PeaceTrain

''People get ready there's a train a comin', don't need no ticket, you just get on board...'' - People Get Ready -Curtis Mayfield

A few days before DJ took her final breaths, I watched as she lay on her lounger, breathing peacefully, unmoving, quietly disengaging from worldly things as Ms.McKoKo gently applied lotion to DJ's swollen legs. Ms.McKoKo is our grand daughter, now, 5 years old. It was a task Ms.McKoKo had assigned herself and one she dutifully made sure she performed at least twice a day. By this time DJ was no longer initiating  any interaction with us, but every now and then I was sure she would respond by a movement, or an attempt to open her eyes if I spoke or adjusted her clothing or the bedding.  As I looked at the scene of the two of them, my thoughts went to how DJ and Ms.McKoKo had bonded over the previous 4 years, and the joy I knew that had given DJ especially with all we knew which was happening. Altho I normally did most of the driving when she and I would go somewhere, DJ could drive, and she would, for Ms.McKoKo. They were buddies in the pure sense of the word. Despite their age difference, they managed to find a comfort zone with one another which appears to have extended beyond that of the loving and solid relationship which can exist between a grandparent and child; they seemed to really enjoy one another in a very special way. They could spend the entire day watching animated movies, or engaging in the ''school time'' game. Many times they would be in our back yard, with DJ and her planting...something...anything... and chattering away with one another. Today I am grateful that all this occurred between them because it appears that it helped DJ gain some peace, tho bittersweet, from our sad situation. During one of our more serious conversations, as I attempted to get a better idea on just how she was doing mentally, DJ said, ''...It's not that I'm so afraid of dying anymore, I'm just so sad about leaving all of you...'', I understood this especially meant Ms.McKoKo.

Continuing to watch Ms.McKoKo diligently apply the lotion, I thought about the previous winter, when on a Saturday morning DJ, Ms.McKoKo, and our oldest daughter had taken a train ride. It was just the local commuter to the downtown area, but it had been Ms.MckoKo's first train ride, and she had been quite excited during the previous 2 or 3 days. Train travel for DJ and I was routine as we both had only in recent years felt more comfortable flying, and our daughter J---- was a true veteran of the rails, having logged many an hour traveling from college to visits home. But for Ms.McKoKo this was huge; I can only imagine what thoughts must have been going through her mind as she considered finally getting the chance to ride the big machine she had only seen as it delayed us in traffic sometimes, or in some movie clip. Altho DJ was still very sick, she was coping with the disease and it's effects quite well at this point. Getting around, going places, doing things...living...we tried to do whatever came to mind, budget allowing, and most things we wanted to do, we did. This train ride was one of those things, being with Ms.McKoKo and watching as her baby girl marveled at it all, bringing a special joy to DJ I'm sure.

We drove to the nearest station, parked, and bought tickets, I watched from a distance as DJ held Ms.McKoKo hand, bending every now and then to no doubt answer some question about our impending boarding and ride. Surprisingly, that nite as I watched the two of them again, and remembered all of this, there was an air of calmness about it all for me. I'm not sure why, but I distinctly remember it being that way. Maybe it was just the sight of the two of them, each quietly doing what they needed to do, DJ, drifting, and Ms.McKoKo touching, feeling and quietly talking to her. Those moments have come to me many times since DJ died and whereas early on, most times they also brought tears and a tremendous sadness, as time has passed, I have been able to remember it with much less pain and much more gratitude. The memory is in a safe place.

As we rode the train that morning, J---- and I sat together and DJ and Ms.McKoKo sat across from us. Watching as Ms.McKoKo looked out of the window and pointed the various things out to DJ as they whizzed past, tears welled up in me; the thought that we would one day be a passenger short was powerful to say the least. To us, the different buildings, truck terminals, warehouses and seemingly endless lines of tracks were quite familiar, but for Ms.McKoKo, seeing these things from a moving train was new and exciting; her glee could barely be contained as she pointed and turned to us to insure that we too had see the many wonders glide past. Dj was smiling and laughing and feigning amazement at the Neon billboards, truck yards and people standing on the opposite platform. The approach of a train going in the opposite direction caused a gasp from Ms.McKoKo as she watched, transfixed as it breezed past us, snuggling closer to DJ as the apparent closeness of it to us gave her momentary cause for concern. I remember this all very well, and today it is a good memory...no, it is a great memory because I can have it today without so much of the pain that was once associated with it and similar memories. It is a signal to me that what I have been told is true, that we can try and work on and work with our grief, but ultimately time will do what we cannot. Tho in the early times, the fresh and raw times, this prospect is not something we are interested in hearing, let alone have a belief in, I am finding it to be true nonetheless.

Since that sad morning in November 2011, when life changed forever, such memories have filled my mind and taken me to all manner of mental highs and lows; from the shattering roar of silence to my inner ear, as I teetered between going and staying, to the noisy, yet welcome echoes of DJ, talking to me, calling, reminding, whispering, and this memory too, causing me much anxiety and deep sadness early on. Trying to gain some equilibrium with the competing forces of all the thoughts is a challenge for all of us, and I am no different. We find ourselves onboard, on a journey for which a ticket was not needed, only some living, loving and some dying. And much like Ms.McKoKo, we stare, our vision locked on the many familiar things that take on a new shape and meaning; as with her, we turn, looking for explanation and  clarity about what has occurred and about the many new and different aspects of the life which we now face. We too seek to snuggle, to hold close to something known and safe in which we might find comfort as the oncoming stream of memories, thoughts, what if's, did I's, could have's, maybe's, should have's and why didn't I's rush past, leaving us battered from the tailwind of their moving through our minds. It is a journey we must make because we have truly cared and deeply loved.      

As the Saturday commuter pulled into the downtown station and we prepared to once again feel the solid ground beneath our feet, I watched as Ms.McKoKo sought DJ's hand as they negotiated the few steps to terra firma; it appeared that they steadied one another, one young, one older, both knowing and trusting the other. Perhaps I read too much in what I see, maybe, it was just two people leaving a train, I'm sure that is how it was viewed by the many others standing about...perhaps...at any rate, my idea of it warms my mind's heart, and gives me something to smile about today, and that's all that really counts, that it is a thought and memory I can have and live with today without pain. There were other marvels for Ms.McKoKo to enjoy that day as we explored downtown, a place she had never been to before but had heard us mention many times, but my thoughts are focused on the train ride we had and how much I really enjoyed it despite the gnawing thought lingering in the back of my mind about how we would not have many more of them, not all of us together anyway. We enjoyed that day, the four of us, talking, laughing, living, loving. Ms.McKoKo will mention that time every now and then and I can see the twinkle when she recalls the moments she and DJ walked the footpath around the Federal Building and stopped to look at the outdoor art there, stood in front of the fountain for a picture and sat on the bench in the plaza of a towering bank building, eating the meal from a take out place. A true standout is listening to DJ attempt to explain what the elevated train was all about, and no, it wasn't the the one we would be taking back home...It was a good day, and today it is a great memory...I am grateful that I can have it, peacefully.

And the journey continues..thoughts and memories whiz by, new and different things appear in the window of my life and we move forward, much like Ms.McKoKo, discovering new and wondrous things about the world, ourselves, and about living...and about loving...and about dying. It really is all a part of life and just maybe we can get a better understanding of it from the trials we endure. We may not be able to predict where the tracks of our journey will lead us, but because of what we have come to know and believe, perhaps the trials won't appear to be so trying, the down times, not so low, and those things which at one time held us in their grip of fear, eases their hold and we can breathe again...really live again. It could be that the ride will become more familiar and easier, I for one am finding that to be true. I believe there are many stops left to enjoy,as we go along... and not much is required, I think we simply just have to 'get on board'.    

I All So

 

“I don't know half of you half as well as I should like;

and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

A friend and i were talking recently, the conversation started with the usual 'How are you doing..' &ct., after I replied  ''Good...'' to the query, there was a long pause. Then, from my friend, ''Why do you always say that?...'', a little puzzled, I asked,  ''What do you mean?...'' my friend went on to explain that I always said that, Good, in response to that question. As I thought about what had just been said, the friend went on to say that I couldn't always be doing Good, and that they wanted to know how i was really doing. Before I could really answer, they continued, telling me that by doing that, saying i was doing good in my responses, all of the time, almost automatically, that maybe I wasn't really being genuine. That to them, it gave the impression that I didn't appear to have the issues we all know we suffer from as we grieve. As the conversation went on, and I began to really hear what was being said, the thought crossed my mind that what I was hearing was probably true, and should be given some consideration.
I have mentioned previously that I am not very good at the protocol of friendships, and even less so with the politics sometimes involved; since the death of DJ, I have had to make adjustments to this, and a lot of it is brand new to me. This is not to say I don't realize the value of, or the requisite mechanics of how they work, just that it has not been something I have spent a lot of time worrying about or trying to nurture; I had my friend, DJ. Now, all that has changed, with her absence, I have found that friends, right down to the meanings I ascribe to them, are not only necessary, but desired by me. It has been my good fortune to develop some friendships as I have moved along the path we are traveling; where once I had almost automatically dismissed people out of hand and had allowed my natural disdain for  the human pettiness which can be involved, to control how and with whom I shared my thoughts and feelings with, I now find that there is much to given and gained from honest and sincere friendships. DJ would especially be more than mildly surprised as most of these friendships are of the online nature, and more than once she had listened to me enunciate the shallowness I was sure must be involved in such exchanges. But as we know, grief has a way of introducing and re-introducing us to ourselves, requiring that we adjust all manner of things, including (or especially) friendships; so it has been with me.
In the best of times and under the most optimal of conditions, handling friendships can be trying, with grief thrown in, things can really become skewed. Personally, I found as the pure hell of the initial sense of shock, and the fog of bewilderment were attempting to engulf me, having only my own thoughts and ideas to navigate through it all with, was not enough; family was great, the few folks i called friends were there, but more was needed, and desired. As true healing only really started when I began to know and let myself be known to others in the same circumstance, my notions of the whole friendship idea had to necessarily change. Possibly because of the deep hurt I was feeling this all did not seem so difficult now, the old reasons appeared even more cynical and less valid. Grasping at every available straw which hinted at offering relief, I found myself able to honestly cultivate new friends and revamp an entire way of thinking which had been a part of me for so long. Also it appears that what my friend has proven once again,, at least to me, is that for sure, others can see things in us to which we ourselves can be totally oblivious about. I think in my mind, me saying that i was doing 'Good' as a ready response, was my way of not wanting to further add to any stress others might be having and a poor attempt at covering things which sometimes may have been bothering me. I realize that I am fortunate to have such wise new friends who not only are able to detect such things, but feel comfortable enough and enough of a friend to point them out to me, trusting that it will be accepted in the vein it is offered, a spirit of true caring and sharing...and today I can.
As our conversation expanded, my friend pointed out that there was the chance that the image i was projecting was one of (in their words), ''...the big fckg sheriff who has it all together...'' I smiled as i heard this as I know only too well how un-together I am,and I said so to my friend; how often the times of sadness and missing can consume me for days at a time and it's all I can do muster enough energy to get out of bed and wash; how at those quiet early morning hours when sleep is nowhere to be found and the silence roars and tears of self pity and personal regret run, uncontrollably as wave after wave of memories assault my mind and can threaten my own sanity...as I say, I know only too well ho un-healed I really am, but perhaps that is not enough. As fiends share with me their troubling times, I understand that I too must share more, must truly practice the art of true friendship in order that they should remain honest and strong. In a way it is curious that this entire conversation should take place at all, as I though that it was enough that I wrote about some of more pressing issues I have, but maybe not, maybe more is required, but as I say, I think it is good. As we talked on, I realized that the gentle but thorough chewing out I was be given was an act or concern, and it brought tears to my eyes. That I also detected a hint of piss-ment present as I was reminded that I needed to share more and not deprive my other friends of the benefit gained from helping, is of no concern, it is what good friends can express to one another with no malice being transmitted or received, merely genuine concern.
A major part of a program I am involved with, suggests that we admit our wrongs to ourselves, a power greater than ourselves and one other person. I think I can apply the same to myself in regards to my feelings and the issuess I have going forward through grief. Having done that previously, with DJ being that other person, I found great comfort knowing that someone else also knew of those things. Now, with DJ gone,perhaps it is time for me renew that practice, only this time having a collection of one other human beings to share with. Of course there are some things that the sharing of would serve no good purpose,and the program's suggestion also takes this into account, adding ''...except when to do so would cause harm or injury to others...'',  no matter how much personal pain they might cause us, those things relating to our lives which by their very nature are best kept within the confines of our own minds have to be maintained there, with it being our challenge to find safe places for them and to  come to livable terms with them.                      
So, as I have alluded to before, the journey has many a twist and turn, and this instance gives further credibility to that notion. Not only about the process of grief, but how we can come to better understand ourselves and our relationship to those we come in contact with. Having posited just H.O.W.(Honesty Openess and Willingness) as one wheel of the transport I am using on the path, when things like this arise, it is up to me to attempt to recognize the value of the opportunity to examine it with those ideas in mind. Again, what I say here is about me, that's all it can be, that others my find some kernel of usefulness is a welcomed plus, but at the most basic of levels, I can only say what i know (and sometimes have to guess at), is going on in my own mind; hopefully that does not limit it's effectiveness for me, or it's positive aspects to others.  I'm finding as I travel, I learn and my willingness to be more open to that learning is enhanced as I seethe results of changes which make those otherwise painful times, more bearable and allows me to see the value of flexibility self correction more each day.My friend said I always try to appear to be upbeat and hopeful, and of this I am guilty; I have come to believe that for me and my survival through grief it is the only way to be. As the conversation between my friend and I ended, we shared the laugh they they had been able to point something out to me for a change, and I had been able to admit a few things, and could agree that they had been right; it felt good, we both had come to know the other just a bit better and that is also good.
In a word, no, in a song, ''That's What Friends Are For''.