Walking the dog

I've been comparatively busy this past month, visiting friends in Texas for a week, getting ready for my daughter's baby shower. While in Texas I made it through what would have been my son's 25th birthday. I spent the morning walking and letting myself remember lots of happy memories, as well as some sad ones. It's okay to hurt, it's okay to feel, because then after I rant
and rave I can calm down and get back closer to normal. It's when I totally try to suppress the pain that it builds and becomes intolerable and freezes me.

This morning I made fondant for decorating the cupcakes I am taking to the shower, and I'm very happy about the way my sample turned out. Before cleaning up I needed to give my back a break, and having missing my morning walk decided we needed to go out. As I put on my walking shoes I asked my pup Kaylee if she wanted to go for a walk. Yes, yes, she pantomimed, bouncing around me and giving me kisses as I bent down to tie my laces. We headed out, me listening to "The Return of the King" on tape and her sniffing, sniffing, sniffing everything we passed. This is only possible because her nose is longer than her legs, and as she trots along her nose is at the ground without effort, sweeping this way and that, scoping out our path. We have walked to the pond and back enough times now that she knows what to expect. She knows I will let her say hello to the black and white cat that hangs out in front of the house we pass just before hitting the bike path that borders the water. And she remembers we have a place to rest a bit when we are about half way. A mile walk is fairly easy for me, but she will be panting before we reach home, having run almost the whole way. As we walk I can't help but notice how bright the day is, with big fat white clouds lumbering across a blue sky, their soft grey bottoms releasing the occasional raindrop. But mostly it's sunny, the wind a wonderful counter to the heat, and I feel blessed to have such a beautiful day to walk in, and such a wonderful companion to walk with.

Tomorrow my SO and I are going to an archery shoot, and will spend the day tramping around the hills. Kaylee is not trained well enough to go with us yet, but shows great promise. She listens well, and I have taken her to our local range with great success, so next Spring she will be going to shoots with us. Funny how it has taken the love of a little dog to help me start caring about life again.

A note about the homicide case: both defendants have been formally sentenced, the man who actually hit and killed my son was given a deal for lack of physical evidence, so he will only get 14 years. The DA's office is of the opinion that with his record, he will extend that by either misbehaving in prison, or breaking parole once out. It's taking me some time to assimilate this, I waited two years for the trial, and now it's all over, done, finished. Weird, strange, wrong...I miss my son, I want nothing more than to hug him and tell him everything is going to be okay. As time goes by and his memory doesn't fade I become less afraid of losing him; in some small measure it is like a part of him is still with me, and that will have to make do for the rest of my life. Big Sigh. But now I catch myself becoming morose, and that means it's time to log off and find something positive...like the joy I find in my little dog. It's not just the devil that's in the details.

Calories

Part of my therapy the past two years has been to focus on food and learning about what entails healthy eating so my body will be ready when my mind finally catches up. As part of that journey I have kept a spreadsheet that has gradually grown into a personal tracker for my macro nutrients (protein, fat, carbs) as well as fiber and sodium in an attempt to restrict the bad things and increase the good ones. I have used several online utilities to collect a listing of common foods so that I can just cut and paste from the main list to my daily tabs. This past year I added a summary tab that feeds from the daily sheets so I could track by week, thinking that a weekly average would be a better assessment of my eating habits. After reading The China Study and Dr. Fuhrman's Eat to Live I also added formulas to calculate the percentages of proteins, fats & carbs so that I could start to lean away from the SAD (standard American diet) and towards a more nutritious way of eating. I don't track my food like this everyday, but wanting to make sure I am making progress I do track a week's worth of food every once in a while to check on my percentages. Why am I writing all of this? Because I came across an anomaly. My weekly percentages were off from my daily ones. And when I looked closer to figure out why, it became apparent that the calories were wrong on most of the foods I had listed. Almost every statistic I had gleaned from either book or online resource listed calories different than what their components indicated. As far as I know only macro nutrients have calories, so when you add up their caloric value it should equal the calories on the nutrition label, no? So, while I hate to use Kashi as an example because they are a healthier choice for what they are, it was convenient to use. Note: The 'errors' were not limited to processed foods; fruits & veggies were just as likely to be off in calories listed. My little sample chart illustrates the apparent discrepancies, and I say apparent because I am not a nutritionist and maybe I am just missing something very basic. As I finish ranting I realize that most of the time I am not counting calories anymore, and I shouldn't let this upset me, but when I do count I want it to be accurate. And how many others out there trying to lose weight by counting calories are adding perhaps hundreds of hidden calories to their diet and wondering why they are not losing weight? After all, the reason so many online resources (food lists, calculators etc) have popped up is because people want to know about what they are eating, more of us are journaling our food and trying to be responsible for what we eat, so shouldn't it be accurate? So while I am usually eating plants and trying not to worry about calories, I want the ones I do worry about to be an honest reflection of what I am eating.

Starting to wrap it up

Re: My son's death on 2/16/06
Where to begin...We spent a week in trial in July, and the first defendant was found guilty of murder in the 1st. Two years ago when first arrested he had given a statement confessing to his part in the deed, and the DA did a great job of presenting the case. Unfortunately he refused to testify against the primary defendant, and there was no physical evidence, so they offered the 2nd guy a deal and he will only do a total of 12 years. The sentences are reversed from what they probably should be, but this is life, not CSI. We have the right to voice our opinion or make a statement at the sentencing hearing, but we decided we had lost enough of our lives to this craziness. They both have mandatory sentences, and it isn't like our words will change anything. I could wish they spend their time feeling our pain, or learning a lesson, or some such thing...but again...real life here; they will have their hands full playing the prison game. In a couple of more weeks when the sentencing is over, well, then what? I know that it isn't just opening a door and all of a sudden everything is in brilliant colour, and I do feel I have been making small steps forging my way through the grief, but sometimes - like today - I feel like it will never be enough. That I will never take enough steps to get to the other side. I had a moment today; I was riding my bike (yay, off the couch) and instead of my usual audio book I was listening to 'Across the Universe' on my ipod. The music was so happy, so gutsy, and the wind felt wonderful, that perfect blend of cool and refreshing on a warm day, and I felt strong on the bike. Standing on the pedals to stretch my calves out and lifting my nose to the breeze I felt good. I felt for just a moment like I was alive again. It was probably the sugar rush from the cookies my SO brought home this afternoon, but still, drug induced or not, I felt different. I caught that glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel for a second, and then the mad hit. The anger that I can't seem to let go of once I have taken a step into that alternate reality I use to call normal...maybe it's time for professional help. I need a Guru! I think I might be ready for my teacher....isn't he suppose to come?

Waiting for court

I have been working hard at eating healthy foods and riding my bike each day; trying to keep physically healthy to help barricade my brain against the emotions that are running rampant. My Dr. called in a script for Valium for me, just a few in case I need it. So far breathing exercises and my Orenda Balance spray are keeping me on an even keel. I have been shooting my bow this week, trying to practice for the archery tournament in Van Nuys the beginning of June that will qualify me for the Senior Games in August of '09. This gives me something to focus on, but this morning my heart is racing as I realize 6/2 is less than a week away. So I sit to write and wait for the spray to do it's magic leveling out my cortisol levels. I don't know what I would have done these past two years without Orenda, their products keeping me focused on health at some subliminal level while I work through all of this. It's good to know I can pick up my business anytime I am ready. I feel the spray working as I start to calm and now I can focus on positive thoughts and stave off the panic. The trial won't change anything, it will just bring an end to the waiting, and hopefully it will bring some small measure of justice for Joey. Not that he probably cares where he has gone on to, but those of us left do. I want that bully who hit him off the streets, but more than anything I wish for him a heart to feel what he has done. How horrible of me to wish another pain, but I am human. And truly from his pain I wish him to learn and to feel sorry for what he has done and to use this to make his life something worthwhile, so that losing Joey wasn't for nothing. I did run into one of Joe's friends a while back, and because of him she is clean and sober and working and trying to make her life better; we cried to think of him, but at the same time I was so proud of her, and so glad she found a way to love her own life out of his death. I have a busy June lined up, trying to distract myself and give myself something to do after the first trial is over. The 2nd defendant has his pretrial hearing mid way through the month and if the first guy is convicted he might put in a plea at that time. If not, we go back to court. In any case, this summer should bring an end to the lingering drama. There is always the possibility that the 3rd man involved will be brought in, but it doesn't look like that will happen. Facing the first two will be hard enough and we have the one who actually dealt the killing blow, so I have been able to put the last guy out of my mind. I am okay now, the spray and the words having done their job. We are heading out to the archery range in a bit, it's beautiful there and I'm looking forward to getting out of the house and into the forest; food for the soul.

30 days to the trial

We have a tentative court date, and I have a month to get through without going crazy. Initially I panicked, but then came the determination to spend my time now, and not waste it thinking about then. That moment will come, and that will be hard enough to live through without forecasting all the horrible what ifs. If I have learned anything this past year I need to apply it now. I have been riding my bike, trying new healthy recipes, and practicing being calm one moment at a time. Finding distractions and playing with Kaylee help. So why am I here once again venting and trying to drain frustration? Because it's here, it's a safe place in the universe to try and convince myself I can keep breathing and make it through the evening without falling apart completely. I had three good days in a row, I suppose it would be selfish of me to expect a fourth. But selfish is exactly what it takes; as I have said to friends, it's all about me me me right now - and as my wise sister noted, that's all any of us can do - to just take care of ourselves the best we can. I shouldn't say I am tired, instead I should pretend to feel positive and put on a good face and ...I can't, I am just exhausted tonight. I stop and breath deeply, I check in on Kaylee who is sleeping behind me with one eye open tjavascript:void(0)
Publish Posto keep track of me, and try to let my shoulders drop into a relaxed state. Relaxed state...maybe it's time for a drink and a hot tub, but as good as it sounds on the surface, the reality is that I tend to get really morbid when I do that so I won't. We are in for a cold night, but the next couple of warmer days they have fore casted should help me stay busy outside. God I am so tired of trying to stay busy, so tired of trying to keep myself calm, just so tired period. The good news is that when I crash like this, I know I will be more positive and in control when I wake tomorrow. I can hardly wait. In the meantime I think I will go make some pumpkin brownies...maybe. Or maybe just give in and put on PJ's and curl up with a book and a soft blanket and a puppy determined to cover me in kisses. And a cup of chamomile tea, I can't forget the tea.

Seeking a Heroine

I run away from myself at every turn. I write a hard thought and the next thing I know I am making the bed or rinsing the dishes, any flurry of activity will do to avoid the pain that can accompany self discovery. I heard in a book I am listening to that when a woman has a worry she turns to work in order to gain sympathy for herself. But I am alone here in my work, there is no one to impress with my endeavors. It is simply a way to escape from myself, and I am truly tired of running. Like many others, physical work has always been an escape for me, turning to domestic duties to avoid the work of the soul is quite a habit. But in recognizing it I stop and turn from where I am making the bed, and come to sit and write and try to face the thought that first drove me from my desk. I have failed at living up to the self imposed standards of love, honor and trust that I so admired in the books I read as a child. Seeking the strong heroine in the pages I devoured, wanting to associate myself with the qualities they displayed became an obsession as I read my way through Nancy Drew, Anne of Green Gables and Elnora of the Limberlost. I think of myself as a good person and have mostly tried to do the right thing when called upon to choose, yet I have done a few unspeakable things in my life. Learning to forgive myself has been my major battle these past two years, Joey’s death the final spiritual stab at my failings. Why do I linger here fighting internally instead of moving back out into the world and starting my penance? It has been suggested to me that I hold my standards too high, and I think no, my standards are fine, maybe yours are too low. But as usual I digress. The point here is to deal with my self imposed disappointment in what I feel are my failings, and to recognize them for what they are…gone into the vapors of my past and irrelevant to my living in the now. I see that I am afraid to start anything, because that requires me to accept the responsibility of the consequences to my actions. It is much easier to hide away in the comfort of my new puppy than to get dressed and initiate … anything! So truly, has it come to this, that I am just lazy and willing to use any excuse to do … nothing? Some heroine; lets see, what would I do if I were in a book, that might be a good place to start.

Two years

It was a hard week leading up to this day, but now that it is here I find that the love and support of friends and family keeps me from despair. It truly is Joey's birthday somewhere else, and my confindence in that keeps me sane.