Grief

New Year, New Directions?

ALS, Disney,Grief

Holiday Card 2015
A Loving Tribute to Ben

Aside from having a bad cold and cough during the holiday week, I found myself feeling glum. Ordinarily, I busy myself with taking a photo of Disney that I make into a holiday card and mail to friends and family. This year, I just couldn’t get into the spirit. I always loved making the holiday cards, but since Ben has been gone, making a holiday card has become an emotional and somewhat overwhelming endeavor. The first holidays came just a few months after Ben left, and, after much thought, I created a card that was a tribute to him, accompanied by the words to Auld Lang Syne, which is meaningful to me because it talks of remembering those we’ve loved and lost. Last year, I was torn about making a card, because I did not feel festive but felt that I should honor the tradition, and even send a message to others (and to myself) that I was starting to at least try to embrace life. In my mind, Ben had to be present in that card, so I chose the Disney song, “It’s a Small World,” which is my favorite song and a song and attraction at World Disney World that always made us happy. I included some of our favorite pictures from the attraction, all of which Ben took when he was well. It felt like he was helping to make the card. (click here to read last year’s New Year’s day post)

This year, I am still not sure if I felt like I should or if I genuinely wanted to keep the tradition of making the card, but I kept procrastinating. It’s the third holiday season without Ben and I didn’t feel like the card should specifically be a tribute to him. I suppose that a part of me thought that people would also find it strange, and maybe depressing, that I would continue to visibly include him in the card. On the other hand, I was heartsick at his not having a presence in the card.

Does grief keep finding new ways to shake up my efforts to forge ahead in life?

What I’ve realized is that grief gave me a sort of purpose- it was to share memories of Ben and keep him in everyone’s hearts, which I did when I made the other cards. I wholeheartedly believe that he is watching over me and I want him to know that I honor him in every step that I take. Making my first holiday card that was not a blatant, well thought out tribute to Ben and to us, from only Disney and me, made me feel alone and without purpose.  Of course, the memories are always there, and, as I put Disney’s pajamas on her for the picture, I remembered how Ben laughed and commiserated with Disney as the three of us posed for a photo in our matching pajamas.  I finally got a picture I liked and wrote a caption. But, this card came with confusion and conflicting emotions because it was not a card about Ben or us. It did not feel right, and yet it also felt appropriate.

Welcoming 2018

This experience brought to mind the lyrics from a beautiful song from Pocahontas II, called Where Do I Go From Here? (Written by Marty Panzer and Larry Grossman) 

But where do I go from here?
So many voices ringing in my ear
Which is the voice that I was meant to hear?
How will I know?
Where do I go from here?

My world has changed and so have I
I’ve learned to choose
And even learned to say goodbye

The path ahead’s so hard to see
It winds and bends but where it ends 
Depends on only me

In my heart I don’t feel part of so much I’ve known
Now it seems it’s time to start, 
A new life on my own

For so long, my purpose was taking care of Ben. It’s gone on to be sharing memories of him and of caregiving and grief, and that helps me sort through feelings and emotions while it offers insights and maybe, hopefully, comfort to other current and former caregivers. So, who am I without Ben and these experiences?

I have gotten back to life. I enjoy my time alone and with friends. I do surround myself with good memories, but I look forward, too. I even started online dating and, difficult as that is, I am trying to be optimistic that I will find love again. New Year’s Eve was never a big deal for Ben and me. We generally stayed in and I cooked a special meal, until he could not eat much anymore. Last year, I went to the movies and an early dinner with a friend, which was not joyous but also not sad. So why has this year gotten me down even more than the prior two years? I guess that trying to make a card with a simple festive greeting and without a message about Ben showed me that I have not yet come into my own.

Although I have taken steps towards a new life, it’s hard to face head on that although Ben is always in my heart, I am on my own with an identity independent of him, caregiving and grief. I have established routines and have become more accustomed to life without Ben, but I constantly think about and even talk to him. I’m doing things that I always loved to do, often seeing things through his eyes. I would never have thought that making a card would be such a glaring reminder that I am now doing things just as myself and not as part of the couple that was Ben and Abby. It’s not yet comfortable. I cannot anticipate waves of profound sadness and loneliness, so when they hit me they hit me hard. I have to let the tears fall as they will and I know that I will push through it.

I’m not sure where I go from here in life and love, though, in my Disney way, I am hopeful and optimistic. I hope that in this new year I continue to establish a balance between past, present and future. I read many things from those in grief who wonder where they should be in the grief process and if they are okay. I hope this helps those in grief see that grief is its own journey, experienced at our own paces, filled with memories, insights, reflections and learning that will ultimately propel us forward if and when we let them, when we are ready. It’s not easy, but I find comfort in knowing that Ben and the other loved ones I have lost are somehow guiding me.

I wish everyone a new year of love, laughter, peace, good memories and the creation of new ones, and, of course, good health.

 

Christmas Memories

I don’t actually know where this quote is found- if tv, film or books- but in typical Winnie the Pooh fashion, it is sweet and simple, yet profound, in sentiment. I never forget how lucky I am to have beautiful memories, but I do miss the togethery part.

Growing up Jewish, although I dreamed of white Christmases, aside from lovely visits to friends’ homes during the holidays, I did not have my own Christmas until I met Ben. He helped me choose my first real Christmas tree . We chose our ornaments together. He let me decorate the tree by myself because he said he’d never seen anyone get so excited about having and decorating a tree! When Ben was homebound, I had to pick our tree by myself. I admit that despite being very creative, I am not the most visual person. I thought it was a reasonable size. When the man delivered it and put it in the stand, Ben couldn’t stop laughing and just asked, “what did you do?” It was enormous! I called it the tree that almost ate our apartment. That said, it was gorgeous and it lasted very well. We just worked around it! After that, having a real tree became too difficult with all of Ben’s needs and medical supplies. He got me a sparkly pink and silver tree. Of course, I do have all of my Chanukah decorations, too. In my world, they go together beautifully. The lights on the tree are not faring well this year, which makes me sad, because I hate to let go of things that Ben gave me.

As Ben’s ALS progressed, I had to be more creative with his gifts. I loved seeing gifts under the tree, but I hated waiting for him to open them. He preferred opening his gifts on Christmas morning, but relented and let me give him a gift on Christmas Eve. Usually, what was supposed to be an exchange of one gift became an exchange of all gifts, with him reminding me that we would have nothing to open in the morning. The child in me didn’t care…until the morning!

I tried to find practical gifts with some humor, like a Batman apron so he didn’t have to be covered in napkins when he ate, or a baseball cap with an LED light on the brim to aid us on evening excursions with his scooter. There was one year that he was having many problems with his fingers involuntarily curling. I went to the Gap in search of fingerless gloves and ended up buying three different styles. They were hidden in the closet waiting to be wrapped. One evening, Ben was lamenting his cold hands and describing what he thought he needed. I finally got up, went and got one pair, and gave them to him, confessing that they were one of his gifts. He laughed and tried them on. That prompted another description. I sighed, went back to the closet and came out with a second pair. This made him laugh harder. After that trial and more discussion, I threw up my hands and got the final pair. None of them were completely perfect, but he did not like mittens, which would have been the easiest solution for fit but not for navigation of the scooter. That event became one of our jokes, and on my birthday that year he gave me a charm of mittens from Tiffany & Co. It never fails to make me smile.

Yes, Christmas is a remembery sort of holiday.

There was the year that Ben broke his foot right before Christmas. Because his mobility was already impaired, he was completely bedbound for recovery and he was devastated. It was understandable- this was a glimpse of what his life was going to be. That night, to cheer him up, instead of waiting for Christmas, I gave him the DVD set of “The Universe” that he wanted so badly. I thought he would like to watch them while he was in bed. Then, to further console him, I pulled out a Monsters, Inc. projectable (sort of a nightlight that projects onto the ceiling) so that he just had to look up and see Sully and Mike. There was a projectable of a haunted mansion in our room at Walt Disney World that Ben loved, so this was my way of recreating that. Finally, I pulled out the photo collage blanket, so he could cover himself in favorite pictures while he could not get to his computer to look at all of his pictures. Of course, by the time Christmas came, there were not as many gifts!

Togethery and remembery, indeed.

Before ALS, Ben and I were fortunate to spend a Christmas at Walt Disney World. It was my dream and Ben was always happy to go there. It was crazy but it was magnificent, colorful, festive to the hilt and simply magical.

Now, with the togethery gone and just the remembery, I do feel lonely.  It’s been three years and I never know if those pangs of profound sadness and aloneness should have subsided, but I don’t fight them. I let them run their course and just try to focus more on the good parts, like those I shared here. Of course, I am so grateful for the wonderful, whimsical memories. But, the remembery makes me miss the togethery even more, particularly because Christmas was only really Christmas when my family was Ben.

As I was writing this, I realized that Ben gave me a dream come true when he gave me Christmas and that is a forever gift between only us that, in his honor, even if it’s with tears, I must continue to celebrate. Further, being Ben’s caregiver was, in an almost inexplicable way, a gift because it allowed us to share a unique and deeply loving bond that, honestly, was not always easy to see at the time. With that thought, I made this video of special memories, mostly from our visit to Walt Disney World in the Christmas of 2007, before ALS came into our lives, and then some photos of Disney and our holiday decorations at home. The photo of us with Disney, all in our matching Mickey Mouse pajamas, was our last Christmas and I am thankful that it was a beautiful Christmas. The video is set to a lovely song, My Gift is You, which is a lesser known original Disney holiday song but is not found in a film. It is on one of my favorite compilation albums, Essential Disney Love Songs as well as on Disney’s Merry Little Christmas. Words and Music by Gary Powell. Performed by Craig Hella Johnson and Leslie Whiteley.
 

I found great truth in these lyrics:
I love a gift wrapped in red
A gift under the tree
When the snow falls lightly for you and for me
But what I like most and what most rings true
Is the way I feel knowing
That my gift is you

I wish everyone a happy and healthy Christmas.

Walt Disney World, ALS

Ben and I with Santa (We know him!) in 2007, pre-ALS

Walt Disney’s Legacy- More than Animation (12.5.1901-12.15.1966)

Walt Disney, Walt Disney World

Walt Disney’s legacy lives on so vibrantly and timelessly in so many ways that it’s hard to believe that today, December 15, 2016 marks 51 years since he left this earth. I’m sure it’s no surprise that I love to read about him, and to get a glimpse into his artistic vision and the building of his business enterprises. His belief in himself and commitment to his art are things that we can all learn from. He’s been a part of my life for as long as I remember. I have such vivid memories of my mom talking about her favorite Disney movies and how she loved Mickey Mouse from the time she was a child. She was just a little girl when he was “born.” Mary Poppins was the first movie I ever saw in a theater. It just amazes me how Mickey and his friends touch the hearts of generation after generation. I believe that 50 years from now, and, as Buzz Lightyear would say, “to infinity and beyond,” Walt’s words of wisdom will still stand strong, as will his legacy.

My blog was inspired by the way that I was affected by Disney films, characters and lyrics in light of caregiving and loss. The same can be said about many of the quotes I’ve read by Walt. It seems to me that this is a good day to reflect on some of his words of wisdom that have consoled, guided, intrigued, and entertained me.  Now, they are helping me to look to the future with optimism, and I think that’s especially significant as we approach a new year.

“That’s the real trouble with the world. Too many people grow up. They forget.”

ALS,Caregiving,Grief,Walt Disney World, Disney

As someone who still has a lot of my childhood dolls and can’t resist adding new ones to my collection, it is obvious to everyone who knows me that I completely embrace the idea that you need to hold on to your inner child.  As I’ve said, my inner child is very much at the forefront of who I am. For me, watching a Disney film, and imagining a fairy or fairy godmother at my side, also allowed me to escape the realities of caregiving and loss. My husband, Ben, always said that he loved Walt Disney World because you simply forgot your problems. With a diagnosis of ALS, his problems were huge, but immersed in that fantasy land, he was a big kid having a wonderful time, even despite his challenges. For him to be able to feel that sense of joy and excitement was a gift. Walt Disney envisioned and provided that magical setting. I never want to lose the attitude that allows me to step right into the fantasy the way I did with Ben. I never want to stop wishing on stars or forget the wonder and delight that I had as a child.

“Why worry? If you’ve done the very best you can, worrying won’t make it any better.”

ALS,Caregiving,Grief,Walt Disney World, Disney

This is absolutely true. Alas, I am a worrier, and I have to work on this, but Walt was right. I can’t say that any of my worrying helped, although perhaps thinking through worst case scenarios may have helped me prepare for a variety of situations. I’ve heard that worrying burns calories, but I’ve seen no indication that this works! I worry now about my future, particularly without much family. But, the worrying isn’t going to affect any change, so it’s time to proceed in the best way I can, and make decisions I feel will help me to create a new life, or, rather, enhance my current one with new love, laughter, joy and peace.  I’m going to try harder to listen to Walt on this piece of advice!

“Life is composed of lights and shadows, and we would be untruthful, insincere and saccharine if we tried to pretend there were no shadows.”

ALS,Caregiving,Grief,Walt Disney World, Disney

Grief is tricky. I have taken steps forward, but I cannot predict something will trigger a setback. The reactions people have to grief also vary. Some people expect you to “get over” loss within a designated time period. Some people want you to act like everything is fine, because they are the ones who really cannot handle the emotions. There are even people who think it’s unhealthy to talk about the loved one you’ve lost. I have learned to dismiss those opinions and have gained a bit more confidence in my myself and my ability to embrace the broad spectrum of my emotions. There is more light in my life now, and less guilt about feeling happiness, and I know that the people who love and care for me are glad to see me enjoying life again. But there are also the shadows, and I am not someone who likes to, or can, put on a show of emotions. The good and bad moments are all okay.

“I always like to look on the optimistic side of life, but I am realistic enough to know that life is a complex matter.”

ALS,Caregiving,Grief,Walt Disney World, Disney

The Wishing Well at Cinderella’s Castle. We always wished for a cure for ALS. I still hope that wish comes true.

Some people might think that my obsession with all things Disney and talk of pixie dust and wishing on stars is silly. Well, I think silly is just fine (okay, within reason.) I like to think that it is my inner child reminding me of possibilities and letting me believe in my own happy endings. But, just like Walt, I am realistic and I have experienced enough of life to know that things get complicated, and sometimes, downright ugly. In the face of life’s complexities, it helps me to stay positive if I escape for a while into a Disney frame of mind.

“In bad times and in good, I have never lost my sense of zest for life.”

ALS,Caregiving,Grief,Walt Disney World, Disney

This quote made me think of Ben and his determination to enjoy life despite ALS. He surrounded himself with music and technology, and he ventured into the world and enjoyed all that he could with a zest for life that, I believe, let him manage the disease well for about four years. It was certainly a good lesson for me.

“We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we’re curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.”

ALS, Caregiving, Grief, Walt Disney World, Disney

This quote is my current inspiration for the future. I believe that my curiosity, desire to learn, love and compassion will carry me forward to find new and more love, laughter, peace and joy. I cannot deny that right now I feel a bit lost and lonely. At the same time, I feel cautiously optimistic about the exploration.

“All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.”

ALS,Caregiving,Grief,Walt Disney World, Disney

I think that I finally have the strength to summon the courage to follow my dreams. It feels pretty great, and yet a bit scary, to say that. I do believe that pixie dust would help.

“Laughter is timeless, imagination has no age, dreams are forever.”

ALS,Caregiving,Grief,Walt Disney World, Disney

This is a comfort to me. Laughter, imagination, dreams and, of course, love, were the key ingredients in surviving years of caregiving and loss. They have always been there when I needed them, even if, at times, they felt out of reach. This is something to remember always. Never lose hope. Never lose the spark of a dream.

“First, think. Second, believe. Third, dream. And finally, dare.”

ALS,Caregiving,Grief,Walt Disney World, Disney

That sounds like a good plan! Thank you, Walt!

On Disney’s “Coco” and The Power of Our Memories


The lyrics from the song “Remember Me” were very emotional.

Remember Me
Lyrics from Coco
Written by Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez
Performed by Miguel, featuring Natalia Lafourcade

Remember me
Though I have to say goodbye
Remember me
Don’t let it make you cry
For even if I’m far away I hold you in my heart
I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart

Remember me
Though I have to travel far
Remember me
Each time you hear a sad guitar
Know that I’m with you the only way that I can be
Until you’re in my arms again
Remember me

Today I went to see the new Disney movie, Coco, which opened on Wednesday for Thanksgiving weekend. It highlights Day of the Dead, which is a favorite unit of my Spanish language classes, who are often surprised to learn that it is not just “Mexican Halloween.” We make calaveras, the decorative skulls, and we talk about the concept of how the spirits of loved ones who have passed away are believed to come back to visit their families on that holiday. Their spirits live on as long as they are remembered by the living who loved them. I always tell my students that although I don’t really celebrate Day of the Dead, I am moved by the idea that the spirits of my parents and Ben would come back to me every year, but that I often feel that they are watching over me.

July 2014.
Trying on sombreros at the Mexican pavilion never got old with us!

2006, before Ben’s ALS diagnosis

I have always looked forward to the new Disney and Pixar films. I was definitely intrigued by this movie because of the theme. When Ben and I went to Walt Disney World, I did love the Mexico pavilion at Epcot, where the artisans could be seen making beautiful Day of the Dead crafts and spirit animals. As I took my seat in the theater, I thought about how one of Ben’s and my favorite traditions was going to the Thanksgiving Disney movie release on opening day, or opening weekend. As his ALS progressed, that became more difficult, until it became impossible. Today, I missed him terribly and felt very lonely and alone. Some things- particularly Disney things- will never be the same without Ben.

Coco was absolutely beautiful, but very emotional, given my own losses. For one thing, the character Coco is young Miguel’s great-grandma, who is delighted by her great-grandson, although her memory of him and of everyone, is fading. But, Coco is loved and respected, cared for by the whole family. I was happy to see Disney tackle the issues of respect for the elderly and memory loss in a sensitive, touching way.  But, it was also poignant, since it echoes my own experience with my great-aunt, with whom I was so close, but who now seems to know that I am familiar, but does not know who I am. Since she does smile and get animated when I visit her, I comfort myself with the belief that memories of me are somewhere in her mind. I cannot have the same relationship with her, but I continue to visit her and take comfort in making her laugh and smile without dwelling on that she does not know my name, or that I am her niece, the daughter of her sister, whom she also does not remember.

Also integral to the plot is the profound love of and connection to music that Miguel feels to his core. Ben would have strongly related to that. Playing music and recalling lyrics that resonated with him were key to who Ben was. I took comfort in knowing that Ben would have enjoyed Coco‘s emphasis on the vitality of music.

Since my birthday and Halloween, I’ve been struggling with missing Ben so much. This was our favorite time of year and there are constant reminders of him that make me feel very alone.  Although it unnerved me and had me in tears at various points, Coco was a powerful, and, actually, a positive reminder that Ben, my mom and dad, my grandma and all of the other people I’ve loved so deeply but lost, are always with me in my heart. I was fortunate to be able to tell my dad, my grandma and Ben that I would never forget or stop loving them. Remembering them keeps them close to me always and, very significantly, it keeps their spirits alive.  Sometimes that’s not enough, like today, when I wanted to be sitting next to Ben and holding his hand, knowing that as soon as he would have seen Coco he would have handed me a tissue and I would have started laughing through my tears because he knew exactly what tugged at my heartstrings.

In typical Disney fashion, it is a movie that can be enjoyed by children of all ages. It is vibrant and colorful and fun, yet it also carries important messages for all of us about life, aging, love and loss. Ben would have loved, as I did, that there was even some Spanish language in it!

Donald Duck hangs out in the Mexican pavilion at Epcot but I don’t know how much Spanish he spoke!

Gratitude- It’s A Super Power!

 

2011- The first time we went to Fantasmic!

I spoke to my students yesterday about the importance of gratitude, whether or not you celebrate Thanksgiving. When things are not going well, it helps to think of even the tiniest thing for which to be grateful- be it a favorite song or snack. Once you begin to think of those little things, you may very well find that there are many of them. I could see that what I was saying resonated with many of them, and I could see them perk up when I said that I have done that myself. Indeed, feeling and expressing gratitude has been a super power that’s helped me throughout caregiving and grief and emotions that have turned me Inside Out. What more appropriate time to summon gratitude than Thanksgiving?!

Grief is filled with ebbs and flows of emotion, and at times, I give into the loneliness and memories of the ugliness of cancer and ALS, the messiness- emotional and physical- of caregiving, as well as the profound sadness over my losses (A little more than two years have passed since Ben left this world, and it’s almost four years since I lost my dad.) The sadness is magnified around a holiday like Thanksgiving, which reinforces that I’ve lost the family to which I was so close. Thoughts also resurface of Thanksgivings spent in the hospital with my dad or at home with Ben, when he was understandably down about so many things regarding his ALS, including not wanting to eat pureed versions of traditional holiday dishes. And yet, although it was easy to lose sight of it at the time, Ben and I did have things for which to be thankful. Being able to feel gratitude was indeed a super power, because it gave us perspective that allowed us to always see the love that was there. I have been feeling down and alone lately, and reminding myself of the many things for which I’m grateful continues to warm my heart, even if those memories come with tears.

“The more you are in a state of gratitude, the more you will attract things to be grateful for,”
said Walt Disney. It certainly feels good to conjure gratitude, though when you’re facing a terminal illness like ALS or cancer, it seems almost disingenuous to think that you can put yourself into a state of gratitude and that you can attract things to be grateful for.  Ben lived in a state of denial about the progression of the disease, and I lived in a state of bracing myself for what might come our way, more relieved than grateful for any day without crises. As time has passed, I’ve learned that being “in a state of gratitude” is not to naively play the Glad Game and turn situations around like Pollyana did. It is not to ignore the bad experiences or diminish their impact, but, instead, to draw upon the very important power of perspective. I have a good cry when I need to, or when something triggers it, but I can also shift my focus to aspects of these experiences that compel gratitude. Once I’m thinking about things to be grateful for, I realize that I have quite a nice list. That’s a good and humbling feeling.

At the top of my list is gratitude to have been the caregiver for two supremely important people in my life. Caregiving surely was not easy, but it was the most important, valuable, loving and rewarding thing I have ever done. I could not save them, but they knew that I was completely devoted to them, and that I would love them, care for them and provide a sense of security to them until they left this world. I treasure the knowledge that they loved me.

I have said it before, but can never say enough, that I am grateful for my friends, who have shown me such kindness, generosity, compassion and encouragement, while I was caregiving and then, in grief. Their spirit extended to Ben as well. When family didn’t step in or made empty promises to him-and there were indeed disappointments and dramas-Ben and I  could always count on friends. I consider it a precious gift to have these wonderful people in my life and to know that I am loved and that Ben remains in their hearts.

I am grateful to find comfort in the arts and in my creative endeavors.  Blogging has been tremendously helpful, and I am grateful to know that readers find comfort in my words.

And, since today is the anniversary of the release of Toy Story, I must note that Buzz Lightyear was Ben’s very favorite Disney super hero. I am so grateful that even when Ben was feeling weak and somewhat defeated by ALS, Buzz brought him so much joy and laughter. This video clip is one of my very favorite memories. I am so grateful to have these memories.

 

Walt Disney also said: We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we’re curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.

I’m grateful to have settled into my life, enjoying many of the things I always loved, like going to the theater and spending time with friends, particularly friends I have not been able to see in quite some time. Yes, there is still loneliness and aloneness, but I never lose sight of how fortunate I am to be surrounded by wonderful people, a lot of love, and to carry with me in my heart very beautiful memories.

As I’ve said, I lost myself in caregiving but I also found myself. I discovered that I am a caregiver to my core, and I am pursuing my certificate as a caregiving consultant. I am grateful to have met some wonderful people who, tragically, are experiencing ALS as patients or caregivers. Sharing our experiences is emotional and powerful. I’m grateful to believe that wishes can come true and that there will one day be a cure for ALS and all devastating and terminal diseases.

I am grateful to be teaching in a new and wonderful public high school. Not only is it a healthier environment, but it allowed me to start fresh, away from my old school and the memories it held of the crises, illnesses and, ultimately, the losses of my dad and Ben. It is also an opportunity to redefine myself beyond being seen only as Abby, the person everyone marveled at and felt bad for because I spun in circles juggling caregiving and teaching; Abby the caregiver and the Daddy’s girl who lost her dad and then her husband, even though those experiences are an integral part of me. Not exactly who I am now, but as Walt said, I’m opening new doors and finding my way down new paths.

There are and there will be setbacks and I am consumed with feelings of wanting to be respectful to Ben’s memory and to make my dad proud. I am cautiously optimistic about starting down a new path to see where it leads. My memories will accompany and guide me on my journey and will always be a part of me, and that gives me great comfort and peace. And, I keep reminding myself of what Christopher Robin said to Pooh: “You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think.” I know I’ll be okay because I have the super power of gratitude that gives me a positive perspective.

Thank you for indulging this reflection and for sharing in my experiences in caregiving and grief.

Happy Thanksgiving.

With all good wishes,

Abby

Halloween 2010
Walt Disney World. Cinderella’s Wishing Well. Always wishing for a cure!