn't need it until Halloween.  Every time I see Suzu in her matching suit, I think it would have been a fun picture/video of them together.  Regret un-photos=times you wish you had photographed, but too late.

 

Dealing with stress and grief--besides drinking more water, getting outside once a day, not eating sugar, reading scriptures on my own, doing something unexpected and nice for someone else at least once a week, and everyday being nice to myself (hot shower) and giving myself a complement--saying something out loud while looking in the mirror.  Something about me that I like and is real and true (not just something I do well, but an attribute describing who I am, inside.  Kind of like the pep-talk in "The Help" that the maid gives her boss's daughter "You is kind, you is smart, you is important").

 

And yes, our garage now has burnt orange diamonds, for Halloween.

Because I am a visionary woman.  I like to see changing colors in my environment.  The autumn trees are gorgeous and inspiring and I like to savor colors like flavors for my eyes.  (Haha, now I am laughing at myself.)