Making Lots of Memories, Living Before Dying

So in the Central Valley of California we are really dealing with major drought conditions.  A town I used to live in, Visalia, is down to watering one time a week and anyone who doesn't follow this will be fined. I think all the measures being taken are not enough. It appears we will run out of water.   So will this become a ghost valley like how we describe a ghost town?  My friend Martha had a real scare.  She lives in the country outside of Visalia.  They thought their well was dry, but they found out the pump needed repairing.  They are down to 30 feet of water in their well.  That sounds scary to me too.  They are hoping it lasts another year until they are scheduled for their well to be dug much deeper.  60 minutes had a very good report about the effects of the drought on the Central Valley this last Sunday (It was a repeat)s.  See the episode on using up the underground water by clicking on Link below. 

 Link

Last Sunday my son Jeff, his wife Stephanie and their youngest daughter Meghan came to visit. We had some of the family here to join us.  But since Kevin's birthday party was the day before, some had already scheduled the following day with other activities.  We barbecued chicken and with what each chipped in to fill out the meal, we had a huge meal. Stephanie shared with us her experiences of catering for groups of students making movies. This has been so successful, her name is being bandied about for future catering jobs. Of course, the whole family has been very aware of her excellent cooking talents. So it wasn't a surprise to us that this would happen. We are all very pleased her talents are being recognized.  They sold their home and are currently in a rental which they describe as bigger than their last home. They are looking to get a home at the beach.            Jeff started working at a start up company as a CPA which has huge potential.  So,  Jeff said though a lot has happened, it has been very positive. They will have an open house at their new home to celebrate their oldest daughter's graduation (Cassadie) from the University of  Oregon at the end of the month. 

It was a good day. I was telling Jeff how exhausted I felt these days for no obvious reason and he told me he had been feeling this way and was recently diagnosed with diabetes.   I had seen my oncologist that week and told him I was fine. At that moment I was and I couldn't remember what I was planning to bring up. (Write it down next time!)  It was about the exhaustion.  Stephanie and I didn't get in the pictures, but here are the others. 

Jeff Jerdin and Shelley Schmitt, Brother and Sister

Meghan Jerdin, Crystal Kline, Alyssa Estes, Kayla and Devin Kline, my Grandchildren

This week was my husband Paul's birthday. If he were still here, he would have been 74 years old. I really miss him as does the rest of the family. It is definitely not the same without him. 

My Red Hat dinner was the day of Paul's birthday. It was at a Thai restaurant I have not been to. It is called the Blue Elephant Thai Restaurant. The perfect place to eat since Paul and I were married in Thailand while on vacation.  The food was good, as was the company. But I was feeling nauseous and just all around, not well and left early.  

This week was also Shelley's birthday, Paul's oldest daughter, my step-daughter. We went to dinner at Mama Roomba's a fabulous Caribbean restaurant on First Friday, a monthly event in downtown Bakersfield, with the local art galleries open in the evening along with street crafts and musicians all around the area.   This area continues to improve and has been a draw to people as they hear about this event. It makes for a pleasant evening out. To get into most restaurants downtown at the time of this event, make a reservation because they are fill up fast, usually with those who made reservations.

Shelley and I standing at the entrance to Wall Street, an Alley with
Guthrie's Alley Cat in the Background

Shelley and I Standing in Front of Colorful Street Art

And then last night Shelley and I had a wonderful evening at one of the garden nurseries, Robby's Nursery. That place is so lovely. I could spend hours there!  It is gorgeous!  So this event had a chef who made several dishes using fresh herbs talking as he was cooking.  A couple of great hints we picked up is spray the fruit, meat or vegetable lightly with a no-stick spray before putting it on the grill.  It won't shoot back flames and you make sure the food is covered and less likely to stick.  The other great hint is similar.  Grill the veggies dry, then cover with the marinade to not burn the food on the grill.  Amazing that herbs you don't think of putting in drinks (like lemonade) add a nice touch, like oregano. There were also two women who were sisters who made the appetizers. They ended up sitting with us. Very nice people. They used to own Skateland, but recently sold it. The food was outstanding and wine was also served. It was also a wine tasting event. This was $25 per person and required reservations.   Shelley found out about it on Facebook.  Best deal for the money!  We were lucky with the weather which was in the mid-eighties. How fortunate for us!  It is heading to over a hundred degrees this week.

Shelley and I wearing Shades Before the Sun Went Down

Shelley and I with Two New Friends

I am in the Art group on Google+.  I admired the work of a photographer, Mike Dunbar. It really is artistic, especially his still life photos. I can't help but speak up about how impressed I am. He finally recommended a book by Joe McNally, The Moment It Clicks. So I ordered it on line through Amazon.  It took a while to get here. So one day he sent a message about how were Joe and I getting along. I was so confused and asked "Who's Joe?"  He replied Joe McNally!"  Then I remembered and said I'd send him a message when he came. So when it did come and I informed him, he responded, "I hope you'll be happy together."  Ha, ha!  That would look like a love interest!  Maybe, but in photography!

I saw one of my doctors this week. She is an Endocrinologist.  I forgot to tell my Oncologist about being totally exhausted. I told him I was fine.  I was fine right at that moment. So I tell her and she has ordered some blood work. I haven't been tested for diabetes since 2008. My friend Janet said low blood pressure could cause this. I take a water pill which has a side effect of keeping the body from spilling calcium when you pee. I have not had high blood pressure. So I sent a note about that to her.   I eventually got a follow up note from another physician that yes, low blood pressure can cause exhaustion, so I'm scheduled to discuss this with another physician in two weeks.

The other doctor I saw was the pain doctor for a follow-up visit after the cortisone injections in my back.  Since I have always tended to push myself in moving, doing things and taking care of business, these injections I believed helped me a lot.  I really don't want to slow down and I am hoping I can continue to be like this.  He told me that all people with back pain would benefit in knowing two things that would make a big difference in recovering and moving on or being more handicapped.  They are, don't bend and don't lift heavy items.  I know, I know, I cannot totally abide by this.  I don't have people readily available to do these tasks that require these movements.  I do set several things aside and wait until I see them if I can.

I worked further on my drawing of an Iris.  I think I may be done with it.

Iris in Graphite

Here is my picture of an Oriental Poppy I did in watercolor.

Oriental Poppy in Watercolor

I'm working on a rose, however, I was not getting the idea of the petals.  I spoke with my teacher on the phone today and she emailed me pictures to use as guides.  Fascinating.  One page of them has each petal in a different color which makes it easier to distinguish between each petal so much better. I will post it next week.  We need to have the drawn version done this week.  We will be painting from what we drew.

Here is a clear list on how to help someone who is grieving.  I think you will find it helpful. 

http://thegrieftoolbox.com/artwork/how-do-you-help-someone-grief

So this woman is going through her battle with cancer too and she wants to educate others on what people say that does not help. It is short and worth watching.  These were issues for me too.

https://www.facebook.com/holley.kitchen/videos/10153490757561869/

And here is my great-grandson Conner who looks much cleaner as he learns how to use a spoon when eating.

Conner Working on Eating with a Spoon

A very full week.  I have a few things going on this next week, including an overnight camping trip that my granddaughter Kayla.  Her friend Brianna will be joining us.  I think that will be particularly great!  I am making memories here.  I love it and I hope those who are involved with me in enjoying these gatherings get a kick out of it.  Have a wonderful week and I will see you next Sunday.

Rachel

How Do We Learn About Grieving?

When I used to work in hospice, I noticed that people had a lot in common. In our society we focus on how we are different.  There are pluses in differences. We are unique. But it can also make you feel alone. When I was diagnosed with cancer, I was very frightened.  I focused on me going through this alone.  I couldn't imagine anyone else hurting like me. I really didn't want to hear about other people's experience.  I was completely self-absorbed.   As a result, I hurt a lot more than I had to. 

The problem with that was I missed a lot of support I needed. When I saw patients and families, they were sharing the same thoughts and feelings I was having.  As I noticed this, I would share what they had shared with me and what I saw. Then people would ask me how did I know that about them. I told them I didn't.  I felt like this and other people shared the same things I was feeling. It was a real eye opener for me. The more I shared, the more others shared with me. We had a lot in common.  That helped me to cope better.

As much as I would have liked me to be that insightful then, I don't think I could have been. I've become aware that the learning curve takes life experiences and then work. There are experiences we need to  have before we have that insight.   It was later when I was told there was nothing more that they could do that I looked at this differently.  I made myself think about my death, my dying.  Of course, many people saw this as negative and not helpful.  They were wrong.  It helped me break through the barrier of fear that kept me from living my life the way I wanted to.

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I got a knock on my door after seven in the evening.  I didn't have the front light on and the knock was loud.  I was nervous about checking but sometimes my kids and grandkids stop by.  I  turn on the outside light and look through the high window in the door.  There is my neighbor Dianne who helped me when I got locked out of my house in my pajamas.  She was locked out of her house.  No one else has a key and she put sticks in all the windows.  So she used the phone and called her handyman.  He came about ten minutes later.  I used the opportunity to give her my key and we talked outside (the weather was mild) because she wanted to watch for him.  Her husband died five years ago and she finds the holidays a bad time for her.  I told her I don't try to do it like I did before, but I also prefer the holidays to be over.  So we came full circle.  She helped me and I finally had a chance to help her.

This was my last week of occupational therapy. I learned a lot and I have improved.  It is not all better.  I have better mobility and less pain. My therapist Linda Mather said the other changes are slow going and I will note these moves  at the year and two year anniversary.  What I do understand finally is use it or lose it.  I will always have to deliberately exercise it or I will do much less.

So I'm dealing with a bill from Dignity Health, the same one as before.  Kaiser paid $15.14 of a $302.00 bill.  Being transferred to many departments and being placed on hold is time consuming.  Thank goodness for a phone I can carry around and the ability to put it on speaker phone.  I can also get on my computer while doing this.  We couldn't do this in the past.  It took 25 minutes to get to the person who told me what to do.  She said to photocopy the bill and send it to them and they will attempt to work out the problem of how Dignity Health bills me.  Each visit I am charged $10 (lucky me!) under my Kaiser plan.  It could take another month to see if this is worked out.

Our Red Hat dinner was held in the Belvedere Room at the Padre Hotel.  I always love meeting with this group.  We had a wonderful surprise in that Stephanie McGuffey came after a long absence.  She looked great and said she would be a regular again.  Stephanie used to be the head of a home health and hospice I worked for.  She later noted I liked red wine and offered to Paul and me to join her for a dinner group that met once a month at each other's homes.  That was fabulous.  The problem for me was after Paul died,  I couldn't handle being in a couples group.  It made me too aware of what I had lost.  Anyway, it was wonderful seeing her again.  She suggested we come to Tehachapi (in the mountains) for one of our dinners and have a sleep over at her home rather than driving back down the mountain.  I would love that.  I met with her and Pamela Beane after the dinner in the bar to do some catching up. What a wonderful evening!

My great-grandson is nine months old. It is fascinating watching him gain skills and figure things out. Lots of fun. He is a well loved kid and it is obvious by the look on his face. 

Happy Conner at Nine Months Old

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One mother who lost her child through a stillbirth submitted this to the The Grief Toolbox -   thegrieftoolbox.com/ .   She states the needs well of those of us who grieve.    Her loss is a stillbirth, which is as painful as all other losses. 

How to help a friend who is grieving.  

Submitted by  letterstoleia    

I am not one to reach out to people for help, ever.  I am the person people come to when they need help.  I’ve always been the go – to person.  Suddenly, I found myself at the other end and I could not ask for help.

There is so much you can do to help someone who has experienced a loss.  For me, delivering our daughter stillborn has been the most horrific thing I’ve ever faced

There were lots of people who did come forward, and surprised us.  We did get cards in the mail, flowers and gift cards.  A friend sent an angel with Leia’s birth month on it; another had a porcelain angel made in the likeness of her. These things mattered to us. 

I will never forget those people. To be honest, I remember thinking that more people should be with me.  There were no invites to suppers, no random stop in’s to check on us, no phone calls, and nobody brought food.  For some reason it had always been instilled in me to bring food when there was a death. 

Living in the age of social media, I guess is to blame.  It is easier to shoot off a text, tweet or Facebook message then to actually reach out in person.  Most of our friends and family doesn’t live here to be fair, but still.

I’ve never been one to mince words so I’m not going to start now.  If you want to help me (yes I still need help six months later), here are a few things you can do.  If you are reading this, and you have a friend/family member who is going through a tragedy of their own take notes.  People might not want to admit they need help. 

• Ask questions about the child or baby
• Send a card – flowers are nice but sometimes painful to watch them die
• Drop off food, groceries or a care package
• Buy them a gift – something that will remind them of the child/baby
• Never stop asking how they are.  Keep the emails, tweets, calls coming
• Ask them over for supper or lunch
• Give money – funerals are expensive (even baby one’s) - time off work means no pay either
• Remember the anniversary’s and holidays (especially Christmas – fathers/mother’s day)
• Don’t try to offer words of advice or compare your pet dying to their loss
• Invite them to the movies  or over for a movie night (maybe not right away but in the coming Months)
• Ask how the father is and mean it
• Never assume anything
• If there are other living children offer to take them out
• Listen!

You can reach her at letterstoleia@yahoo.com    She is the mother to Leia Sky "who was born sleeping October 6, 2011."  It started as an online journal for Leia.

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My granddaughter Cassadie is blogging about clothes for college students.  This is her last year at college.  I know she will do well!  Here is the link to her blog:

My Beautiful Granddaughter Cassadie Jerdin

Cassadie Jerdin in the College Fashionista Blog

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Today my friend Barbara and I are going to another Bakersfield Community Concert program and we will go to Rosa's afterwards.  The group is Harmonies Girl's Choir.  I don't know much about it but it has rave reviews as do all the programs the Bakersfield Community Concert series has.

That's it for the week.  Life is going well.  I hope the same for you and I will see you next Sunday.     Rachel

Sharing Our Experiences

I did very little work on my watercolor prior to our last class with Carol Bradshaw. We worked on a country scene with a shed and a large tree by it.  I liked how mine worked with the fall colors.

Martha recommended bringing earplugs for sleeping at her home in Woodlake.  I stay there after the Helping One Woman meeting.  She said that since the riverbed is dry, the coyotes are coming near the house and sets the dogs to barking.  The dogs barked a little before I fell asleep but I didn't wake up after falling asleep.  I went to the Martha's home before we went to the Helping One Woman Dinner. The woman honored that evening lost her twelve year old daughter to cancer. This just started treatment in January. This woman, Heather came with her husband. He spoke for them and gave a very touching talk.  I don't think I could have talked. Kudos to dad. My friends Annemarie and Jeanne came. I'm so glad they did. I hope they'll be back. 

I had an appointment with my endocrinologist who felt I might need to have my parathyroid removed. She also discussed the possible issues if I don't have it done. It isn't a sure bet because I have multiple reasons for bones breaking and a slightly weaker area at my hip. I might have a higher percentage of bones breaking without the surgery. So I said I think I want the surgery if that is what is going on.  I got called the following morning to see the surgeon in Los Angeles on Friday. I agreed to that, but it cut it close. I get Herceptin at eight AM.  Sometimes it runs late, so I sent a message to alert them of my dilemma.  But they got me in first and called pharmacy to start mixing the meds.  My endocrinologist asked me to time my lab work for late November because I was having other bloodwork then. I called Kaiser and an RN told me to go ahead because the doctor would get those results the following day.  I was able to look at the results and they are all in the normal range. I wonder what gives?  

I met with my friend Janet at our regular haunt Mexicali's. She told me she had to put her dog Josh "Poopy" down the previous day. He became non-responsive and couldn't get up. She is grieving his loss. Her husband Ron had gotten Josh so this also brings up painful memories of Ron's death.  I'm calling to check on her.   She thought she should see someone and I suggested she see a psychiatrist and ask for Paxil (I take Paxil), she laughed and said "We could be Paxil pals!"

Anyway, the surgeon doesn't think that surgery is indicated yet. My stepmom Kate was with me so it helped to discuss it later.  We went to a very nice restaurant to celebrate not having surgery. I spent the night at Kate's home which I had not seen since before the kitchen redo. I think it looks great.  

Kate and I also talked about how she did when my dad died. She felt that medical people didn't take their concerns seriously and kept saying "you need support" as if it was a psychiatric issue instead of a medical issue. She was furious with them for treating them this way and has very bad feelings whenever she drives by where he was treated.   She said she kept busy because everyone was telling her to do that. Her feeling is that people will take whatever time they need to heal and we are not all alike. She also resented getting cards like " Rejoice!  He is now with Jesus!"  This made her angry and as a result she does not give people printed cards but sends a note letting them know how she feels. "At least that is genuine". She is right. She saw a movie which came out in 2000 Sous le sable (Under the Sand) where she could identify with the feelings of the character played by  Charlotte Rampling.  This woman was dealing with the loss of her husband and using denial to cope. Kate feels that it is our inner strength that gets us through these tough times and without that and other supports, it is hard to do.  "If you don't have supports, it makes it that much more difficult."  When I lost my husband Paul, Kate sent me this book The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion. I found it very helpful because i identified a lot with the feelings she  was having.  

Dainette, Meagan's mom had lost her husband several years ago and we talked about our experiences while Meagan was cleaning. We both agree "he's in a better place" or "he is no longer suffering" or quoting psalms is not helpful at all.  Our issue is that WE ARE HURTING!   We want our loved one with us but we want them healthy.  I am at a loss as to what words help. Please, if anyone has ideas, I would love to hear.

Here is a very interesting article -The Conundrum of Energy and Fatigue. When people are at the end of their life, they tire easily. Here it is put in perspective.  So keep this in mind when they can't do what the used to do. 

http://www.pallimed.org/2014/09/the-conundrum-of-energy-and-fatigue.html?m=1

I'm definitely getting more flexible moving my wrist and fingers. It's coming along.   I missed my appointment on Wednesday at eight AM because I had in my mind it was on Thursday.  I was just leaving Woodlake then for a 1 1/2 hour drive home. 

Meagan, my grand-daighter-in-law came Thursday and gave the house a good cleaning.  She, her mother Dainette and my great-grandson will be going to Texas to bring Meagan's best friend and her children back to Bakersfield. But, while they are there, they will visit Billy's father Johnny Ray, his wife and also his grandparents.  I know this will be very special for them. I'm asking "take lots of pictures!"

This is the latest video of Conner saying yay. 

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10204298811181836&substory_index=0&id=1575518000

Here are some cute photos of Conner. I feel like he is learning so fast!  I got some good pictures especially when he was looking at his mom and Grandma Dainette.

Conner in my living room 

My friend Valerie was in the hospital. They  still aren't sure if it was pneumonia,  but she was in isolation and we couldn't visit her. She was supposed to come for our barbecue on Sunday, but she has bigger things to deal with. We still had our barbecue and she called saying she was released when we were about to eat dinner.  We asked her to come over, but she didn't want to be seen in the condition she was in.   We will have another when Valerie is better we think after the first of the year. So Etta, Tina and Sherry were here.  It has been more than 35 years since we were all together.  We are talking about getting a group shot like we had then and that each of us will stand in the same place.  Good memories! 

My uVerse  was down and I  and I couldn't publish my blog yesterday.  Some were worried, but I'm fine.   The technician is still here.  I have been saying that this is like a dead zone and I don't get very good reception.  He agreed that it was an issue.  I hope he can fix it.  By the way, he told me to call NCCD an organization that helps disabled people but he said also elderly, I think I qualify.   You need to register with them and whenever you have a problem with uVerse, they will just send someone out to deal with it.  No charge for a service call.  I'm calling tomorrow.  The number is 866-241-6568.

I just want to get this out now, so I'm going to publish it.  Next weekend I'll be out of the area and will try to send my blog out.  I'll keep you informed.  Thanks for reading.       Rachel

Marykay shares and The Elephant

My stepmom called me and said she finally read my post on dad's death.  It felt like a disconnect to her. She said it was like she entered an alternate universe when reading my experience because it was nothing like her own experience.  Well that makes sense to me because we were coming from different places. I wanted to hear what was her experience at that time. She wasn't open to discussing it on the phone but said she would talk about it when we get together next weekend. That made me think that is probably very true on the other deaths I discussed here. I will ask others who were also there if they would be willing to share their experiences here.

There is this story that Ann Landers shared in one of her columns years ago about the elephant in the room. In that article it had to do with a woman's death and everyone in the same room not taking about it when it was obviously on everyone's mind. This woman's death was the elephant in the room. It took up most of the space, but they talked around it.  Well the other story about the elephant is about several blind men touching the elephant at the spot where they were standing. So when each gave a description of what the were touching, all their stories were different.  That seems to be the issue here.  Our perspectives are different. 

I asked my friend Marykay Feit if she would be willing to share her experience about the loss of  her previous husband by his committing suicide.  She did.   "I couldn't sleep so I thought I would finish this. I hope it is helpful and gives you insight  into my experience and feelings.  Love, MK".  Here is her story.

A friend reminded me that every time we peel away the scab, it allows the wound to heal faster.

As I write this, I am playing the sound track of The Hours composed by Phillip Glass taking the journey back to my  feelings of the life and death of David.  I slowly descend to that degree of our life together.  It was the time of my life that I was most hopeful and most challenged.  The story of The Hours was so close to how I felt about the experience of depression.

To write a explanation of my relationship with David, I need to explain how we met when we were friends with spouses and much younger; 26 and 30.  We didn't spend much time together, but when we did it was very casual.  David and his wife were invited to our house for a meal with their two children.  "Friendly" is the best way to say it.  We stayed in touch (his family and I) for the year following that first meeting; it was comfortable to talk and share experiences.  I watched him till the soil in his garden.  As my marriage was crumbling, I would wonder what made his life look so perfect.  We lost contact for over ten years as he and his wife moved away because of job changes.  I had always felt I had much more in common with him than with his wife who was somewhat different than me.  She shared superficial information, but I learned later she was a closet drinker.  David never talked about this part of his life then.

I visited them after going through a really bad divorce from my first husband.  They appeared to be the same, except they had kids in high school now.  Time passed and I went into another marriage of thirteen years and three children before this marriage died and I had the courage to say "enough is enough".  It took four really tough years to divorce this man.  During this time I received a phone call from David who wanted to see me.

He was taking a trip to Nepal and had joined the Peace Corp (something he had always wanted to do).  We met at my house for coffee and a chat.  We caught up on our lives of the past ten years and he explained that he had divorced his wife of 25 years.  His daughter was now a nurse who bought her first home and his son was in college.  He had indicated that he and his wife were estranged most of their marriage as she was a closet drinker.  They both taught special ed children.  We were both Catholic.  It was important to both of us.  My children were between the ages of five and ten.  Again, it was comfortable to talk sharing the events that brought us joy and pain.  He ended our conversation by asking if he could write to me and would I respond to him while he was in Nepal.  I agreed.  I truly thought it would be a nice thing to do.  I didn't see it as complicating the events and trials of my life.

The first letter came and I was so astounded by his openness and his good heart.  It was a chance to see the whole person and the soul of this really good man.  I read these letters like they were a travel log.  They were opening up a world in a faraway place,  painting a picture of a place that was so different than what I was experiencing with my day to day struggles as a single mother keeping the finances afloat, going through an ugly divorce with a man who wanted to control me.    His thoughts started to include me.  I got glimpses of how he felt about us.  When I read them to a friend she said, "he really likes you".  I hadn't really thought that was what was being said, but I thought she was reading between the lines.

He didn't stay in Nepal for a full year as his mother was dying and he wanted to return.  It was tearing at him.  Emotionally he couldn't handle it he would tell me later.

When we started to spend time with each other, it was clear that he wanted to be closer to me.  However, it was clear that there were things that needed to be dealt with and I now was living in another town, closer to my parents who were a part of my children's lives so that I could return to work.  I said I would never marry again unless I could get married in the church as I was raising my children Catholic.  Then he disappeared.  I didn't know what was happening but he would call now and then wondering what I was doing.  I was angry and sad that it appeared that our relationship was disappearing.  I was a full-time mom and a working woman and I had plenty to keep me busy, but I missed the attention from him and didn't blame him for being scared of taking on a woman with three children; but, it seemed that it was so abrupt. There were times I just was so dumbfounded and felt so strange that I just couldn't figure out what caused him to leave.

A year later, I got a phone call from David inviting me to have coffee with him at Denny's.  That was just like him; a casual meeting.  I arranged to meet him there.  It was so curious how comfortable we were sharing small stuff.  We shared the usual: family, health, events and what was coming up in our lives.  He took my hand and said, "Will  you marry me"?  And then he told me of the process he had been through with the church to receive his annulment.  We started to take steps to marry.

Looking back on it, these times seemed so normal.  You know "normal"; do this and that and the expectations of this and that all in the realm of what is expected and both of us being very happy.  He was a "doer" and was so proactive in problem-solving and sharing with the children.  It wasn't as if I didn't know that this was "work" as blended families are hard work, but he was there with me doing the things that needed to be done.  The year following our wedding, we sold my home and moved to another town. We purchased a home and helped the children adjust to all this "change", focusing on them - their lives and needs.  In all truth, we appeared happy and I thing he was.  I know I was.

One day, I can't really tell you the day, but I knew it was a year after our marriage, he came to me with a serious expression on his face and his eyes were glassy.  He said "I need you".  Puzzled I told him, "You've got me, you need yourself".  He started to explain that he was feeling depressed.  He said he had felt this way several times in his life "off and on", and it was back again and he couldn't shake it.  Now, I had worked at a psychiatric hospital for about two and a half years and and I knew several psychiatrists of good repute.  I encouraged him to go to one of them until he found one he liked.

I was really surprised by all of this.  It wasn't evident to me that he had ever felt depressed.  The next five to six years was a learning curve for both of us.  He continued therapy , however, he didn't respond to some of the medication trials.  They then started him on a medication cocktail [different medications together].  Then the doctor retired and a new doctored start to "correct" what was identified as Depression to another and move involved diagnoses of Bi-Polar Disorder.

Our relationship was strained and changed to another road of ups and downs.  It was a real struggle to stay connected emotionally as I am now dealing with someone who has changed and although I want to support his needs, I got the feeling from him that he wasn't there to interact with me, my daughters,  or deal with the situations of everyday life.

One of the realizations of the "truth" was on a Saturday, as I sat at the kitchen table, he emerged from the bedroom with a backpack telling me he was going to go to his sister's cabin for a few days and spend some time alone following his summer school teaching classes.  This time he didn't tell me in advance that he wanted to do this. I felt so alone and it became one of those truths, that he will leave someday and I wouldn't know when or why.  He did this at Christmas time too.  He would get dressed and tell me as he was hold the knob of the door, "I am going to meet my children and their mother for Christmas dinner and exchange gifts".  I was not invited nor did he ever explain further than to say he had promised his children that he would do this for them as part of the separation agreement with their mother years before.

I'm jumping now to March of the last of our eight years of marriage when he emerged from the bedroom on a Sunday appearing very drunk-like.  I asked him what had he taken or done and he said he took all of his Ambien. He couldn't walk very easily.  I locked arms with him and shouted to my children that we were going to the hospital. There had been many conversations and explanations with my daughters about his depression.  And now, it was a new level of chaos.  He couldn't hold a conversation and as I was in the emergency room, the doctor came to me saying, "you can sit her if you want" and then followed it with the explanation that they, the hospital staff calculated from the prescription and the date, he wouldn't be going anywhere.  They would hospitalize him and stabilize him and he would sleep for a while.  With all the concern and turmoil of my emotions, I sat there with the thunder of other noises and machines in the emergency room listening to him snore.  I wanted to kill him!  How could he do this to himself, or me, or to his children, or to my children!  I stopped myself from getting on the pity pot and started to look at this as a challenge of "what to do next"?!!!!

I moved through those days that followed as the professional, being a social worker, contacting his family who visited him in the acute care and sharing their concern with him.  I have always wondered if he ever discussed with his family about his depression, but it wasn't clear.  He went into a psychiatric inpatient facility for over a week and he was placed on a new medication.

I was now working at one of the Regional Centers where I was surrounded by other professionals in social work and other mental health fields.  I started talking to some people who could help me deal with getting him the best help he could get as he started telling me what he was experiencing.  He and I did not like his doctor's approach and they recommended that we find another doctor.

I'm getting exhausted just remembering the phone calls and changes that led to new directions for the care and wellbeing of this man who was so distraught.  He was also starting to "fight" me.  He was doing things that I didn't think he should do: i.e.. drink beer every night.  OMG, I started to count the beer bottles and track how much he was drinking!

I drove him to Stanford Hospital to the psychiatric department offices.  We met with one of the psychiatrist who spent two hours with us.  She listened to his story of years of dealing with depression without formal treatment and the increased impact of the past year on medications that didn't work or weren't very effective.  She was so helpful and I felt hopeful that there was going to be a change.  She wasn't going to be the primary doctor as we lived three hours away, but she wanted to be part of the "team" to treat David.  She told him to seek out a new psychiatrist.  We did do this, bust we sought one in a larger town away from where we lived.  This doctor would be the primary practitioner (who did the physical and communicated with the other physicians in the team).

I decided to seek a counselor (MFCC) for an opportunity to start therapy for myself.  I don't remember if David even knew of this decision, but I needed someone to hear my thoughts and feelings.  My brain and heart were on overload.  I couldn't talk to David about my fears, anxiety, anger, feelings of abandonment and my sadness.  Every week, I saw this woman and she allowed me to pour out my feelings and heard what I had to say.  She gave me a platform to hear that I was sane, normal (however that is defined) and told me it and I were "ok" and safe.  At least, this is what I felt when I hid from him and others some of the personal anxiety of my "truth".  I knew when someone had attempted suicide and "failed" to complete the task, the next time they would find a way to do it again and succeed.  It haunted me to the point I became hyper-vigilant  and distracted.  Little by little in the weeks of April, May and June of that year, I was able to focus on being there for my senior in her last months of high school, I stayed connected with my oldest daughter who was living out of state on her first career job and I communicated with all my daughters about life giving me peace and connectedness.  I was able to continue to be successful at my own job.  During this time, it was clear to me that my relationship with David was so estranged, but it was important to me to stay connected and remain calm as he finished his school year and continued therapy with the psychiatrist.  He didn't share much with me, but we ate our meals together, became involved with the girl's activities and were able to function as if everything was "ok".  It was like walking on pins and needles at times.  I used to think about staying in the moment and finding comfort in the daily routines.  It was easy at times and very difficult at other times.  I found that sometimes I would smile when I was really masking my uneasiness.  He kept busy.  He did yard work, schoolwork, and went to the end of year activities with his staff at the school where he taught.  There was a rush to complete paperwork, documentation of the children's progress and also meeting with parents and caregivers.  Nighttime routines were watching the clock slow down, lowering the lights and doing bathroom routines  (I can talk about this so clearly now.  As the weeks followed his death, I would cry hearing the water run in the bath, hear the sprinklers turn on and off outside.  I avoided being in the house when no one was there.)

As was his practice, after the end of school, he packed his backpack and informed me that he was going for some time at his sister's cabin in the mountains.  He liked to hike with his walking stick and take pictures.  By this time he appeared to be much more comfortable with his new medication regime,  and was going to his doctor appointments.  Although he didn't talk to me much about his thoughts or feelings, he appeared to have returned to being involved with life.  During this time, our relationship was ok to the outside world.  I felt more like a caregiver than a wife and it was somewhat lonely in the midst of the hustle and bustle of life.

That weekend I helped my daughter prepare for her senior graduation for  a trip with eight of her girlfriends to Hawaii.  With David on his trip, and the scheduled plans for my youngest daughter's trip, I was looking forward to some time to slow down and do some things for myself;  I needed to relax alone; It would be like breathing.  You know, when I could take long baths, go to the store and look at other things in life,  going to yard sales, visiting my parents and taking a deep breath.

I had some thoughts about David's whereabouts on and off during his absence.  He had called on the second day and wanted to talk when I was in the middle of helping my daughter pack.  I asked him if I could return his call after I had finished with her as she would be leaving in the morning and I was almost finished.  He had agreed.  (as I write this I am hesitating, questioning if I remember my facts correctly).  When I called him back, he didn't answer his phone.  I called several times and there was no answer.  I was thinking he could have gone for a hike and didn't take his phone.  Or maybe there was no more time left on his phone.  In the morning, I called again and it continued to go to message.  By the late afternoon, I called his sister who lived in another town if she had seen or talked to David.  She told me she wasn't in the mountains and did not hear from him.  She reassured me that he liked to go for morning walks, sometimes several times in a day which could take him farther away from the cabin.  I called his daughter and shared some of my anxiety about the inability to reach him and asked her if she would try to call him as he might not be answering my calls if he was upset with me.  She did and then called me to say she too couldn't get a response.  By the third day, I didn't feel comfortable and needed to take more action.  His sister said she would call her neighbor in the mountains and ask him to check and see if there was any evidence of David's presence at the cabin.  She called me and reported that the neighbor couldn't see his car and didn't think there was anyone there.  Now, I wonder if he is safe and he may have run into trouble; maybe car trouble.  His daughter and sister and I decide to take the next step and contact the Sheriff's Department to make some kind of search.  Now I don't remember clearly the person who called next.  I do remember it was the next morning when someone called and said they found David.  I think it was a Sheriff or maybe it was David's sister.  He/she told me the coroner would be coming to see me later in the morning.

I remember a sense of feeling outside of myself almost numb.  The hours and days that followed were full of events that seemed foreign and strange.  I had not been here before.  I felt lost, I cried off and on, I made calls to my daughters who decided to come home, his daughter and son, and his sister who made contacts with his side of the family.  As I write this, I feel so far from that time now.  It was such a strange and awful time.  I reached out to the people who knew me for support and they gathered around me with such great and comfortable understanding.  I remember feelings of wanting to push everyone away because I didn't want their pity.  I called my boss and girlfriends at work and they were all so wonderful.  I was so scared, angry, sad, fearful and lost track of time and any events other than "taking care of business".  I couldn't have done this without the support of my daughters and friends.  My family (parents, brothers and sister) were as supportive as they could be however, they just didn't understand.  Rachel, your stay with me and the girls was so helpful to gaining understanding and support.  The two weeks that followed June 28th was full of foreign experiences.  By this time I could explain to my therapist what happened and I was so grateful for her insight and her kind words.  I felt exhausted, as if I had climbed out of a deep hole.

The funeral was big.  The priest wanted me to wrap the ashes in a form of a pretty package.  I just couldn't do it as David wouldn't have wanted that.  He was not a fancy man.  He was simple, plain and loved the music of Cat Stevens.  At the end of the funeral mass of several hundred people, the musician sang "Moon Shadow".  David would have loved that.

My journey out of the stages of death and dying: before, during and after David's death took multiple years.  I know I loved him.  I hated him.  I cared about him.  I thought he was a good man with a horrible disease.  I was angry he didn't tell me about his experiences of depression before he married me.  He was there and he wasn't there. We were together and we were each alone.  I was grateful for the best part of him and so angry for the parts of him he kept from me.  I survived.  Then I lived again as I went looking for "me".  I know I wasn't alone as my faith tells me that God loved me too.  And, I have held onto that fact.  I did everything I could to make a difference for him.

I was told by the coroner that I couldn't see him as he had been dead for several days and his body had started to decompose from the heat of the car.  He was cremated and I kept his ashes on the mantle in my living room for several years and would talk to him when I needed.  His family, even his ex-wife wanted the ashes to do what they wanted to do as far as burying them.  At the end of the third year following his death,  I drove them to his parents' grave site and made arrangements for them to be interred near by.  I remember him in my prayers.  It has been 12 years now.


After Marykay wrote this, we responded back and forth by email.  She made a good point about the meaning of doing this for herself and I would like to share it:

OMG!  It took almost four hours to write as it did tap into those experiences which I thought were a part of my past.  However, as I wrote it and read it to Mike [her husband now], I think I am so lucky to have moved beyond it.  The girls have moved ahead.  All of us have a respect for this experience we all went through.  And, respect for David's memory has been a part of the healing.  I have gained some insight into my own journey which brought me here.  I now share much with Mike regarding losing a spouse [his first wife died of cancer].  It was a different process, but it was the same.


I shared my experience of David's suicide on August 31,2014.  My blog is at racheljerdin.blogspot.com   If you go here, you can scroll down to it.  The title was            The Impact of Suicide.

From a blog  by The Shiksa and the Urban Girl.  This one is specifically on loss:

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=784095138302937&substory_index=0&id=695008073878311

I think we need a language for grief and bereavement .  I'm talking about what we can say to each other when we are hurting so bad from a loss.  I do say and have said I'm sorry for your loss.  But, this doesn't really cut it. Of course someone would be sorry, but that doesn't help me.   The things that were most helpful were when people were willing to listen and be with me. What words have helped you?  What action done really meant a lot to you?  It may not be the same for all of us but I think there would be something genuine, from the heart and from a vulnerable place we all can go to when connecting with another person.  

This is My great grandson waiting at the doctor's office.

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10204264246517741&substory_index=0&id=1575518000

I'm getting stronger in therapy and I have much less pain.  Linda Mather is an excellent occupational therapist.  I don't expect to be all "fixed up" when I end my treatment after five more sessions, but I know I'll get better.  It is very heartening!  

My watercolor class with Carol Bradshaw was very good. We watch her do it, then we do it. My hot air balloon improved a lot. I didn't work much on my pumpkin, but will do more. We are also working on a beach scene and learning to do clouds. It was fun!

This one barely started - Sand Dunes at the Beach

Hot Air Balloon

Pumpkin

I had my last class with Nina Landgraff at Bakersfield College. I learned a lot. Of course, a lot of it was repetition from the last class I had with her.  Really enjoyed this. I did my homework mostly with pen this time. See below. Others did some great work. It was impressive to see what people did.  I'd continue to take classes from her when they are offered.

Boxes Going to the Same Vanishing Point - Done in Graphite

Drawing Textures in Ink

Using Textures for fish Scale, Eyes, Horn, and Feet Done in Ink

Squirrel done in Ink and Charcoal

I met a friend I hadn't seen in years, Jeanne at Mimi's Cafe. We got to know each other when we worked in hospice together (she is an RN) and it also was when I was initially diagnosed with breast cancer, had surgery and then chemo. She has a special place in my heart.  We had an excellent team at the time.  We all felt our work was a "calling". We had a wonderful leader in Susan who also had a great sense of humor. We were very supportive of each other and we all felt we were growing with the experience.  It was the best working situation I was ever in.  The patients and their families all helped us grow.   We talked about reading and what we like.  I told her my favorite escapist literature has been The series by Diana Gabaldon starting with Dragonfly in Amber and the other being J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter.  I never thought I would get into either style of book, but they were great and they both have a huge following.  Jeanne lost her husband of quite a few years about three years ago.  She was his caregiver for a long time because he had become so ill.  She remarried a year ago and is now doing very well.  She reads my blog because it normalizes some of the feelings she has.  

Janet and I got together at Mexicali's.  I vent to Janet when we get together.  Not much but it allows me to let it go and get on with life.  I really am very fortunate.

So Michael Feit came to my rescue in explaining how to put the pictures on my blog.  Got it! Thanks Mike!  I really do appreciate it.

I think this enough for today.  I hope you are doing well.  If anyone is in a place that they are willing to share like my friend Marykay did, please send it to me.  I would be glad to help edit it if it is needed.

I'll see you next Sunday.        Rachel

Facing Paul's Death

In 2007, my husband Paul was very private about his feelings. I believe he was aware of something wrong with his health quite awhile before he let on to me that there was an issue. Paul was complaining about congestion in his chest in December before his death. He also sent letters to all his grandchildren telling each one how special he or she was and encouraging each to grow with the strength each had. I urged him to see a doctor about the congestion. He was given oral antibiotics to clear it up.  It didn't help and he was eventually sent to have a lung biopsy. This was done just before a trip we had scheduled to go to Australia.  Paul still wanted to go. 

Paul was having a lot of pain but I was having trouble getting doctors to order pain Meds for him.  I think Paul was playing down symptoms so they didn't realize how serious this was.  I called a friend of mine who was a nurse and told her what was happening. Her partner was a doctor who ordered pain Meds for him.

Our time in Australia was very hard for us. Paul slept a lot and then toughed it out when we went sightseeing and visiting my cousin Louis and his family outside of Sydney. 

The flight back home was very rough. Paul said "I don't think I can walk off this plane".  I told the flight attendant and she said, "Why didn't you make arrangements for this?"  I let her know that we didn't realize it was this bad. When the plane landed there was someone waiting with a wheelchair. I don't know if it was for us or not, but we took it. Everything took so long that we missed our flight from Los Angeles to Bakersfield. 

I arranged a rental car. Paul was having problems holding foods down but was very hungry. He asked for a drive through meal and promptly threw up what he ate. 

We had put our house up for sale to return to Bakersfield to be near our children because we sensed that he was not well. We lost one buyer while we were on the trip because they didn't qualify. 

When we got back, we had a medical appointment on Valentines Day when we were told he had lung cancer that had metastasized and was stage IV.   I wanted to stay home to care for Paul but he insisted I needed to work.  How I handled this was to call early afternoon.  If there was a problem, I left work immediately.  This ended up being very regular. 

Since we were planning to move back to Bakersfield, we changed his insurance back to Kaiser Permanente during the open enrollment period and drove to Bakersfield for his medical care (1 1/2 hour drive). 

Paul wanted to tell his children and grandchildren what was going on and we arranged a time to do this. Paul's daughters were there with their children. 

Paul woke me up often wanting to talk. One time he wanted coffee, so I made it and brought it back to our room where we had a sitting area. After a while, he said "I can sleep now".  I couldn't. This was about three in the morning.  I had many nights like this. So I was chronically exhausted at work. 

We finally had a buyer for our home and made a couple of trips to find a home in Bakersfield. Paul asked "Do you want a house like this or one you will be able to pay off?"  I asked for one I could pay off.  We found an older home that was maintained fairly well and made an offer. They accepted this. 

In the mean time I was packing. Paul was unable to help. Family and friends helped us with this. 

On moving day in Visalia, Paul stayed at a hotel in Bakersfield.  He wanted to help but he knew he couldn't. I was in Visalia when the movers came.  The moving company would place the furniture in our new home the following day. 

On Friday. I went to see my friend who was the head of the hospice organization I worked for.   She was there, but I found out later she was on the road a lot and was rarely there.  She took me to her office where I promptly broke down in tears telling her that Paul was not doing well at all.  I was overwhelmed and we needed help but I couldn't think about what to do.  She agreed to have her doctor friend and her come to talk with us about what was going on.    Jennifer was very direct with us stating that Paul was dying.   She had asked him a lot of questions and took his vitals.  Paul and I reached for each other holding hands with our eyes tearing up.  Paul said "This is what we do when we get bad news.  We hold each other." Jennifer who was a doctor providing palliative care but also a doctor for hospice care gave us prescriptions to control various symptoms.

I stayed with Paul at the hotel in Bakersfield the night before we would be in our new home. Paul did not want me to sleep in the same bed because movement made him have spasms of pain.  He woke me up in the middle of the night and said "Rachel, are you awake?"  I said I was. He said "I have something very important to tell you, are you listening?"  I told him I was. He said "I wanted to tell you I feel absolutely normal as long as I don't move, but I know I'll have to move and then I'll have a lot of pain.  But, at this moment I feel fine". Of course he did have to finally move and he was overwhelmed with pain. 

Family was at our new home. The moving company came and had all furniture in the right rooms and set up within two hours. Family helped organize our home to live in.    Paul's son Jeff and his family stayed here. Paul let them know he did not feel he would live much longer.  He told them that I had been very helpful to him.  He also told us he wanted hospice care. 

During this time his feet were swelling up badly. I was alarmed and said we needed to go to the ER.  He said he wanted one of his children there because he was concerned I would push him to be admitted to the hospital. I told him I would never do that but I was okay if all his children came. Paul made it clear to the ER doctor at the hospital he would not agree to being admitted to the hospital and also stated he wanted hospice care. He was given a prescription to flush this fluid.   

On Saturday we officially asked for hospice care and on Sunday the equipment came to make Paul more comfortable. Paul's children went home. We had the bed set up in the living room and I slept on the sofa. 

Around three Monday morning, five days after we had moved back to Bakersfield into a new home, Paul woke up trying to get on the bedside commode and vomiting. I shot up to help him, but he was too big for me to handle alone. I needed to call his daughters and unlock the door. I was so afraid of leaving him and he falling.  I thought about how I could make a loop to open door and grab the phone, then return to hold him as fast as I could.  I was able to do this and did reach his daughter Jennifer who came over immediately. As we were trying to figure out how to get Paul back in bed, Paul died. Jennifer asked, "Did my dad just die?"  He had. We both burst into tears. I started calling family and hospice.  The hospice nurse came and made the call to the mortuary. Jeff's family said they would come back. In the mean time, the mortuary came to pick up his body. We held them off waiting for Jeff and his family to get here.  Shelley helped in cleaning up. 

When Jeff and his family came, we all said our final goodbyes. We went out to breakfast. All of us felt detached from reality. Jennifer and I made an appointment at the mortuary.

When Jennifer, Jeff and I went to the mortuary, we made arrangements for his cremation and where his ashes would go. Jennifer asked me to also make arrangements for myself to cut down on the trauma of this process. Though initially, I was horrified at this thought, I did it. 

I had a lump growing on my neck and I suspected it was my cancer metastasized. It had been going on for months, however Paul's situation was primary and I didn't think I could deal with both our problems at the same time.   I had made an appointment the day Paul died but rescheduled it the following day since there was so much going on. 

My friend Cathy Seguine went with me. The doctor thought it was cancer so he scheduled a biopsy which was done soon after Paul's service.  It turned out it was now a stage IV and metastasized. I was so glad Cathy was with me. I couldn't retain what I was told and I was devastated.  Cathy took notes and we talked about it later. 

It was difficult to know what was harder, losing Paul or being told there was nothing more they could do for me except for comfort measures. I was a basket case. I attempted to bury myself in my work which helped a lot, but I also needed to grieve. 

Next week I'd like to talk about what happened then with my own treatment, how I coped and grieving over Paul's death. 

Back to current time:

Enjoyed Dolphin Tale 2 with Barbara, Jacquie and Debbie. Family oriented and uplifting. Had dinner at The Great Castle. They have many vegetable dishes in addition to meats. We are talking about going to Mama Roomba next time. 

I stayed home most of Monday to get the bookcases that were being delivered.  Well, in the evening I opened the front door and they were leaning against the house. I have no idea when they were delivered. An email was sent to me to put it in the room where it will go. I'm so glad I have a dolly. I was able to do that. 

I saw an occupational therapist early Monday to learn exercises to become more mobile after the surgery I had.  I thought her name was familiar, Linda Mather, and she also looked familiar.  It turned out we worked together at Kern Medical Center and Kern View in town.  I was 27 when I moved here so our initial meeting was 38 years ago.  Holy cow!  That’s shocking!  That many years?  We knew a lot of people in common.  The only one she mentioned who I still see is Marykay Feit.  Almost like homecoming!  Linda taught me some great exercises and I’m working on them.  I’ll see her next week for a total of six weeks.

I had my art class with Carol Bradshaw. I only had my outlines done but got good feedback to work further. We started on watercolor. I didn't buy anything for it but she was able to loan me some supplies. We worked on the tools we'd need, how to do a flat wash and a graded wash. After class I bought my supplies mostly at Michaels, but some from Aaron Brothers. At both stores young women helped me to locate what I needed.  They were very helpful and kind.

I went up to the Helping One Woman which is held at the Marriott in Visalia. The parking lot was full. There were three men talking by my car.  One was saying to the others "Well, if we have to autopsy all of them, we will."  Definitely not the group I was meeting with. They turned out to be a part of a Coroners Convention. 

It was a good dinner with the Helping One Woman.  The family and classmates were there supporting a young man who has been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer and now going through treatment.  A woman nominated this young man's mother for this.  We were moved into the restaurant because the coroners got the ballroom.  People seemed very relaxed and having fun.  I certainly was doing better.  They have people selling arts and crafts and there was someone from Pampered Chef.  That worked out well.  The Occupational Therapist recommended their jar opener, so I ordered it.  I need all the tools to make doing things easier for me.

I stayed at my friend Martha’s home after the Helping One Woman dinner.  She took the battery out of the clock so that didn’t affect my sleep like it did last month.   Next month Martha and I will spend time together the next day.  I needed to get home because of work being done here.

The electrician I called last week was coming that day.  He moved the eye of the sensor and it worked.  He showed me what was happening and what to do next time it would happen.  He didn’t have his tools because they have a contract with PG&E and his son had to go to another job so he checked out what was happening.  He said if I had tools he would see what he could do.  Well,  I did have them because my husband had tools, but before we got together I had my own tools for small jobs around the house.  Wes, Heather’s boyfriend had me order a particular part.  It turned out to be correct, but the holes to screw it to the fan/light were too small.  I had a drill and he was able to widen the holes to get the screws to go through.  I had a bulb that went to 150 watt and he told me that was too high for this and to not go higher than 65 watts. I went back to the store to get the right bulb.

In addition to that going on, the man came to put the bookcases together.  He was from Fresno (a good two hours away) and did't call me to see if I was here until he was about a half hour away.  He was shocked to see the 559 area code which would be the area he was coming from.  I have kept the same phone number I had in Visalia which panicked him.  He was relieved after driving so far that the house was not north of here

The Kern County Fair is an important event here. I went with my friend Barbara and three of her friends. It was senior day and there was no charge for parking or admission.  We limited our interest to the arts and crafts, collections, art and photography.  Last year my brother Ben and I went to the Los Angeles County Fair. That was such a disappointment. It was mostly commercial and little space was given to the work of individuals. I prefer the Kern County Fair even if some collections were hokey.  

This is a short video of Conner trying to figure out how to use a whistle. Interesting watching him think about this. 

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10204026665418362&substory_index=0&id=1575518000

Thanks for reading!  I'll see you next week.    Rachel