The Scarlet W

Photo by Leo Reynolds

These days, I feel like I am wearing a Scarlet W on my chest.  I have seen acquaintances who used to speak to me look the other way as if they didn't see me.  Or worse, I have overheard them whispering to others, pointing me out, "That's her, the one whose husband died."  It shocks me quite a lot, and hurts me a little.  Do people think that widowhood is contagious?

But I get it, I do.  Acquaintances don't know me well enough to know what to say or how to comfort me.  And it's hard to see someone in pain...it's personal and private and uncomfortable and let's face it, not pretty.  So I shouldn't be surprised that acquaintances run the other way.  I've been guilty of it myself, in the past.

But I'm here to tell you, those people who don't know me well but say something anyway...I love them for it.  I love it when an acquaintance shares a memory of Mark.  I love it when acquaintances tell me Grace and I are in their thoughts and prayers.  And I think the best approach of all may be one shared by two male work colleagues--one a gruff retired military man, the other a young guy just a few years out of college.  I mean no disrespect to either, but neither would win awards for being especially sensitive.  But both of them, on separate occasions, saw me walking toward them in the hallway at work, pulled me into a big bear hug, then patted my shoulder and went on without a word.  It was the perfect way to show that they care, because truly, there are no words.



To-Do List for the Newly Widowed

Cry.

Cry.

Cry.

Conduct the business

of carrying on without him.

Wear black

Deny.

Deny.

Deny.

Scream.

Vomit.

Listen to well-meaning strangers

say inane things like,

"Happy New Year!"

and

"Have a nice day!"

Try with all your might

not to punch them.

Sigh.

Sigh.

Sigh.

Cry.

Cry.

Cry.

Left foot.

Right foot.

Left foot.

Right foot.

Breathe.

Heart Broken

Mark Bledsoe

1958-2011

William Mark Bledsoe died December 22, 2011 after a sudden and devastating illness. He died the same way he lived, surrounded by family and friends, love and laughter.

Mark was born July 9, 1958 to Bill and Memory Bledsoe in Tulsa. He was a graduate of Big Cabin High School, Rogers State University, and Oklahoma State University.

He was Executive Director and Lobbyist for the United Suburban Schools Association, and also an adjunct professor at OSU-OKC. Previously he worked for the Oklahoma Public Employees Association, which awarded him a Lifetime Achievement Award in 2005.

Mark was a member of the Putnam City School Board, the American and Oklahoma Societies of Association Executives, and Mayflower Congregational Church.

He was devoted to his family and friends and to pursuing his many passions: books, beer, baseball, church, history, politics, public education, Scouting, and following his beloved Cardinals and Cowboys.

Mark was preceded in death by his beloved sainted mother and sister, both of whom were named Memory Bledsoe. He is survived by his wife, Kimberlee Williams; his cherished daughter Grace Bledsoe; his father, Bill Bledsoe; his baby sister, Kathy Kostelnick; his favorite nephew and niece, Derek and Karissa Kostelnick; and a whole horde of aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends.

A celebration of his life will be held Wednesday, December 28, 2011, at 1 p.m. at Mayflower Congregational Church, 3901 NW 63rd St., Oklahoma City. The family has requested that “real fans wear orange.”

In lieu of flowers, please express your love to your spouse; if you are a Democrat, hug a Republican and vice versa; donate blood; support your local public schools and libraries; spend time with your kid; volunteer for a worthy cause; share a laugh with a friend. Memorial contributions may be made to: Deaconess Adoption and Pregnancy Services, 7101 NW Expressway, Ste. 325, Oklahoma City, OK 73132; or to the Putnam City Schools Foundation, 5401 NW 40th, Oklahoma City, OK 73122. Go Pokes!



Dry Spell

This blog has been haunting me for a long time now..."Update me! Mwahahaha!". But I just have not had the energy or the inspiration. I started this blog to share some information about adoption, but with Lil Sweetie now 9 years old, it's just not foremost in our minds anymore.

And then I thought I would post about my creative endeavors, but my free time is such that I feel like it is often a choice of either being creative, or documenting my creative pursuits...there's just not time for both.

So I've been in a bit of a slump lately. A dry spell. Crunchy and brown like the expensive shrub pictured above, which perished in our heat spell hell of a summer.

Then I discovered the imake podcast, which led me to ravelry.com, which introduced me to attic24, which gave me the pattern and inspiration for this:




And just like that, I found my mojo.

-Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Remember This?

Remember this?  Remember snow and howling winds and bitter, bitter cold?  Most people don't understand this about me, some even claim I'm crazy, but I long for Fall and Winter all year long.

My pasty, white skin was not meant for the harsh, bright sun of summer--I only burn, never tan.  Sweating makes me itch.  Mosquitos love me, and their bites swell up on me the size of quarters.  I don't like to swim.  Summer just has nothing to offer me that I'm interested in. 

And this year has been especially brutal.  A record-setting heat wave coupled with drought has made this summer unbearable to me.  Walking outside is like walking into an oven.  The air conditioning cannot keep up when it is over 100 degrees day after day after day.  No matter what you do, count on sweating while doing it.  I would like to kiss the person who invented ceiling fans.  The nearby lake looks so desolate, what with its fishing dock sitting on dry land.  The lovely (and expensive) bushes I planted so hopefully and lovingly this Spring are as dry and crispy as corn flakes, even though we watered them faithfully as often as the water rationing would allow

My creativity is dry and crispy too.  Art and Craft have lifted me out of many a funk, if only temporarily, but this time I got nuttin'.  I cannot find the energy to do much at all.  I suspect I may be a wee bit depressed.  The summer doldrums?  Can I call in sick to work with that?

My husband's answer to everything is, "This too shall pass."  Sometimes annoying, but always, ALWAYS true.  And so I comfort myself by dreaming of nippy days and chilly nights, piling another blanket on the bed, digging out my fluffiest, warmest socks, and celebrating those wonderful gray days of Fall and Winter.

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself , I am large, I contain multitudes."  ~ Walt Whitman

1. I am allergic to raisins.
2. I am not allergic to grapes.
3. Raisins are made from grapes, are they not?
4. I hate boxing and think it's barbaric.
5. If I leave a hockey game without seeing blood on the ice, I feel cheated.
6. I don't believe in astrology.
7. I feel a wee bit superior because I am a Scorpio, the sex symbol of the zodiac!
8. I am proud to have been born in the Year of the Tiger.
9. I feel sorry for all the Rats and Goats.
10. I am convinced that one reason for my happy life is that I live with a Horse and a Dog, which are both compatible with Tigers.
11. I don't believe in the Chinese Zodiac.
12. I am a "people person."
13. I need a lot of "alone time."
14. I am a Christian.
15. I love images of Buddha and Ganesha.
16. I believe in being polite.
17. I curse.  I mean, I effin' curse a LOT.
18. My heart leaps at the sound of Native American flutes and drums and therefore I am convinced I was Indian in a former life.
19. I also believe that I lived in Czarist Russia.
20. When I was a small child, I talked constantly about the friends I had when I was a bunny, before I was a child.
21. A friend-of-a-friend who claims to be psychic showed me a mark on my palm that she says indicates I was a citizen of the lost city of Atlantis.
22. My daughter has the same mark on her palm.
23. When I met my daughter, I felt like we had known each other forever.
24. I do not believe in past lives.
25. I'm putting this list on the internet for the whole world to see.
26. I'm pretty sure this is the kind of thing that is interesting only to me.

Pot Holes on Easy Street

Life has been a bit less than great lately.  Things are not BAD--I'm incredibly blessed.  Let's just say that Easy Street has developed a few pot holes lately.  There is still uncertainty in my job, we're right in the midst of some painful anniversaries, and I've had a lot of trouble sleeping off and on.  And let's face it, the view is less bright with bleary eyes, is it not?

When I start feeling this way, I think a lot about the late Peggy Chun, who inspires me greatly.  No, not Connie Chung!  Do you know who Peggy Chun is?  I have to admit that I had never heard of her until just a few years ago.

Peggy was born in Oklahoma but made her home in Hawaii.  When ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease) took her twin sister, an artist, Peggy became an artist in tribute to her twin.  She became a quite well-known and beloved artist in Hawaii.  And then, she was diagnosed with ALS too.  She kept right on painting.  When she lost the use of her right hand, she learned to paint with her left.  When that also became impossible, she painted by holding the paintbrush in her mouth.  Eventually, ALS robbed her of that ability too.  Did that stop her?  Hell no!  Peggy kept on painting by using a computer program that read her eye commands.  The woman was incapable of breathing on her own, and yet she taught classes in painting.  She wrote a book.  She kept on living her life, communicating solely through eye movements.

Eventually it became clear that she was losing even the ability to control her eye movements, and that it was time to turn off the ventilator.  But not before Peggy finished her bucket list.  With the help of friends and family, she enjoyed a final tub bath, a campfire, a ride on the Superferry, and a going away party in her front yard that lasted all day and night, the electric cord to her ventilator run between the beer coolers.  Her bucket list completed, Peggy passed away in November of 2008.

And so, on those mornings when I lie in bed, weary from lack of sleep, already stressed about the day ahead, wishing I could pull the covers over my head, I think of Peggy Chun.  I think, if she could face ALS and say, "You will not keep me from the things I want to do, and you will not take me until I am ready to go," then surely to goodness I can drag my lazy butt out of bed and face those little pot holes on Easy Street.

The artwork that accompanies this post has nothing to do with Peggy Chun; it is art created by Lil Sweetie using an Iphone app called SpinArt.  Peggy Chun's artwork is lovely and can be easily found by Googling her name...I just wanted to avoid infringing on any copyrights held by her family.