Secret Grieving

I’m experiencing waves of grief off and on throughout the day and can’t discuss it with anyone buy Newel yet.  If the secret comes to be, an era in my life will end, but another one will begin—maybe a really good one that could change the tears to smiles and laughter.  In the meantime, I keep the kleenex box close by.  I can’t predict when a wave will wash over me.

I don’t need this on top of another bout of poor communication with my pain doctor and the start of the rainy season here in western Washington, and more signs of senility in my 91-year-old dad………..  More later.

Winning and Losing

Tonight Newel and I attended a Church dinner where we raced our own Pinewood Derby cars.  Newel’s car competed three times and won once.  I competed twice and came in second each time (i.e., lost).  We were winners though because we lost in style!

Newel crafted both cars………so cute!  His was an old fashioned Indy 500 racer and mine was a Tin Lizzie!  I called it my “Wood Whizzie”!  When I told him what I wanted, he went on line and got a picture of a Tin Lizzie and worked from that.  Both cars are little works of art.  My car won a box of See’s Candies for being the most creative design.  My “Wood Whizzie” is a good example of how I think and feel about myself.  I don’t like to do things like everyone else—I love to be creative.  Next time I’m going to try to craft my own car.  It all was good for my spirits.

My chronic pain has killed off all my old creative pursuits, and tonight I felt a little spark lighten up the dark.

Update of my Tail of Pain

I’m still sitting on my painful tailbone, waiting for the doctor’s office to receive permission from Medicare for a second try at hitting the right spot with the spinal cord stimulator.  Pills help enough to keep taking them, but they cover about half the pain or less.

I don’t know where I’d be without Medicare, but it is socialized medicine, and I have to put up with the beaurocracy! (SpellCheck wouldn’t spell that word for me and I’m too tired to go get a dictionary.) It’s bureaucracy!  I got the dictionary; I couldn’t stand it. My brain is as tired as my tail.                

Grandchild Alert!

Leif, Freja, Britta and I just had a good tramp in the woods.  We ate the last of the blackberries, kicked over mushrooms big as bird nests, and hacked our way through the brush with Freja and Leif’s new scythes (wooden) made in Grandpa’s shop.

Britta is a living, walking example of why toddlers are called “toddlers”.  In her little purple boots, that match her purple striped dress, with her blond pony tails bobbing along she toddled over the pathways.  This is why my blog page starts with “Grandchildren”.  All of them are the apples of my eyes!

I’m glad right now that we haven’t moved to Utah.  It’s much too beautiful here.

Next week we will try once more to replace the leads on my stimulator to see if we can get it in the right spot for maximum benefit.  More waiting, but worth it in the long run—I hope.