Grieving Gardener

The holidays are a time for rushing around and getting things done. Unfortunately, some of our church family have not managed to stay upright. Two have fallen, resulting in broken bones and the necessary medical care that follows. Two others are hospitalized with serious illnesses.

During crisp Autumn afternoons, we’ve enjoyed intense desert sunshine and clear skies however the mornings have been a different story. Every winter, we endure a few days of pogonip. Pronounced just like it looks, Po-go-nip is a Shoshone word for a dense winter fog with frozen particles in the western high desert plains. If you don’t need to go outside, it’s absolutely beautiful. On a clear morning the sky dancings with particles of ice resembling tiny floating diamonds.

Outside, things look desert dry. There’s been no rain or snow for weeks, yet the pogonip coats the ground with a thin layer of slick, invisible ice. Ice is any senior’s biggest fear. Falling often results in broken bones. What a way to end the holiday festivities!

Last week, we held our first Griefshare meeting with friends from the church. Neither HHH nor I knew what to expect. How could we lead a group of grieving adults when we’d never done that before? At that time, no one had yet signed up for the class. With a box of yummy snacks and our faith, we headed to the church to wait for attendees.

During the first meeting of four, we learned a lot about each other. With plenty of time for sharing, those who needed to speak did so. Personal experiences added to the lesson and the time flew by.

After hugs and well wishes, everyone seemed to leave with a lighter heart. HHH and I were both relieved that the first class was a success, although smaller than we hoped. Since then, two more people have joined our group. If we double each week, we’ll need more chairs by the end of the class!

Just this week, I was talking to a friend about the class.

“Well, I wouldn’t have anything to add to the class. I’m still really angry with my late husband.”

Anger. It’s part of the grief package. Along with every other emotion one might feel is inappropriate. With a little more discussion, maybe she’ll join us.

During Week 2 , we’ll speak of the unique nature of grief. I’ll be up early to bake a fresh Lemon-Blueberry pound cake drizzled with deliciousness. Add something salty and we’ll be ready for our group.

If you’re struggling with grief during the holidays, Google “Archive.org/details/Griefshare and watch a few of the videos you’ll find there. These videos were produced in 2014 and contain helpful and comforting information.

“It’s a God thing” describes an event or situation people believe was influenced or guided by God. The circumstances that surround what happened occur in such a way that only God himself could have orchestrated them, or that is at least how it appears. — _{Internet Definition}

Yesterday, before going to see the angel that makes my nails pretty, I had errands to run. Growing the grief support group has taken thought and time. So many people are grieving in the world. News of our group must spread around our little town. We have something comforting to offer. Support.

After gassing up the car, which seems to be on “E” a lot lately, I dropped off flyers at a local doctor’s office and the assisted living facility in town. Glancing at my phone, I noticed a message from a very old friend.

I met KayDee in high school. In the class behind me, we became best friends and did everything together. When I graduated, she became very close with my cousin, just a few years younger than me. KayDee and Auntie TJ became very good friends, spending quality time together.

On my phone was a picture of a Christmas stocking Auntie TJ had made for her in 1975. Her post was simply, “TJ made this for me in 1975. It’s been my stocking ever since.”

KayDee didn’t remember that yesterday, TJ celebrated was celebrating a milestone birthday.

Quickly, I asked if she’d like to call TJ and wish her a Happy Birthday! In the blink of an eye, two old friends were on the phone talking as if a day hadn’t gone by. TJ was elated to hear from KayDee. KayDee was over the moon to talk to TJ. Some friendships are just like that.

Later in the day, it was my turn to talk to Auntie TJ. She was planning to enjoy Filet Mignon and a baked potato for dinner. But, the real present of the day came in the form of a surprise phone call from her old friend.

Here’s the mystery of the entire story. I don’t talk to KayDee as often as I would like. She chose yesterday to send me a random picture of her Christmas stocking. It just happened to be TJ’s milestone birthday and I turned into the conduit between the two of them.

Almost as payback for helping the two get connected, I received a surprise phone call from my little 3rd grade student who has somehow bloomed into a 30-year-old beauty!! Laughing and catching up as two old friends do, I couldn’t help but smile at the loveliness of the day. Old friendships are the best part of a beautiful life.

The Christmas season is such a lovely time to spread love and friendship. There are so many ways to let someone know how significant they’ve been in your life. Don’t wait. Do it quickly while the tinsel still sparkles on your tree. You’ll never regret reaching out to an old friend while you still can.

More tomorrow.

With the first week of December nearly gone, Christmas is upon us. HHH has been spending his days on the ladder as he makes Winterpast sparkle. Warm and toasty inside, I’ve been putting out items while remembering Christmas’s of long ago.

Everyone in the area is gearing up for some old-fashioned Christmas fun. The little town to the east will hold its tree lighting tomorrow night. Some dear friends are going to join us for dinner and the fun. Down Mainstreet, the elves of this little town make snow in case there’s not much of the real stuff. This all leads to a magical evening of old-fashioned fun.

Saturday night, our little town can’t be outdone! After a day of pancakes and pictures with Santa, we’ll enjoy the lighted parade. Then, the town will light the town’s Christmas tree while the countdown continues.

Even though years have passed since that first Christmas of grief in 2020, special yet random memories pop up reminding us of loss. It could be a favorite Christmas carol or a silly ornament. Memories of those we’ve lost are always close by.

Here are some hints that might help.

1. Plan and Prioritize. There’s no rule that you must do everything, or anything for that matter. Pick 2 or 3 events that you don’t want to miss, or plan to miss them all. The big thing is to choose the look and feel of YOUR holiday season. Do You.
2. Pace Yourself. If you need help getting those boxes down from the rafters, for goodness’ sakes, ask for help. It might be the year to sort through your Christmas stash and donate a few things. If the boxes are just too much, skip them altogether.
3. People vs. privacy. Make a choice. It takes a lot of energy to entertain others. It’s okay to skip a holiday if the pressure is too much. Friends and family will understand.
4. What does the season mean to You? It’s a great time to think about why we celebrate. Take some time to consider the personal meaning the holidays have for you.

Take a deep breath and find a smile. Cozy up and enjoy a cup of hot chocolate. If you live anywhere like my town, it’s cold outside. Autumn is a lovely time of year to reflect.

More tomorrow.

I once met a girl I’ll call Vee who’d now be 23 if she’d beaten HIV-1 and lived. Fourteen Christmas’s ago, we were student, teacher, and friends in a most unlikely place. The Pulmonary Unit of a Children’s Hospital.

I met her in early October. AIDS had dealt her a pretty horrible blow. Her lungs were shot and even at 9, her body was not strong enough to fight for much longer. With an extended stay in the hospital, she joined school at the hospital. It was she that taught me so many important lessons about life.

During her time at the hospital, she became a living legend. Although not a child that demanded attention, her determination and vision about her purpose in the world demanded a second look. Her father had already succumbed to the AIDS virus. Her mom and brother weren’t as sick as she. She wasn’t interested in laying around when there was so much life experience. So, Vee really lived!

Pediatric Intensive Care is a strange place to teach 3rd grade subjects to a small girl. Each day, I’d look forward to my visits with her. At nine years old, she was a bit young to work on a computer, but that didn’t stop her from dreaming of having her own.

At the time, I knew a lady named Leslie Morrissette who sent free computers to hospitalized kids all over the country. My students were eligible if they 11 or older. I’d just received a beautiful laptop for a 12th grader who’d been battling leukemia. When her computer arrived, she was grateful but asked that I give it to another student more needy than she.

On the morning I visited Vee, I happened to have the computer with me. Missing nothing, she saw the extra and asked to whom that particular laptop belonged.

“Well, Miss Vee, it doesn’t have a home right now.”

“Wow, Teacher Joy. I could sure use one!” Her amazing hazel eyes and impish smile just melted my heart.

With a few calls, the computer was hers. On each bedside visit, she had questions about another subject that had interested her. My favorite memory led us underground and into an Egyptian tomb. With monitors beeping and nurses checking on us, we slowly followed the hallway deep into the ancient tomb without ever leaving her hospital room. Her curiosity was limitless to her teacher’s delight.

In the months I knew her she made and sold jewelry. Earning over $500, she sent the money to an AIDS hospital in Africa to help her internet friends across the world. She was interviewed on television. She made lots of computer videos as little girls do. She stole the hearts of everyone who knew and loved her. Vee was just that kind of gal.

We lost Vee on December 21, 2010. That day, she had gone downstairs to watch hundreds of Hells Angels Bikers drop off gifts for the children at the hospital. She was interviewed by the local television channel that afternoon. Before she fell asleep, she told her mom it was the best day of her entire life. And then, she left us for adventures in heaven.

I tell you about Miss Vee because even all these years later, she inspires me to be the best I can be. The strongest. The most tenacious. Inquisitive. Thoughtful. Generous. The brightest light I can be in a world of darkness. Miss Vee, as one of my angels, knows that someday I’ll get there. It’ll be time for school when the bell rings. She won’t be late. We have a lot more to learn together.

Whatever you do today, take some time to remember inspirational people in your life that beat all the odds to remain happy under the worst conditions. Inspiration can come from the most unusual and unexpected places. As for Vee, she’s walking on sunshine!!

More tomorrow.

Many agree 2020 was the worst year in their lives. The Covid quarantine harmed so many. It mattered not the age, from grandparents longing to see their loved ones to those dying alone in hospitals, grief blanketed the world. It was in that year that HHH and I became widowed.

During that horrible year, it wasn’t possible to receive comforting care and love from friends and neighbors. Those living away couldn’t easily book flights without the worry that they might contract Covid on their travels. Neighbors watched each other to make sure no one had more than six people in a gathering. Churches shuttered. All this under the watchful eye of the all-knowing government that blew this terribly.

Then, to add to the misery, funeral homes and churches were closed to funerals and memorials. While I resorted to using the gardens of Winterpast to memorialize my husband, HHH waited six months after his death to honor his wife.

To add insult to injury, seventeen days after my loss, I bought and sold a house. Little did I know that when I moved in, there was a gentleman living across town that I’d marry someday. My thoughts of someday were distant, dark, and lonely. During that year, I wasn’t’ sure there would be a “happy someday” for me.

Six miles away from Winterpast’s door, HHH’s grieved with one small difference. He’d lived in our town since he was five and it was already his home. A huge family was there to offer support during the black days he needed them the most.

During those days, we both needed the support of people who understood, like those journeying through the wilderness of grief. Those much-needed groups didn’t exist.

A few months ago, I asked our pastor a question. Why didn’t our town have a support group for those in grief?

To this, he suggested that HHH and I could start one if we felt called to do so.

And so, a new chapter has opened. Yesterday, we held our first meeting. Our group will meet for 15 weeks, ending in early March. During that time, we’ll learn about the stages of grief, changes that occur after a death, and ways to cope with daily problems with God’s help.

After much thought and planning, the afternoon was a success. Everyone enjoyed snacks and coffee while sharing their stories of loss and healing. It’s good to know these friends don’t need to endure the darkness of grief alone. No one should grieve alone.

Whatever you do today, if grief has you down, don’t wait. Find a support group to help you on your journey. Although everyone grieves in their own special way, the comfort of others on their own journeys can be a huge help.

More tomorrow.

There was a time when the malls of America were stunning at Christmas time. The perfect place to meet up with friends, it was exciting to go with a list and spend the day searching for just the right gift. Sometimes, the right gift didn’t make it on the list, but when you saw it, you knew. Well, the times they are a-changin”.

Many other traditions aren’t honored anymore. Beloved Christmas hymns are missing from many Sunday services, replaced by more popular selections. Even in our small town, christmas caroling seems to be a thing of the past. How sad to lose such beautiful songs tying us to even more beautiful memories of long ago.

Black Friday used to be on the Friday after Thanksgiving. On that very day, husbands were in a turkey coma while kids were running amuck. It was the perfect day to get away with friends and shop for the first bargains of the season. It was always on Friday, not the entire month before Thanksgiving. Hence the name black FRIDAY!!!!! Perhaps they should consider changing the name to Black November.

Today, we celebrate Cyber Monday. Rather than braving the cold, snow, and ice to shop, we can sip our piping-hot coffee while putting things in our cyber-baskets. In a few days time, boxes will arrive full of secret gifts. Just be sure you open the right boxes!!

There are some things to remember if you plan to do your shopping this way.

Make a list and stick to it. When ordering online, I suffer amnesia about the presents I’ve already purchased. If you have a budget and list, you’ll be happier in January.

Be careful and shop from trusted websites. On Amazon, many products are sold through “The Marketplace”. This isn’t our trusted Amazon, but 3rd-party sellers. The other day, I purchased a book on writing. When it came, it was quite old, dusty, and used. The worst thing about Marketplace is that these sellers make it nearly impossible to return goods. Avoiding Marketplace sellers is a wise idea in my experience.

If you can, try to shop local. Little Mom and Pop shops have such a hard time making ends meet in this economy. They need to forecast what products will sell, order them in the summer and hope for the best. The local owners are often the same people that work the check-out, stock the shelves, and keep the books. They are neighbors and friends. So, think about going out and buying things from local shops.

Remember to use the credit card with the best points or cash bonus returns. After a busy Christmas season, those benefits add up, so don’t forget about them.

Finally, monitor your card on a daily basis. Although this can be a pain, finding suspicious activity early is key in keeping your account safe from fraud. Choose a time of the day that works for you. If you’re not sure how to check your account online, find out.

Whatever you do today, it’s time to start your gift lists. If you are thinking about sending cards, pour yourself a cup of hot cocoa and get with it. Take some time and listen to some old Christmas hymns. You just might be surprised that you still know every word.

More tomorrow.

After a wonderful day with family and friends, HHH and I are ready to decorate for the holidays. The neighborhood outdoor lighting competition started last week. The men in our neighborhood have one thing in common. They LOVE outdoor Christmas lights and are going to make sure they have the BEST display on the block.

Just a year ago, HHH and I were the newlyweds on the block. It all started with the very first strand of lights placed on the eaves of Winterpast. The Marine across the street went for the bait and placed computerized lighting on his house. The contest was ON.

The lighted deer arrived two days before Christmas, completing our display. With a forest of lighted trees, snow men, deer, lighted dogs, and lights on top of more lights, our neighborhood never looked better. This year, I’m sure it will be even better while more homeowners are already getting out the ladders and lights.

I handle the interior decorations avoiding ladders and the cold. For the last ten years, Lowe’s has offered small poinsettias for $1.50 each. Cute and compact, the poinsettias can be grouped to create larger arrangements. It’s become one tradition I love. At 6 am, we’re off to Lowe’s to purchase the colorful plants which last throughout the season.

Those of you who celebrate a December birthday might understand. I love decorating early. I’m usually decorated for Christmas by Thanksgiving because I’d rather not overshadow my birthday with Christmas chores. Decorating is a big job. Any possible birthday excitement (of which I have next to zero anyway) will be spent if I wait. Decorations are up by December 1.

As the years have flown by, I’m less attached to decorations or the need to have every inch of Winterpast covered in red and green. My December birthday is insignificant when compared to something much more important. The REASON for the SEASON. The birth of Jesus.

Whatever you do this weekend, take some time to reflect on past holidays and the things that brought you happiness. Pick out things that make you smile and incorporate them into a wonderful new season. Try a new recipe. Make some cookies for a friend. Stay busy. Keep Calm and Carry on!

More on Monday.

Happy Thanksgiving 2024! I’m so thankful for HHH, friends and family, and life on the high plains of Northwestern Nevada. Since 2020, life has changed into something new and wonderful. Even though that’s true, I can’t help reflecting back on Thanksgiving 2020 and the first major holiday as a widow.

Enjoy……..

Happy Thanksgiving. This was penned last night. Tell those you cherish how much they mean to you. Enjoy………

I’ve had the most wonderful day. It started with my Ninja Neighbor needing ice for her brine-soaking turkey. Quickly filling a bowl, I hurried to her door, where her brilliant smile welcomed me. Her home, festively decorated, was as inviting as her giggles while we talked. Time stops when we visit, even though she is one of the busiest people I know. As we stood at her counter, I talked to her about womanly things that are best left between friends. Even though I am twenty years her senior, in some ways, our roles were reversed, with her knowledge so much more worldly than mine. I am grateful that when the moving van arrived, it was next to her that I unpacked. This loveliest of neighbors is friendly, funny, and wise. I love her.

Some days I am shocked at my ridiculous insecurities. The smallest details can put me in a tailspin, sometimes difficult to right. Having been brought up with feminine ideals founded way before the 1970’s when I was a teenager, wires are crossed with old-fashioned thought that was outdated before I set out on my own. Now, fully capable of fielding any problem in this new solitary life of a Senior Citizen, many decisions are still fraught with hours of personal deliberation. Debating one’s self is exhausting because whichever side is chosen, the losing side is right there complaining, as well.

I am grateful for the patience I’ve found dealing with emotions in my sweet new relationship. I appreciate, even more so, rationale thoughts about the “shoulds” and “shouldn’ts” with which I sometimes flog myself. Remaining neutral and accepting of each new day has helped me to stay in the present and enjoy every minute. I am thankful for a peaceful heart.

As Oliver sleeps next to me, I’m thankful HE is my dog, sweet and smart. He puts up with my moods and nonsense, while knowing my sense of humor and what will make me perk up a bit. He loves me most sincerely, making sure I get plenty of hugs, as he presses his little body against mine. He listens to my requests and really tries his best to comply, except when garden lights or drip systems are involved, which results in doggie shame. His adorable little soul came to me on a bleak Christmas morning, when I had the ridiculous notion I might find him unsuitable, sending him back home. He was mine from the first hug; the silly puppy he remains.

My kids are slowly checking in with holiday wishes. How blessed I am that they were the ones to be placed in my care. Each one beautiful and sincere. I am so very thankful for their love and worry for me, their mom living so far away. It’s amazing to watch them reflect the parts of their dad and step dad that I miss this holiday, for the very first time. Miles can’t erase sweet memories. I am thankful for their love and concern.

I am thankful for Miss Firecracker, and her wit and wisdom. Today, she will be my dinner guest, as we share turkey and all the trimmings. Although both new widows, our luncheon will be defined by delicious smells and tastes, as we find lots to talk about this holiday. Dear friend that she is, she is such a blessing to me.

I am most Thankful for the woman I am becoming with the sunrise of every new day. I am thankful for every stranger that stepped up this year to hold my hand, or give me a hug when things were at their darkest. I am so thankful for my ability to forge my own path, although blurred through tears at time. I am so very thankful for the day in February when VST and I decided WINTERPAST was to be ours, and ultimately, mine.

I am thankful for the years of being a Wife to my lovable VST. I am thankful for all I have learned as I was forced into the position of Widow, which was not of my choosing. I am thankful for my present role as Woman, with many more experiences just around the bend. This is the best of times for us all to be thankful. Blessings do abound, we just need to stop and count them. Giving Thanks on this Thanksgiving Eve has set my brain in the right mode to find sleep and sweet dreams.

For you, my readers, please have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day. For my International readers, a day of thanks always lifts the spirit. Thank you for following my blog and helping my dreams become a reality.

Holidays. Everyone smiling while eating and drinking way too much. Families traveling long distances to get a hug. Love. Hope. Happiness. Togetherness. That’s the All-American ideal. How lovely it would be if everyone in the world could experience a perfect holiday just once. The reality is that there is no such thing as a perfect holiday or a perfect anything else for that matter. This is especially true when grief is one’s constant companion.

My first widowed holiday was not explainable to anyone else. The firsts are as unique as snowflakes. Each one has its own shape and beauty. It’s up to each individual to make the firsts liveable. That’s a tall order.

In December 2020, I was one lost soul. It had been nine months since becoming a widow and I’d managed to settle into a new home with one little dog. The newness of everything left me in a fog most days, while the slightest bump in the road could send me into tizzy.

Those early days, sleep was my only comfort. I prayed for angels to surround me each evening as the sun set, and then, I was out like a light. It mattered not that the clock said 5:30 pm. Suffering such a shock, my brain needed time to heal. Sleep cloaked the intense pain that comes with losing a husband.

That first Christmas, it wasn’t necessary to drag out all the decorations. I had no family that would be joining me for the big dinner I wouldn’t be preparing. All the decorations I’d used for years belonged to the bigger home in which I no longer lived. The thought of finding new spots for red and green was too overwhelming. That year, I chose to decorate with little poinsettias. That was the best I could do.

While preparing for this major milestone, each month I’d ordered a Christmas gift for myself. When they arrived, I’d wrap the unopened packages with monthly notes to myself. On Christmas Eve, I opened each one and read words reflecting a slow and steady healing. Oliver and I made it through that first holiday with the help of my one true friend, Miss Firecracker. It was her first Christmas alone, as well. Together, we made it through.

As you begin the holiday season, evaluate your traditions. Keep the ones that comfort you and ignore the ones that don’t. If you need company, invite people. If you need solitude, close the curtains and take a break. Only you know what will feel right.

During the sadness of that first year, one thing I could count on for comfort was my written words. If you want to know more about my first year as a widow, look back at my archives starting September, 2020. Firsts are messy. Firsts are tear-filled baskets of emotions. Just remember, they only happen once and that is a true blessing.

Whatever you do today, get out a calendar and start planning how you will survive December. Look for events that will provide comfort. It’s okay to boycott the holidays if they are too painful. Only you will know what feels just right. Personally, I’ve discoverd hot chocolate makes everything so much better.

More tomorrow.

Some days the news is great while some days the news can be quite sad. It’s with a heavy heart I must report that our colony of Saskatraz bees has died. We didn’t want to believe it was happening even though all the signs were there. In the end, they went without a whisper and we’re left with an empty hive.

In the beginning, they made the early spring trip over Donner Pass in the back of a pickup. They came as a nucleus colony (NUC) in a box holding five frames of eggs, larvae, and adults along with their queen. As they settled into their new neighborhood, everything looked swell. The queen, able to lay over 2 million eggs in her lifetime, was busy caring for her brood.

Neighbors and friends were quite supportive during our first year as beekeepers. We found new friends that went out of their way to give us helpful advice. Miss Queen of the Bees came over twice to treat our hive for mites. All the while, our bees never quite caught on to a good routine, becoming a bit confused about comb construction and brood distribution. As the days went by, the queen kept laying eggs.

Everything seemed great. The bees helped us enjoy bumper crops of cherries, apricots, apples, and plums. They loved our garden plants and we loved watching them.

Usually very calm and sweet, they did let us know when we crossed the line. HHH suffered over one dozen bee stings, being very lucky that he didn’t end up in the hospital. But through everything, the bees were wonderful neighbors who enjoyed a home in our backyard until they died.

In our area, we aren’t alone. Their death was not due to anything we did as beekeepers. I accept this as truth because many other “real” beekeepers suffered as we did. There was one big difference. We lost one colony. The “real” keepers lost hundreds.

In August, we learned 60 beekeepers lost over 600 hives for no obvious reason. These hives were placed all over Northwestern Nevada, some even living at Lake Tahoe. These were professionals whose hives failed this year. Miss Queen of the Beekeepers and her partner lost more than 30.

Before leaving on vacation, we noticed that the hive was under attack from hornets. A healthy hive will protect itself, fighting to the death. Just the sight of happy hornets stealing honey let us know the writing was on the wall. Our hive was on the verge of death.

Yesterday, I opened the hive without wearing my bee suit. It wasn’t necessary. Everyone was gone. Inside, winter honey had been neatly stored to get them through a hard winter. Starvation wasn’t the reason for their death. With no bee bodies present, it wasn’t a sudden poisoning either. And so, the mystery remains.

Many people have suggested reasons, but no one has come up with an answer. There are changes in both climate and the earth’s magnetic field. Plants bloomed at different times last year. A very early and long spring was followed by a cold snap. The fall was also very long. Some research is being done regarding the hours of cold weather a bee colony needs to survive. But, at this point, the mystery remains.

If you’ve ever thought about beekeeping as a hobby, do consider it. Although it IS one hobby that can KILL you, it’s also a hobby that helps the environment and garden health. For HHH and I, it’s something we plan to continue next year with a new queen and court.

More tomorrow.