worry Archives - Art & Words

Picking Up Where I Left Off?

No, there is really no picking up where I left off… it would be a reasonable assumption, but in this case, too much has happened. Life changes so quickly – we all know this of course – but sometimes that change and the rapidity with which it occurs, is shocking.

Time off for a real vacation

In May my husband and I went on a much-needed vacation. We had decided to use some serious vacation time, which we rarely do, and decided to make it a road trip. It was fantastic, truly, entailing some stunning hiking in Shenandoah National Park where we stayed up in the mountains in a fabulous lodge; a few nights at Virginia Beach, enjoying time on the shore and the ease and relaxation that beach visits tend to bring; and seeing our daughter and her partner, which of course is always a highlight. At the end of our trip we stopped to see my mother-in-law for a few days.

Unexpected tragedy

I’m not going to go into details of what happened, other than to say that while we were there we needed to take my mother-in-law to the ED, where she received a terrible diagnosis, and after only a mere few weeks, passed away from her illness. Since then we have of course had a funeral, and have dealt with the responsibilities of clearing out her apartment, settling her affairs, etc.

It has been an unexpectedly very difficult summer. And of course, more grieving. The grieving process has really only just begun because the past two months have been overwhelming with busyness – too many things to take care of, too many people’s feelings to assuage, as well as family tensions, and many trips out of state to take care of things.

Home again (and not exactly picking up where I left off!)

I am home now, and rather than picking up where I left off, I am looking at the future with yet again new eyes. And yet again a sense of bewilderment and uncertainty. It seems the older I get, the less certain things become, rather than the more certain.

As always, thank you for visiting, and please don’t hesitate to reach out with questions or comments, or just to say hello.

~ Nellie

p.s. the hike in the photo above was just an easy but beautiful trail right off Skyline Drive, called Stony Man Trail. If you ever are fortunate to visit Skyline, I would highly recommend it!

The Toughest Part

Personal

Almost every day I receive a comprehensive email update from the director of the nursing home where my dad lives. He’s been there a couple years now, since his last stroke, and it is his home – the nurses and personal aides, custodial and maintenance staff, and his friends and neighbors there, are all another family to him. At this time, of course, nursing homes seem to be almost in a different world as we go through this COVID-19 crisis. As the numbers in Connecticut just start to improve overall – and here in Vermont they’re already getting ready to reopen the state – nursing homes continue to be in a very desperate situation. As I watch the news and see improvements around the country, my worry only grows, as the cases in my dad’s nursing home, and in his own unit, grow.

He is in good spirits. He has always ultimately answered difficulty and tragedy with some kind of open acceptance, that allows not just for the given pain and sadness, but also for the welcoming of joy and renewal; underlying his suffering is an insistence on positivity, that he must eventually come to. He doesn’t always understand what is going on in this situation. Some days he recalls there’s a virus, some days he recalls how serious it is because he’s had the news on all day. Some days he has forgotten why everyone there is on lockdown and unable to go outside or have loved ones visit. Most days he sounds good, we laugh frequently during our talks, and he may get tired of us asking him day after day, how he is feeling.

This is the toughest part of the pandemic for me, so far. I’m fortunate to have not lost income through this (at least not yet), and although the availability of food and other supplies has been a bit strained at times, I have enough on hand to not go hungry. But, this toughest part is tough enough. I have come close to losing my dad before, quite a number of times since I was very young. Just last fall the doctors at YNHH were telling me he may not survive the pneumonia he had. A week later he was home and recovering, and had forgotten his stay at the hospital. This is different, because this is so horrible and unpredictable an illness for so many, and given stay at home orders and obvious limitations in health care settings, I could not even be by his side, or even one room away.

I hesitate to even talk too much about this. I felt it was inevitable that his home would be struck with this. I don’t feel an inevitability with anything else, but I’m aware it’s all possible, of course. Unlike much else, it is truly entirely out of my control – there is literally nothing I can do about this situation to change it, and that makes me realize that giving in to worry is pointless. The worry is there, always, but it is not governing my actions.

I do sometimes wish I had the ability to meet every hardship with easy laughter, with a sort of innocent, trusting bravery. My bravery is different. Cautious optimism and confidence underlie much of how I approach difficult times, humor to some degree. I also tend toward the proactive, determined, and passionate approach. Those things will make little difference in this case. So, I am left with a sense of surrender. It seems to be all that is really available to me, as each day comes.

Thanks for reading,

~ Nellie

photo: Sandy Point State Reservation, Plum Island, Ipswich, MA; one of my favorite places anywhere.

Pandemic living

Personal

Looking out my door you would not know anything unusual was going on. I live on an old dirt road with few neighbors, surrounded by fields and with a view to the mountains. So far I’ve been fortunate… I haven’t lost income so I can still afford food and groceries, and so far no one close to me has shown any symptoms.

Inside, I’m pretty darn worried. Not about myself. I mean, I don’t want to get this, it sounds absolutely horrendous and there’s no guarantee that it wouldn’t have a serious outcome, but I’m actively worried about a few people very close to me, who are in high risk groups or live in high-risk places or hotspots.

Yesterday my husband and I got our first delivery from Misfits Market. This is a fantastic place that provides fresh organic veggies and fruits, that are often considered “ugly” – when I worked at a gourmet market in CT, veggies that were misshapen or somehow not deemed perfect were called “shrink,” and in the case of the store I worked at, were donated to a food shelf; many places simply throw them away. I’m perfectly happy – actually I’m thrilled – to have these veggies and fruits! We’re having most of our food delivered now, following the stay at home orders in the state and avoiding spreading whatever germs we might be walking around with (and avoiding picking up whatever germs might be walking around out there), and so far it has not been a problem at all. My biggest food-related concern was running out of almond (or some other plant-based) milk for coffee and tea, and it did start to get tough when the only fresh veggies we had left in the house were potatoes, carrots, garlic, and ginger. Misfits arrived just in time, and we were astonished by the quantity, and the quality. Everything beautiful (forget “imperfect!” they’re all wonderful), and everything we’ve tried so far has tasted great – it’s all organic.

This makes me feel wildly fortunate of course, and it’s a hard message to believe, that my staying home is somehow a great contribution to the wellness of our country. My inclination is to be out there, also on the frontlines, doing something other than residing in the safety of my home, with my favorite person.

But, it is what it is. For personal reasons I’m not putting myself at risk because it would potentially put my husband at risk, and having come incredibly close to losing him to a horrific illness once already, I am taking no chances now.

So, my biggest struggle through this is avoiding the constant stream of news on the TV and on my phone or inbox, and falling into some kind of melodramatic sense of despair. I regularly check the news for Vermont (where I am), and the tristate area (NY & CT mainly) where my dad and much of my family live. I practically count the days, knowing that as we get farther along it gets more and more likely I’ll see people I know and love among the numbers, and though that doesn’t wake or keep me up at night, it freaks me out at various random moments each day.

So anyway, above is a pic of my new veggies, which I was so excited about I felt like I was bringing home a puppy 😊 What are sort of hidden under the Rainbow Chard are lots of apples, tiny Shishito chile peppers, and a bunch of what turned out to be really delicious green radishes. I hope that whoever might be reading this, whatever you’re going through, it’s no harder a time than what I’m going through.

xoxo

~ Nellie