Michael and I loved to travel. In our nearly nine years together, we visited many fun and even exotic places, including Hawaii, Rio de Janiero and Buzios (Brazil), Montreal (three times), Puerto Vallarta, Greece (Mykonos, Santorini, and Athens), Spain (Madrid and Toledo), Italy (Florence, Pisa, Rome), Turkey, San Francisco, South Florida (Miami, South Beach, Lauderdale, and Naples), Las Vegas, New Mexico (Albuquerque and Santa Fe), Boston and Ptown, and DC. We had planned on going to England this spring to see our dear friend, Tim, who we met on the Mediterranean cruise about six years ago.
Then Michael died and changed everything.
However I have decided to make the trip to England, and I recently purchased my ticket. I plan on staying with Tim for five or so days, visit a former co-worker in Chicester for a day, travel to Paris for four days via the chunnel, head to Leicester and Shakespeare country for a few days to see Facebook friends before heading home. I plan on meeting up with our friend, Stephen, who has been on a social worker exchange in London for the past 18 months. I also plan on meeting several Facebook friends who I've only known online for the past few years.
Through our travels, we met so many wonderful people and saw such beautiful places. We always looked forward to where our next travels and new adventures were going to take us. Even though Michael isn't going to be there with me in person on this trip, I know that he will be with me in spirit. Everywhere I go, I will have a part of him with me.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
This Valentine's Day
Today marks another one of the reminders that Michael is gone from this physical world. I've been thinking a lot about our first Valentine's Day together and the romantic evening we shared. I yearn for that closeness with him again. Now that he's gone, I focus on memories like this and our spiritual connection to help me get through the rough patches.
I'm grateful that we both had the same outlook on Valentine's Day. We didn't need one day a year to go overboard and tell each other "I love you" and how we felt about each other. Instead we told each other every day how much we loved each other. I challenge anyone reading this to look at not only your romantic relationships, but all your relationships in this manner. Take time and tell the people in your life what they mean to you. You don't have to make an ordeal with cards, flowers, and candy. Leave a little note on the kitchen counter that expresses your feelings. Do something small that you don't normally do, like the dishes, and give him/her a little kiss and thank you for being in your life. You never know when your loved one will be gone, so cherish every moment as if it's your last.
Michael may be gone in this physical world, but I still feel his presence with me every day when I think of him and the times we shared. I don't need Valentine's Day to know how much he loved me and I loved him.
I'm grateful that we both had the same outlook on Valentine's Day. We didn't need one day a year to go overboard and tell each other "I love you" and how we felt about each other. Instead we told each other every day how much we loved each other. I challenge anyone reading this to look at not only your romantic relationships, but all your relationships in this manner. Take time and tell the people in your life what they mean to you. You don't have to make an ordeal with cards, flowers, and candy. Leave a little note on the kitchen counter that expresses your feelings. Do something small that you don't normally do, like the dishes, and give him/her a little kiss and thank you for being in your life. You never know when your loved one will be gone, so cherish every moment as if it's your last.
Michael may be gone in this physical world, but I still feel his presence with me every day when I think of him and the times we shared. I don't need Valentine's Day to know how much he loved me and I loved him.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Relevant Daily Meditation
Taking time to breathe and meditating has given me great peace since Michael's death. I can definitely say I've become more of a spiritual person and paying more attention to what my spirit, body, and mind are telling me. Some days I'm busier than others and I may only get five or so minutes at night before I go to bed. I try to shut off all stimuli, read a daily affirmation, and focus on the breaths. Other times I spend a bit more time and focus on the mediation and what the Spirit (God, Allah, etc.) is telling or showing me.
When basketball ends and I have more regular time on my hands, I have made a goal of spending at least 15 minutes a day meditating. It gives me a chance to focus on the good in my life and to be thankful.
One recent meditation was so relevant in where I am right now that I wanted to share a part of it:
Meditating keeps me centered and focused on what is truly important in my life -- my family and friends, my health, my ability to pay for things I need (and want), and my ability to love and be loved.
When basketball ends and I have more regular time on my hands, I have made a goal of spending at least 15 minutes a day meditating. It gives me a chance to focus on the good in my life and to be thankful.
One recent meditation was so relevant in where I am right now that I wanted to share a part of it:
When we experience the death of someone or something dear to us, we may experience some emotions of sadness, anger, and grief. They are natural and not to be suppressed or resisted. They clamor for our attention so that we don't miss the need and the opportunity to give sacred awareness to the end of one experience and the beginning of a new one. They are indicators of a sacred event for the soul. In this way, we may bring hospice to the old and birth the new.
When we experience emotions like sadness, it is good to take heed and ask if the emotions are pointing to some aspect of life that needs attention. When we have been rightly redirected, then we can give the appropriate consideration, acknowledging how we feel and yet approaching the feelings with equanimity.
Meditating keeps me centered and focused on what is truly important in my life -- my family and friends, my health, my ability to pay for things I need (and want), and my ability to love and be loved.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
February 3rd and My Christmas Tree
I'm sitting here typing this post with my Christmas tree still up and still illuminated. Call me crazy. Although I regretted putting it up (thankfully Carrie and Angie helped me), I am glad I did because it now gives me comfort. I come home to a dark, quiet house at night, and I can turn on the tree's lights, and I don't feel so alone. In fact, having the tree up decorated with all the decorations we purchased together over the years became an important tradition. We bought most of them, of course, at Pottery Barn and Target. He was always on the lookout for finding beautiful glass ornaments during the after-Christmas sales. No surprise that we didn't pay full price for any of them.
When Michael went to New England the week before he died with his mom, he purchased a couple different ornaments. I now have them on the tree, and I often look at them and think about him. One is a witch ball that he purchased in Salem, Massachusetts. The big purple glass ball is believed to be able to catch spirits in it, and you can look at it and see different shards of glass blown in it to give it that feeling. The other is actually a pair of little glass red lobsters he purchased in Maine.
One of our last nights together before he died, he pulled the ornaments out of their bags to show them to me. He had such a good time with him mom, and he was so excited for us to take a trip to New England so he could take me to the little shops where he purchased them. He was so happy with them and couldn't wait until Christmas to put them on the tree. Although I couldn't go on the trip, he said these ornaments were a way to help me feel like I had been on the trip with him -- and now they do connect me to him more than he had ever planned.
I really have no plans on taking the tree down anytime soon. Especially during the cold dreary days of winter, the lights reflecting off the ornaments help me just a little bit. This evening after my game for some reason was hard. I've felt a rush of sorrow and pain from missing him -- even though the dull pain has never left. I lie awake at night and think about where he is and how his spirit is. I hope with every ounce of my being that he's happy and at peace. For now, I have the Christmas tree in February to help me find a little peace. Today I really need it.
When Michael went to New England the week before he died with his mom, he purchased a couple different ornaments. I now have them on the tree, and I often look at them and think about him. One is a witch ball that he purchased in Salem, Massachusetts. The big purple glass ball is believed to be able to catch spirits in it, and you can look at it and see different shards of glass blown in it to give it that feeling. The other is actually a pair of little glass red lobsters he purchased in Maine.
One of our last nights together before he died, he pulled the ornaments out of their bags to show them to me. He had such a good time with him mom, and he was so excited for us to take a trip to New England so he could take me to the little shops where he purchased them. He was so happy with them and couldn't wait until Christmas to put them on the tree. Although I couldn't go on the trip, he said these ornaments were a way to help me feel like I had been on the trip with him -- and now they do connect me to him more than he had ever planned.
I really have no plans on taking the tree down anytime soon. Especially during the cold dreary days of winter, the lights reflecting off the ornaments help me just a little bit. This evening after my game for some reason was hard. I've felt a rush of sorrow and pain from missing him -- even though the dull pain has never left. I lie awake at night and think about where he is and how his spirit is. I hope with every ounce of my being that he's happy and at peace. For now, I have the Christmas tree in February to help me find a little peace. Today I really need it.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Others Remembering Michael
I'm still so overwhelmed by the impact Michael made on so many people's lives. Most days I'm reminded by it when people share a memory about him with me. I already knew that he was an incredible human being with a generous soul and full heart; I do find comfort in knowing that others realize that fact as well and miss him.
The Bag Ladies have done a couple small tributes to him (and the other men the gay community has lost this past year, all at such young ages). During the holiday fundraiser, a drag queen sang a song with pictures on the TVs that looked back at the past year. The last few images were ones of those we lost, including one of Michael. On Sunday, Cadillac Barbie did a special tribute during her inaugural disco brunch for those we've lost this year, including Michael. She sang Diana Ross's "Missing You", one of my favorites. I've actually listened to that song again and again since Michael's death. Michael and I had bartended at Pride the past two years, and he was a valued part of the community. The tears rolled during both performances, both out of missing him but also out of appreciation for people not forgetting him.
My sister shared a story with me today that touched my heart and brought tears to my eyes. She forwarded me an email from my almost 9-year-old nephew's teacher, which I'll share here:
The Bag Ladies have done a couple small tributes to him (and the other men the gay community has lost this past year, all at such young ages). During the holiday fundraiser, a drag queen sang a song with pictures on the TVs that looked back at the past year. The last few images were ones of those we lost, including one of Michael. On Sunday, Cadillac Barbie did a special tribute during her inaugural disco brunch for those we've lost this year, including Michael. She sang Diana Ross's "Missing You", one of my favorites. I've actually listened to that song again and again since Michael's death. Michael and I had bartended at Pride the past two years, and he was a valued part of the community. The tears rolled during both performances, both out of missing him but also out of appreciation for people not forgetting him.
My sister shared a story with me today that touched my heart and brought tears to my eyes. She forwarded me an email from my almost 9-year-old nephew's teacher, which I'll share here:
"Independent work time tends to be difficult for Ethan. This seems to be when he often loses his focus. Also, he was teary today. When asked what was on his mind, he mentioned that it was "personal". Later he came back to me and said he was upset about a death in your family. He has brought up a friend of the family... a younger man who lived in Indy and was a friend of his uncle's. I'm sorry I can't recall his name. This matter has come up with Ethan 3-4 times throughout the year. It seems to be on his mind from time to time in class. Just FYI."
Michael was such a great man.
The Ice Bringeth Sadness
Right now the sleet is coming down, leaving us with what the forecasters are saying could be the worst ice storm central Indiana has seen in years. The office was closed today, and I slept in until 1 p.m. I piddled around the house, visited Skip and Nancy next door, and had a late lunch at Steer-In. The forecasters are saying we're supposed to be hit even harder tonight, with up to an inch of ice.
I've planned ahead in case the power goes out. I have my flashlight, wood ready for the fire, blankets, and lots of candles. I really wish Michael were here with me. Moments like this really remind me that I'm alone now, and he's gone. If he were here, we'd probably be on the couch together, wrapped up in a blanket and watching TV with a fire going. I yearn for moments like that so much.
He hated this type of weather. I can hear him complaining and wishing we were in Florida or some other warm location where we didn't have to put up with this weather. We often talked about retirement and how we'd buy a cozy little house or condo in southern Florida to get away from the cold wintry weather. The storm just reminds me again of how that dream of so many is gone.
Accepting that he's gone is still a bit difficult for me. It still feels like a terrible nightmare that I'll finally wake up from, but I know in my head, this is my new reality. I must focus on the good in my life right now and take one breath at a time. I can start to have new dreams again for my future. I just wish he were a part of them.
I've planned ahead in case the power goes out. I have my flashlight, wood ready for the fire, blankets, and lots of candles. I really wish Michael were here with me. Moments like this really remind me that I'm alone now, and he's gone. If he were here, we'd probably be on the couch together, wrapped up in a blanket and watching TV with a fire going. I yearn for moments like that so much.
He hated this type of weather. I can hear him complaining and wishing we were in Florida or some other warm location where we didn't have to put up with this weather. We often talked about retirement and how we'd buy a cozy little house or condo in southern Florida to get away from the cold wintry weather. The storm just reminds me again of how that dream of so many is gone.
Accepting that he's gone is still a bit difficult for me. It still feels like a terrible nightmare that I'll finally wake up from, but I know in my head, this is my new reality. I must focus on the good in my life right now and take one breath at a time. I can start to have new dreams again for my future. I just wish he were a part of them.
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