A Year has Passed....

I pull the shroud of sadness snug over my shoulders one more night. One more night I let it probe me, touch me, try to destroy and devastate me.

Experiencing an incredible deep melancholy, black and dark and deploring this year.

But then there are those moments. There are those flickering diamonds in the grass early in the morning when the day is cool and new. There are those moments of extreme hope and feeling the goodness of some people. They are out there. There are deeply caring, genuine and real creatures. There are creatures so full of love and compassion and selflessness they make one believe in something undefined, but very special. We want to surround ourselves with those people. We want to BE one of those people.

There are those moments, when it feels like those we have lost send us signs. Signs we have to be good and open, to receive and to see. Like when a single, lone turkey runs out on the dirt road in front of us, alone and in advance of Turkey season, a loved ones favorite time of year. Or when we beg for you to stop the rain, just for a second so we can make it home safely, and it suddenly stops raining just for a second. Or when the yellow rose you planted for Mom, blooms red on Mother’s Day. How can we ignore those special moments sent to us?

Mostly there is also the realization and acceptance that we are alone. And it is okay that we are alone. And in our being alone, we try to find our own good, our own internal love and deep spirituality. We know that this is what sustains us. Faith that everything is going somewhere, that life is constant and continuous. We experience faith and hope that we are all energy, and that we will continue our journey together one day. And that journey will be without shrouds, and without great sadness, without loss, without grief. Our continuing journey will be without pain.

But for tonight, on the eve of a great loss, I am allowed to pull the shroud of sadness over myself once more. I pour salt on this wound, and I touch this terrible hole that is my heart. A hole that cannot be filled that was left last year, at 1:36 am on June 15th, 2011 when you went on without us. You continued your journey and we stayed behind, alone.

June 15th is forever a day to honor your travels, and mourn our loss, and contemplate being alone. And then to move ahead and consider our looming journey.

We miss you every single day, and we love you for the rest of our lives...it's as simple as that.

Another Day without You-

The Teresa Carol Kennedy Memorial

In Honor of Teresa Carol Kennedy

A Memory-

It was Teresa’s first visit to the Palliative Care Unit at Harris Methodist. She was in so much pain, and this visit was to help her get a handle on the pain, and help control it. The first night I stayed with her, she wanted to shower. We tried that, but it was a frightening experience as it was hard for her to stand, and even more challenging to maneuver a shower chair. The second night, her compassionate nurse Jennifer asked if we were familiar with the bathing room. She took both of us over to see it, and Terri said “sure, I am game…let’s try it”. The bathing room in the Palliative Unit at Harris is quite a jewel for those suffering and in pain. It is a respite. The nursing staff assists the patient prepare for their bathing experience with dignity and draping, they help the patient recline on a lift, the lift is raised and the jetted tub rises to submerge the patient. The raised tub allows good ergonomics for those assisting with the bath.

Once Teresa was submerged in bubbles, she said “Wow, now what do I do?” The staff chuckled and told her to relax and enjoy her bath. She quipped back, “All we need are some candles and some music.” Jennifer went and got her i-pod and tiny speakers and set it up for Terri. She enjoyed it, but when Jennifer left the room Teresa said flatly, “This place really needs a sound system.”

That event inspires this event:

A Memoriam in the name of Teresa Carol Kennedy has been set up at Texas Health Harris Methodist Foundation to fund a sound system in their bathing room.

Contact is Laura McWhorter, at 817-317-5235. lauramcwhorter@texashealth.org
Donations may be made to: Texas Health Harris Methodist Foundation
6100 Western Place
Suite 1001
Fort Worth, Texas 76107

Indicate that the donation is to benefit the Teresa Carol Kennedy Memoriam-the sound system in the bathing Unit at the Palliative Unit in Fort Worth.

Online donations may be made at:

http://www.texashealth.org/giving

Select the support us button, find the dialogue box labeled:
Designate my gift to the following fund or project: Indicate the Palliative Bathing Room Sound System (Fort Worth)
Find the dialogue box labeled: In memory of : Indicate Teresa Carol Kennedy

Thank You, Teresa will be honored.

Returning to Normal-

It feels like my tenacious grip on LIFE is returning. Some stress is subsiding and the world is looking brighter. Beginning to dig out from under the piles of rubble, clutter and stress. The world might look pretty good out here. One of my primary reasons for escaping the 8-5 is to spend more quality time with family. So it begins! WooHoo! Add yesterday to the Great Days to Remember list...and add an image!