Tag Archives: grief

Making Lemonade from Lemons

There are only seventeen days until our Old Key West Family Reunion. Seventeen days until I can hug my daughter, son-in-love and granddaughter. How exciting!

I am exhausted tonight:

  1. My increased walking has my muscles sore and tired.
  2. I watched my sweet baby granddaughter today, so I am weary.
  3. I tried a new recipe tonight for dinner, which took way longer than I expected, so that by the time we finally ate, I was super hangry (hungry + angry).
  4. And I am grieving for our dear friend and patron who passed away two days ago.

But here’s the thing:

  1. My muscles are sore, but it’s good sore. They are sore from exercising, instead of sore from being sedentary. Result!
  2. Each minute with Linnie, my baby granddaughter, is precious. It’s exhausting and exhilarating at the same time. I always feel so blessed after my time with this amazing baby!
  3. I tried a new recipe (my assignment from Noom) from Diabetic Living Magazine called Chicken & Wild Rice Casserole. There was a lot of pre-cooking, chopping, measuring, mixing, and finally baking. We ate over an hour later than usual, and by then I was cranky and famished. But dinner was absolutely delicious, and it turns out, well worth the wait. I will make this recipe again and again. It will be perfect for a cold winter’s night.
  4. I am grieving, This recently departed soul gave us so much, including a wonderful place to raise our kids and encouragement for Mike to be the best furniture designer and maker possible. But I am not without hope. “Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.”-Romans 5:5

And so I carry on. Meet me at the Kingdom.

Donna

PS: I highly recommend Diabetic Living Magazine. It has been such a help for healthy eating. And Noom is working out very well, too.

January 20, 2017

On this day of the inauguration of the 45th President of the United State, I choose to talk about the five stages of dealing with grief:

Denial–No he did not friggn’ win! Those were my exact thoughts as I laid my head on my pillow in the early morning hours after the election in November. This is a nightmare. It cannot be happening. And for the first time in my 61 years, I felt ashamed of my country. Ashamed of those who chose to not vote. Ashamed of those who I believed had blinders on when they cast their vote.

Anger–They say anger comes next, but I jumped right into bargaining.

Bargaining–I keep hoping that the electoral college would stand up and protest the results.

Depression–This followed very quickly on the heels of denial. If I could, I would have slept through the next four years, so as not to experience the train wreck that I fear is our future. Fear being the operative word here. This is the first time since 9/11 that I have experienced genuine fear for our country.

Now Anger–This has been the longest lasting of the stages for me. But I’m tired now. Tired of wasting my energy on anger. At a local restaurant today I overheard two young white men trying to convince an elderly couple that Hillary’s lost emails would prove that she was providing money to support ISIS. After I wiped up the coffee I choked on at that point I said, “Hey, you two, that is white supremacist propaganda. Lies! That is hate talk at its worst.”  The two young men looked at me sheepishly and left the restaurant.

So that’s what I’m choosing to do with my anger. If I see or hear anyone spouting racist, feminist, bigoted lies, and especially white supremacist crap, I will no longer remain silent. May God help me and direct me in this personal crusade.

Acceptance–Here is the next stop for me. I’ll get there, because when all is said and done I do respect the office of the presidency. You won’t hear me say, “He is not my president.” Why? Because I am an American, and for all that America has meant in the last 200+ years, good and bad, our democracy is still a beacon of freedom in this world. Using the transitive property: I am an American: he is the 45th president; therefore, he is my president.

May God help us all to heal and to survive this presidency.

Donna