Travelling Without You

 I’ve taken two trips without my husband in the nine months since he died.  I’m not sure I will try another.  I have forgotten how to enjoy myself fully without his reflection, his reaction, his smile, his laugh.  My companions try to make sure I’m included in activities, they walk a bit slower, they pose for pictures, but they don’t miss him like I do.  

He was that extra pair of hands to hold something for me, to carry my bag or my camera when the going got a bit tough, and to reach out and take my hand up the hills.  I miss that.  There were times when I know we would have shared one of those special looks that only those together for many, many years know and understand. I miss that. 

I miss seeing if he enjoyed the fish and chips in Ireland or if he complained that the dish was better at our local High Tide.  I needed him to explain the how and why of the Cliffs of Moher.  I depend on him to figure out what is wrong with the car and know what to do.  There is no one there to share it all with. 

I wonder if my brain will eventually adapt to his absence.  Will I ever be able to experience the highs and lows without his unique perspective? The dynamic of every group is different because he’s not with me.

It’s been too long since I was single. I’ve just forgotten how to do it.

Reaching Out to the Class of 1960

I haven’t posted to this blog in almost three years, but I recently received an email from a high school classmate, asking for life updates since, due to the coronavirus, we can’t hold a class reunion.  Here’s what I wrote:

How can it be 60 years since that senior party up at the lake, where I got in so much trouble? Or that time I stuck up for Dorothy Porterfield in Speech class and the teacher got so mad she walked out and didn’t come back for three days? That teacher kept me out of the National Honor Society because of that.  Seems like weeks ago, not years.

Anyway, my husband, Ron, and I have lived in the southeastern part of the Phoenix metro area, in Queen Creek, for the past 20 years. We happily left the cold, snow, humidity, traffic, and crowds of the east coast for the adobe walls, saguaro cactus, tacos and enchiladas of the Sonoran desert. Eventually, all the children followed us as they, too, got tired of scraping ice off the windshields. 

As the years went by, five grandchildren appeared, three boys and two girls, and now all but one of them has graduated from high school. One of my children obtained a Ph.D. In Biochemistry, one became a nurse specializing in head trauma, and the other is about to retire from 30 years of teaching and coaching.

Now, Ron and I are busier than ever, working on our “senior” careers.  He makes Adirondack chairs, footstools, and tables and has sold over 300 since he first made one for our house 5 years ago. I have an Etsy shop, Santanartist Silks, where I sell my hand-dyed silk scarves and fabric.

Our daughter also owns and breeds Arabian horses, and we are barn assistants, hay distributors, and manure techs.  The Scottsdale Arabian Show, held for two weeks in February, was one of the rewards of moving near Scottsdale.  We love being part of the Arabian community here and working to promote the breed. My favorite time of the year is April when the babies are born and being able to watch them begin their life journey. I am determined to see 22 more foal crops!

Happy to hear all of you still above ground. Keep moving, and learn something new every day,

Don't Send Your Kid to Rehab

Once again, one mother's world was shattered.  Rather than celebrating Mother's Day with her son, she found that he had overdosed on the day that should have been special and now will never be a day to celebrate.  Connor had just been released from rehab, and we can imagine that he and his family were excited to see him and support him as he moved forward with his life.  They did not know that a monster was under the bed.  And that monster, heroin, reached out and snatched that young man, adding his name to the other thousands who have overdosed because their bodies could not now tolerate what he had become accustomed to before he went into rehab.  Even though addicts are told, over and over, that their release is a dangerous time, the monster overrides that message.  

These deaths are totally preventable.  There is a drug that removes the cravings and blocks the effect of opiates.  It can be administered as an injection that lasts for a month.  It can give an addict time to arrange for medication-assisted treatment once they are released.  It can allow the addict's brain to continue to heal so that the addict now possesses an ability to fight the monster.  This drug is naltrexone.  You may have heard of the "Vivitrol shot."  It can save lives if we use it.

All of us should campaign for rehab facilities, prisons, and jails to offer incentives for addicts who agree to the shot before they are released.  We are losing a generation to the ravages of drug addiction.  Let’s give them a chance to stay alive.  

You Can't Handle the Truth

You’ll hear it said that the Republican Party has an identity problem and that, after this election, the party leaders will have some real soul-searching to do.

There is a large swath of the electorate who feel they've been left behind and that nobody cares about them, their lives, or their children.  These are the people that Trump attracts.  Unfortunately for them, his promises to them are lies.  He could never deliver on those promises.  There will be no wall.  There will be no deportation force.  He doesn't seem to understand how legislation gets passed in a democracy.  Congress will never approve any of his plans that cost too much.  

But the problem is that those people aren’t going away once the election is over.  They are convinced, now, that the jobs that have been lost in the Rust Belt can be magically brought back by a wizard with orange hair, and that if he loses the election it will be because our democracy has failed.  He should tell them the truth: that those jobs are gone forever and illegal immigrants didn’t take them.  A new economy and technology did.  

I live in Arizona and I have an Etsy shop selling hand dyed silk.  I received an order yesterday from a woman in a village in the United Kingdom.  I will ship her silk that I buy from China.  That's the kind of interconnected world we live in now.  There are between 6.7 and 9.7 million people who are making a living selling on eBay.  Another 1.6 million are active sellers on Etsy.  They may not even show up in the employment statistics, but they are independent entrepreneurs who are not depending on the government to make everything OK.   

It is a global economy and candidates who don't recognize that truth are dangerous.  

My heart goes out to those Trump supporters who haven't learned to think critically; who don't read a variety of opinions in order to decide what makes sense to them; who resemble the German populace in the Hitler days, following a pied piper who is as ill-informed as they are.