fiction #8? the bookstore. Jillie finds the first book that might help.

“Ann Boroch?”  I repeated as I stared numbly at the title of the book in my hands, Healing Multiple Sclerosis.

“Do you think it’s a hard ‘k‘ sound?  Or a swoosh type finish? OR is it like chai tea?”  I asked Anya, annoyed at everyone who has ever had a hard last name to pronounce.

“What does it matter?”  Annie asked.

“It matters to me,” I said with an edge to my voice.  “Why can’t anything be simple with this beast?”

I turned the blue soft-hard-back over, looking for a hint of some sort of solution without having to read the 300+ pages.

“Here, you read it first, you’re a fast reader,”  I said shoving the copy into Annie’s hands.

“Do you want me too?  Why don’t we read it together?  We can hold a mini-book club meeting once we’re finished.  Or even check in as we read.  Come on girl.  You gotta read this stuff.  I’ll do it with you,” she said softly.

“Fine.  I just hope I don’t have to jump on the green juice wagon or whatever it is that’s popular with you kids these days – if I do it, you’re doing it too.” I said stiffly grabbing a second copy.

xo

three strong women.

Annette Funicello.

Lilly Pulitzer.

the Iron Lady.  Margaret Thatcher.  PM while I was living in England.  (she definitely wore her catsuit to work every day.)

Annette didn’t make it quite as long as the other two.  she was 70.  and died from MS complications.  what those might have been…we will probably never know.

huh.

sad day today.

whatever your connection to MS might be.  fashion.  or politics.  may they all RIP.

xo

pause and effect.

scene:  the hub and I were sitting at a bar tonight.

what did you think? I asked, as I let the smooth merlot warm my throat.

did you feel the pause and effect? I continued.

what? he replied.

I don’t know.  that just popped out.  the ‘when she didn’t hear me.’  you know what I’m talking about.  the pause and effect.

I paused.

ah.  yes, yes, I did.  I was wondering if you were going to break it.  and you didn’t.  I wanted you to, but then I realized it would be harder if you did.

xo

the space between thoughts.

I didn’t realize I had been ignoring the space until today…and that made all the difference…

oooph!

after marching along on superdrive for the last three months, clobbering my brain.

three classes (MBTI Step II, Intuition, and now B-School).

new concepts.

ideas.

planning my first workshop.  yippee!

inspiration.

fear (yep…that decided to creep in and check things out. on and off.)

excitement.

until everything came to a screeching halt on Saturday night while out with friends.

during a lively debate with a good friend about a topic on which we were polar opposites…

I became weighted down by an intense heaviness.

I couldn’t shut it off.  and it didn’t want to go away.

so in an attempt to fend it off, I said something kinda rude to my friend.  that I didn’t mean.

(but that’s not true, if I didn’t mean it in that exact moment, I wouldn’t have said it.)

I was slammed with overwhelm in that moment when everyone around me jumped on me.

I paused.  breathed.  smiled.  apologized.

collected my thoughts that were already wavering, ready to topple…

(what the hell am I doing?! and why did I just say that?! how do I say this in a way they will all see my side of things?!)

so I reframed.

he said he had never looked at things that way, yet we still agreed to disagree.

but the weight would not leave.  and the thoughts dangerously close to toppling were still there.

I tried Sunday and Monday nights to figure out the source of the weight…

intensely missing my sisters after spending a week with them.  worried about my mother in the hospital.  tossing and turning Sunday night after waking up from a work nightmare.

I became short and snippy.  demanding.  with everyone.  hub.  work.  myself.

(fyi – this is my Type at its worst!)

so I poured through my new Myers-Briggs book Monday night.  and found some answers. (brilliant book, btw, Do What You Are.)

yep, I can blame this one on my personality type.  ha!  joke’s on me.

Tuesday, I felt like crap at work.

but the weight became a bit lighter Tuesday night after receiving a new project at work.

yet returned with a vengeance this morning…until I decided I had enough.

so I put on a Deepak Chopra mediation (not part of Oprah’s deal with him – fyi for you peeps not on the Oprah team… ;-) while I made up my sullen face (insert INFJ death stare ;-) getting ready for work…

…and that’s when I heard the words…find the space between the thoughts...

I repeated them out loud.  and goosebumps rippled down my legs…and I decided not to think about the meaning of what I had just heard…

and everything fell back into place, easily, freely, and peacefully.  the anger dissipated almost instantly.  insecurities gone.  fear vanished.

and I let it go…with that tiny space I had just let in.

stepping back – I can see what led to this…

family stuff.  good and bad.

packing my brain so full with things to do and learn, I had zero space to add some space.  even a millimeter would have been okay.

so the lesson…don’t pack things in too tight.

things will topple eventually…when they don’t have to…they just need some breathing room.

xox

chocolate lake.

mmmmm.  mmmmm.

I love chocolate.  anyone who knows me, knows this.

so last night I had the most clear dream that I have had in some time.

and it all boiled down to the perfect chocolate lake.

whhaaaat?

I dreamed I was in a workshop with one of my book club chickee’s sister.

the concept of the workshop was to create a vanilla ice cream sculpture.  that’s it.  no rules.  my friend’s sister and I were paired up.  but each had to come up with our own concept.

I started out by rolling vanilla balls of ice cream.  you know.  a vanilla sculpture.  and, already I was concerned with how I was going to keep them in perfect form.

ice cream melts.

after spooling nine balls together they started slipping and sliding against each other.  it was a cold sloppy mess.

so I decided to change things up when I notice a former teacher directing the event in the background; the teacher who wouldn’t refund me my money last year when I bailed out after two sessions from four.  when I got sick.  come on, no sympathy refund for the final two sessions?

no refund policy.  no refund policy.

oooh…bitter was I!  was I going to show her!

so I decided to make the best d*mn ice cream sculpture that ever existed.

and so I did.

we were ‘allowed’ to add chocolate to our vanilla.

and so I did.  and kept stirring and stirring.

until i had a silky lake of shiny chocolate in my bowl.

I was going to win!  I knew it!

it was beautiful!  stunning.  everyone was oohing and aww-ing.

but wait…it still wasn’t perfect.  in my mind.

so I kept mucking with it.  and turning the ice cream soup over and over.

until it was that.  utter muck.

soooo disappointed.  defeated.

message quite clear:

don’t mess with something that is already perfect.

really that obvious?

was I more disappointed by the answer in my dream?

or in my waking state.

huh.

xoxo

eulogy.

since I can’t think of anything else to write due to my writing blockage, I’m sharing the eulogy that I wrote and read for my sweet Grandma.on 1/31/13.  she passed away four weeks ago yesterday.  (wow!)  copy below.

~

Thank you for joining us today; I know my family sincerely appreciates you being here to honor and remember Muriel H.  For those of you that don’t me, I’m Erin, Muriel’s only granddaughter….and what an honor it is for me to speak for her today – so thank you!

Oooph!  Not a professional at this – first time out, but Saturday morning I knew I had to share a few words to honor my sweet Grandma.  and as one of my friends reminded me, I don’t have to run this like an organized PowerPoint presentation at work…because this is not work…it is coming from my heart.  those never go hand in hand, do they – ;-)

January sure has been a long month.  Tough times for the H family, no doubt, after losing Grandma so soon after Damian.

Once things weren’t looking good for Grandma, I shared my breaking heart with my friends….

Thank goodness for good friends!

One of my girlfriends gave me the poem When I Die; she said it was read at the funeral for one of her close friends – and it helped her look at things a little differently – she knew it would serve me well.

Though, after the first read through, I wasn’t sure I liked it!

In fact, I literally wanted to throw it away.  But the poem had already started rolling around in my head; the magic was underway.

turns out…

it did  not want to be thrown away.

the words kept showing up.  and wiggling their way into my thoughts.  so I decided to give it another go, and gave it a good read, the second Sunday Grandma was back in the hospital.  and then it hit me…and everything fell into place…making perfect sense.  I read it out loud to my husband, Tim, and he agreed – that’s good.

I knew that this was the poem I had to read for Muriel.

This is for you, Grandma.

When I Die, by Merrit Malloy.

When I die
Give what’s left of me away
To children
And old(er generations) that wait to die.

And if you need to cry,
Cry for your sister
Walking the street beside you.
And when you need me,
Put your arms
Around anyone
And give them
What you need to give to me.

I want to leave you something,
Something better
Than words
Or sounds.

Look for me
In the people I’ve known
Or loved,
And if you cannot give me away,
At least let me live on in your eyes
And not on your mind.

You can love me most
By letting
Hands touch hands,
By letting
Bodies touch bodies,
And by letting go
Of children
That need to be free.

Love doesn’t die,
People do.
So, when all that’s left of me
Is love,

Give me away.

~

The poem really struck a chord, and strikes one harder every time I read it.  (as reflected right now!)

It makes me think of the words, what is gone lives on, as that is how I am choosing to honor Grandma!

What can I carry forward for and from her?

I would like to share just a few fond memories of Grandma – I know she touched many, and in so many facets of life…but this is what I will remember.

Her inner beauty.

her strength.

her stoic presence – thanks Jenny for that reminder!

her stubbornness!

her smiling face.  and twinkling eyes.

her graciousness.

her humor.

~

When I was little, I used to stare up at the old photograph of Grandma hanging in the hallway in our house in England.   I couldn’t believe that woman was my Grandma – she was so beautiful – how could I possibly be related to her I thought!!

She became even more beautiful as the years passed.  She was always smiling, gracious, and good-humored.  Yet there was more to her I could tell just by looking at her eyes – there was a depth of seeing the things in life that only she experienced.  The things that were hers.

When I was still young, and learned that Grandma was alone after Granddad had been shipped overseas for WWII – I was floored!  Granddad was gone for three years…and one of them being a year in a POW camp – I could not believe it!  Was she scared?  I wanted to know.  How did she end up being the happy Grandma I know now?  How could she be alone for so long?  Now I understand why she worried so much.  It was then, that my little self began to recognize how strong she was.

I would worry too after living through that experience – not knowing if  and when my husband was coming home.  if you knew my Grandma, you knew she worried about lots of things, because she loved so much.

Now I know where I picked up this unique talent.  ;-)

It was only after I became older that I recognized her resilience and perseverance to keep moving forward despite the external circumstances beyond her control.

So what did she do – she enrolled at Occidental College and earned her degree – that is so cool!  how many women did that in the 40s?

That always made me proud – that my Grandma had a college degree, and in psychology too – I love that!

~

Grandma always surprised me.

I remember her eyes twinkling when she told me she could shoot a bow and arrow, and liked to ride a boys’ bike down Hill Drive.  She wowed the boys with her fearlessness.

While is seems that Grandma had a sassy side, she was reserved in her adult life.  Yet she still did everything on her own time – and in her own way.  All the way until the end.  She didn’t even want to use a cane!  She hated that cane and would carry said cane three inches off the ground holding it like a picnic basket!  Her stubbornness – I have that down.  I think stubbornness runs in the H family!

The only exception I don’t have down is her persistent cleaning habit and keeping things orderly – all the time – that is something I will never be able to emulate – sorry honey!

Once Granddad came home from the war, Grandma and Granddad restarted what was to be a very long life together.  Kicking off the baby boom generation with their two kids – my mom and uncle – Jean and Jim.  Followed by three grandkids – Damian, Brent and me – not in that order though – they were so proud of their family.

Outside of square dancing, attending swim meets, track meets, church on Sundays, G&G loved to travel.  So many trips to Hawaii.  Europe.  all the cruises. even back to Italy, where Granddad had been taken after his plane was shot down.  I remember Grandma telling me, how Granddad took pause at the door to the castle where he had been temporarily taken before being moved to Germany.  Tahiti.  and lots of trips to visit us in England.

My mother and I would return to California for long summer visits – basking in the long warm summer nights, sitting out on the patio with the scent of BBQ warming the air.  And so many holidays once we moved back!  with Damian, Brent and I relegated to the kid’s table for dinners, feeling so grown up with our virgin pina coladas and egg nog.  though who knows what Granddad might have added to the blender…only he does…he certainly liked the nog!

Midnight snacks at ten PM.  staying up late watching movies.  debating the merits of a brown cow vs. a black cow. a black cow was always the consensus favorite.  and what earrings could I borrow the next day – preferably ones that didn’t pinch.  How I loved Grandma’s costume jewelry! I still do.

and breakfasts on New Year’s Day with the tv trays set up in the living room so we could watch the rose parade while eating Granddad’s hotcakes.  or hawaiian bread french toast.  still laughing every time about Charlie Olsen eating some of the pot pourrie from a bowl on Grandma and Granddad’s coffee table, thinking it was a snack one New Year’s Eve many years ago.

Like grandma, like granddaughter, I studied Psychology.  so many conversations I will miss having.  and dinners out.  holidays.  the phone calls.  hugs.  and I love you’s.

the joy of sharing the news that Tim had just proposed to me!  G&G were both so happy and eager to welcome Tim into the family.  me too.  ;-)

the number of years of service she devoted to this church – wow – 66 years – is that right?!  it was here that her desire to have everything clean, honored the Altar Guild!  as Fran said last weekend, Muriel would be horrified by the Friday night Taize service clean up.

How interested Grandma was in what I do for work.  she was so proud.  and equally interested in all the classes that I take now as an adult.  She even opened herself up to let me use some of my life coaching tools with her a couple years ago – and said how good I was – and how good our talks made her feel.

me too.

Grandma, so many happy happy memories I have of you, I could go on…but I won’t.  But the one thing that brings me peace is that you are now in heaven with two of your loves Granddad.  and Damian.

the last time I saw Grandma was the Wednesday before she passed, and I said everything I needed to say to her.  How much she was an inspiration for me in life.  What a good job she did being Grandma. How amazing she was.  and how much I loved her.  which I kept whispering to her over and over again.  But I know you are at peace now.  and while rough in the end, our arms intertwined that last day.  I’m keeping that one.  I will miss you Grandma but, I get to carry a lot forward – so thank you.

xoxo

new boots.

what will they see?

what roads will they travel?

what risks will they take?

will they leap for me?

I couldn’t wait to find out!

I dreamed of wearing them gallivanting across Europe.  Africa.  and, the US of A.

donning them for my first book reading.  and my first group coaching session.  and working at the Art Center.  while volunteering.

oh, the firsts they would they see!

and then they arrived.

and didn’t fit.

at all.

I couldn’t even squeeze my foot down to the bottom of the boot.

I then poured over the reviews on Amazon.  and Zappos.

they should fit, I wanted to scream.

these boots were supposed to make all the difference for me!

they were supposed to be just what I needed to make me feel a tiny bit better about my Grandma passing.

and hopeful about the future.

sad.  I filled out the return paperwork, and shoved the boots back in their box.

go away, I said.

I was frustrated.  so gorgeous.  smelled so good.  perfect.  beautiful.

and beyond my reach.

but.

they didn’t want to go away.  kinda like the poem I read for my Grandma on Thursday.

last night, I pulled them out again.  and thought.  why not?   maybe they’ll fit this time.

ha!  I laughed with my hub, watch they will just slide on.

guess what happened.

xox

what is gone lives on.

the above thought hit me earlier today, while re-reading a poem that one of my friends had posted on FB when I shared my breaking heart.

the poem has been rolling around in my thoughts since it was posted.

at first, I wanted to throw it away.

but it didn’t want to be thrown away.

the words kept showing up.  and then they made sense.  Sunday night.  the words made sense.

my beloved Grandma has taken a turn for the worse.  the words have been touching and poking various parts of my thoughts.  mind.  emotions.

soul.

When I Die, by Merrit Malloy.  I have copied it below…

When I die
Give what’s left of me away
To children
And old(er generations) that wait to die.

And if you need to cry,
Cry for your brother
Walking the street beside you.
And when you need me,
Put your arms
Around anyone
And give them
What you need to give to me.

I want to leave you something,
Something better
Than words
Or sounds.

Look for me
In the people I’ve known
Or loved,
And if you cannot give me away,
At least let me live on in your eyes
And not on your mind.

You can love me most
By letting
Hands touch hands,
By letting
Bodies touch bodies,
And by letting go
Of children
That need to be free.

Love doesn’t die,
People do.
So, when all that’s left of me
Is love,

Give me away.

~

so beautiful.  I see it.

and if I can muster the courage, I will read this for my Grandma.  one day.

what is gone lives on.

and with that, we have control of what we want to keep.  and what we let go.  and that’s okay.

Saturday was the hardest day.  so far.

I will forget the morning.  but keep the evening.  my choice.

xoxox

love all around.

holy wow.  this one is going to really hurt.

it already is.

how the world can change in a second.

(how many times has a writer written that line??  too many.  is it cliché yet?)

I thought I would be returning to the same Grandma from last weekend – when I visited her yesterday morning.

(not that she was even my usual, twinkly-eyed Grandma last weekend.  but she knew I was there at least.  on some level.)

nope.  God had other plans for her this week.

she had a massive right brain stroke.  suppose it’s a shame it wasn’t her left brain…at least she would be in better shape on the inside.  from what I hear.  she would be able to easily see and connect with the angels that just want to fold their downy feathers around her.

they can’t wait until she joins them.  I can feel it.  but for now, they are watching.  waiting.

the priest at her church (of 60 years!) anointed her with oil last night.  it was beautiful.  and tear-full.  she was left holding a comfort cross.

the priest also gave comfort crosses to my uncle.  myself.  and my hub.

we set her up for hospice care today.  thank God, that my cousin D. was there to help guide my uncle and me as we met with hospice care, Kathy.  I looked at my uncle at one point, and it was as if he had turned into D.

wowzer.

Grandma, you have love all around you.  you know that.

love.  love.  love.

xoxo

un-happening.

oooph!  how early did it feel waking up today after a long holiday weekend?

even went to bed by 9PM last night to ensure 8 hours of sleep.

but it hurt getting up at 5:16 in the AM today.

my body does NOT like alarms.  whose does?  I would like to know!  I prefer the natural method of waking up.  any tips on this, my ears are dying to know!  do share!

but I dragged myself into my AM daily activities.  I have to get moving right away.  otherwise no moving happens.

did some EFT work in the kitchen while the coffee was brewing and toast toasting.  and began to feel better, bit more alert, some-what more energized.  amazing how well tapping works!

but my new mood was quickly interrupted after returning to my AM writing place.  as I found myself bothered by something someone didn’t say to me.  but then another one did.

whaaaat?  I isolated the feeling down to ‘I felt left out.’  hellooooo?  I’m the one everyone talks to when they have a problem.  I’m the empathetic ear.  I want to be there!  that’s how I assign value to myself.  so whose business am I in?  by allowing a preference, oversight, or whatever the reason why I was being overlooked…to bother me.  I can’t control when others reach out to me.

pause.

oh right.  that last bit.  that’s the rub. it’s fulfilling to me to provide support.  once I identified the source.  bit selfish, eh?  ;-)  I did some self-coaching.  and felt better.  so decided to move on.

but unfortunately, the ball had already been set in motion.  and when I found myself rushed to walk away from my laptop to get ready for work…the negative thoughts started to cascade…

and it was all down a treacherous slope from there…not to mention the hub and I were completely off on our getting ready routine. bordering on irritated words being exchanged.  after almost walking smack into each other crossing paths.  clearly the self-coaching and tapping efforts didn’t stick.  I blame the early hour.  ;-)

while I was finishing up getting ready, figuring out what to do with the bangs I had screwed up by getting them partially wet in the shower, I said to my hub, “I just want to reset this mood that I’m in, because I know it’s not good and will likely get worse once I get to work.  you know, re-entry and all.”

he replied, “just let it un-happen.”

that caused me to pause.  and consider resetting.  I let that word sink in.  muttering it softly to myself.  testing it out.  genius!

I said, “un-happen, love it.  thanks baby.  thanks baby!”

and do I did.

what do you let un-happen?  I’m curious!

xox

ps.  so much for my breathing and smiling in 2013… ;-)

xox