Blog Parties and Invisibility Cloaks

The silver "invisibility" or "superhero" cape -- perfect for caregivers for the holidays!

If you've followed me on Twitter, Facebook, or here at the blog, you know that Thanksgiving sucked for me. But, I recovered nicely, mainly because I was grateful that dad had a great time with his friends. Plus, my brother called, and -- despite my initial nausea over the smell of my husband's turkey -- that meat sure was good on a sandwich.

Next up -- the "real" holidays. Christmas, Boxing Day, Hanukkah, whatever individuals celebrate during December. I'm dreading the upcoming holidays and all the traditions that go with them. In a discussion with other caregivers and family members who lost their loved ones this past year to bile duct cancer, one woman said, "Christmas will even be worse" than Thanksgiving. I thought, "Wow -- I don't know if I want to project that far ahead," but then another woman agreed that the holidays will be worse, and then another woman agreed...

So, maybe Christmas will be worse than Thanksgiving, but I'm going to do everything I possibly can to reverse that direction for myself. Someone else asked if it was acceptable to be "peacefully inactive" for the holidays. Of course! Even more so, it would be wonderful if caregivers could become invisible. Just for a few hours, maybe, or a day...and, in the right situation, maybe for an entire week through New Year. What if we could wear an invisibility cloak that could serve us throughout the entire year when needed?

So I went hunting for an invisibility cloak and I found one at an Etsy shop based in England. This cape is not for me, however. I'm giving it away through Caregiving.com's upcoming Caregiving Holiday Blog Party. I've posted a link for this event in the right column on this site. If you cannot see that red background photo, please let me know and just use the link in this paragraph. Those links can take you to the event page to learn more about how to win this cape and at least five other prizes during the week between December 7th and 13th.

Many thanks to Cat and her to her Etsy invisibility capabilities! I'm excited about providing a caregiver with a way to become invisible anytime he or she wants. What a great gift, period, for any caregiver!

The Holidays for Caregivers

What will Christmas be like without mom? I'm about to find out, with support from the folks at Caregiving.com...

The holidays will never be the same after a death of someone close to you. Even if that person got under your skin, something in you will expect that irritation -- especially during the holidays. That voice! Will it stay in your head forever?

On the other hand, the loss can be overwhelming. Not only is a loved one gone, but your life has changed. Forever. There's no pulling a cat out of a hat on that one. What are you feeling now? Rage? Frustration? Guilt?

No matter what you're feeling (if you survived Thanksgiving, that is), you might find comfort in the holiday survival articles posted at Caregiving.com. The "Attitudes on Platitudes" gave me my first laugh-out-loud moment yesterday. "Bah Humbug? A True Tale of Christmas" showed me how I have the power to alter my holiday traditions to make a new history for myself and my family. "Ten Signs an Aging Relative Needs Help" helped me decide if my remaining parent needs help or if I need help...(reading halfway through the list made me realize I'm in dire straits!).

I invite you to snoop around at Caregiving.com to see if this site fits your needs. I know, while caregiving, that little time is spent on what the caregiver needs or wants...and it takes time to commit to dedicating yourself to a group of individuals who may really understand you and care about you...but, hey. During the holidays, it might be just what you need.

Membership is free. Just join us. Now.

The Writers' Retreat

Writing away at the writers' retreat.

I am so very grateful for contributions to my Indiegogo campaign -- which is almost at an end. Thanks to my supporters, I was able to attend the Green River Writers retreat at the Kavanaugh Center in Crestwood, Kentucky, this past weekend, where I had access to solitude for writing, to writers who offered constructive criticism for my poetry (which is going into the memoir), and an opportunity to read part of my memoir to a discerning audience.

I'll never read that piece in front of an audience again. The part I chose was the third section, where my mother dies. The part about breathe. I actually lost my breathe while reading the piece aloud. One fellow writer thought -- just for a second -- that I was acting, then realized that I was almost in distress. But, I pulled it out of the hat; although, today I'm exhausted. Reading that one particular portion of the memoir wore me out as much as swimming the English Channel (not that I can swim, mind you).

I haven't been able to attend a Green River retreat for three years. The last time I attended a retreat, my mother was in apparent good health. It was a constant marvel to me how the past two years flew by, how quickly a story can become a dark memory that's so easily tucked into a corner. By forcing myself to get out, reconnect, and read and write, I'm forcing myself to connect to my mother's death over and over again. I can take it...I hope, though, that none of my perceptions are warped in the process.

This is why it's so important for me to write now, when memories are fresh.

Other highlights this past weekend:

1. My laptop is biting the dust. Crap.
2. Met George Eklund at the retreat and learned about some of his creative poetry processes.
3. I reconnected with several friends who also lost spouses, parents, and friends over the past three years.
4. I connected with new friends who also lost spouses, parents, and friends over the past few years.

One writer friend lost 29 friends -- some close, some not-so-close -- over the past year. We can't figure out if all these losses are normal at our ages, or if we're actually transitioning into a Stephen King novel. The cancer losses are breathtaking.

You can view some photos I took at the conference if you want to feel more connected, too. I'm into black and white photography right now, as you'll learn. I think someone took a photo of me along the way, but I'm not certain. I do have witnesses.

Letters from the Past

Letters, negatives, and other paraphernalia.

Mom left behind a lot of "things" to go through. I don't like her stealthy way of hiding recipes (which all can found found online save a few), coupons (some dated to 2005 or earlier), and newspaper clippings. Other items, like the box filled with letters that her parents wrote the month before mom was born in 1934, are well worth discovering.

I went through this box of letters a few nights ago. Being an historian, I recognized the value of these letters. They're not just love letters filled with endearments...they're artifacts that give a glimpse into what life was like in Virginia in August, 1934.

At that time, my grandmother, Elizabeth, was living in Roanoke. Her husband of barely nine months, Leo, was stationed as a National Guard recruit in Virginia Beach. It was four years into the Great Depression, and my grandparents note the cost of several items. They also talk about borrowing $3.00 like it was a burden and a sin. And, yet, they're about to have their first child together.

I think these letters might make for yet another book...