Thirty Days of Mo(u)rning

A widower at forty-two. What Kateri gave me… what cancer took away… and how I'm coping with life from the woods of Vermont
Thirty Days of Mo(u)rning
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  • Monthly Archives: August 2018

    • Widower Day 122… four months.

      Posted at 11:03 pm by Darren Lidstrom, on August 22, 2018

      IMG_3070I remember the three month point of all this widower shit and it being quite the emotional day.  As I realized I was coming up on four months… well, I felt prepared.  Of course, then a co-worker at the job tried to compare them needing to take a break after being gone for two and a half hours to the time when the crew covered for me as I was watching my wife die from cancer in palliative care and the two weeks I took off afterwards.  They actually said, “You should remember when we all…”, I cut them off right there.  If you don’t know me I can become very “animated” if something doesn’t jive with me… and that definitely didn’t jive with me.  The fact that I had such a traumatic event in my life being used by an individual to try and justify THEIR actions, to move the actions of a collective group (covering for me)… of a team from an act of kindness and empathy to something that is required to be paid back is just wrong in my eyes… especially when there is no connection to the two events except for how we should treat each other in the grand scheme of things.  Ya, I flipped my lid… and I don’t really apologize for it.  I have also moved on from it… besides writing about it now I guess… because we all say stupid things and life has taught me that there are levels to what is really important… and what is not.  Now all I have to do is figure out how to not let good people saying stupid or inconsiderate things get under my skin.  The next time I say something stupid might be when I start that process… which could be later tonight.  That all being said, I’m actually holding up ok with life on my own… kinda… I think.

      Four months.  I’m in the beginning stages of what they call “The Pits”.  At least that’s what the piece of paper I got in the mail tells me.  I feel like that stage started a couple of weeks ago, but I was also spending any free time working on the bathroom Kateri and I started remodeling last year. I just never wanted to stop and chat with people… or hang out at the beach… or visit friends at their places… or sleep… or eat. It was a lot for two weeks.  Not just the hours at work and then at home… and then work… then home tiling and installing shower systems to an almost usable state, but also the emotions that came up while staring at a wall as the rows of subway tile creeped north three and a quarter inches at a time while Powerglide or some Willie Nelson song played out of the little JBL speaker I had gotten for Kateri during her first hospital stay in February.  At points, I found myself just sitting in the tub, fully clothed (no water), and not knowing exactly how long I had been sitting there. I wanted to get excited to take a bath once the weather turns a bit cooler, but I couldn’t.  I just thought about Kateri… and hoped that she would be happy with the work I had done so far… (and now I’m crying on my front porch).  Although I say I’m ok, I’m good, I’m hanging in there… it’s been rough.  Just like anything else where people say good job, I still really only care about what Kateri would think… and I’m trying to get past that thought a little because I know she isn’t here and that she will never be able to sit in the bathtub on a cold Vermont winter evening and rest her head against the subway tile as Etta James fills the air (She would still complain that the tub is too shallow to allow her boobs to really float).

      IMG_E3177

      Brooks Lake Lodge… 1999

      One hundred twenty-two days in and I really haven’t done anything with the house… decorating, rearranging rooms, packing stuff away, etc.  When Kateri first passed, I freaked out and was trying to figure out what I should do with everything…  what was hers, what was mine, what do I leave out, what do I get rid of? Early on I realized that it’s all OUR stuff and this is still MY home that WE were lucky enough to get… and we filled it with all of our crap.  I learned that I don’t need to do anything except take care of myself, and that kind of stuff will take care of itself in due time.  Although it is hard when everything you look at is a memory of a life that is no more, it’s all still a part of life… of my life… and those are the things that keep Kateri present in my world.  It’s hard… and emotional… but I’m very thankful to be surrounded by the life Kateri and I made with each other starting from the back country ranch in Wyoming when we were in our twenties all the way to our little red schoolhouse in the woods of Vermont… in ourIMG_2925 forties. Time keeps moving.

      Some side notes about the last four months.

      • I’ve been making my bed less, but the house is clean, my one carpet (from a shed in Nederland) is vacuumed, wood floors mopped with vinegar/water, dishes are done… most the time, shower is currently clean… I usually give it a scrub after I realize I’m grossing myself out as I’m trying to wash the day off of me.
      • I try to stay on top of the lawn… ummm, mowing that is… not like “any day above ground is a good day!” type thing.  Literally trying to keep it from looking like shag carpet.  Luckily, I think I live on one giant ant hill so the grass doesn’t grow THAT quickly.
      • I’m still not eating much… just enough, but the paper in the mail said loss of appetite is normal… so I figure I’m ok.
      • Not paying attention to the news too much.  I hit the headlines, read a little of this or that, but for the most part I get the gist that fires are raging (because it’s summer and other science type stuff), there’s some horrible people and events out there, there’s some people doing some amazing and positive things, the douche bag is still making our country worse… and the lost lemmings are following him, Cardi B had a baby, and I hear Denmark is one of the world’s happiest countries.
      • I’ve still got four chickens… I mean… after starting this new life with five… but LIL’ BITCH IS STILL AROUND! She’s my favorite (shh, don’t tell the others).
      • Kateri’s cell phone hasn’t been in service for 122 days.  I kinda wanna drive it twelve minutes down the road and hear all the noises it’s gonna make.
      • Although I haven’t been in touch with many people, I’ve got some pretty amazing friends in my life that I’m excited to catch up with.
      • I don’t really like looking at older couples.  Even though I have no idea what their story is… they could’ve just met… but the movie in my head has more of a Hallmark feel and it kinda depresses me.  I’m flying to Boise this weekend to be with my parents as they celebrate 50 years and though I’m so happy for them (they’ve definitely put the work in!),  I know I will never have that.  The fact that I waited so long to ask for Kateri’s hand in marriage means it would’ve been quite the feat to make it to 50 anyways… we would be in our mid/late 80’s…  but it’s kinda poopy to take those “growing old together” type thoughts off the table.
      • All… ALL! of Kateri’s plants are still alive.  Usually, it’s when I notice the dirt is so dry that it’s pulling away from the pot that I figure I should add some water.
      • I’ve hung out on the green in Fairlee and listened to some live music with some pretty cool people.  I’ve met more neighbors in the last four months than the last two and a half years. I still wave to everyone that drives past my house.  I’ve even had multiple people stop… back up… and pull into my driveway to inquire about someone, something, or just because they thought introductions were in order.
      • It’s still hard for me to put myself to bed. I average probably five… five and a half hours a school night…. and not because I’m doing anything important or exciting.  It’s just hard for me to call it a day, but I’m going to now.

      Widower Day 122… Yes, there have been many a tear in those 122 days, but there has also been good conversations, smiles, and laughter.  Those are the things that help add a smidge of excitement when I look to the time that is ahead of me… to my future. (I’m pretty sure smiles help break down big piles of shit)

       

       

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      Posted in cancer, inspirational, loss, Uncategorized, widower | 8 Comments | Tagged cancer, grief, grieving, loss, melanoma, mourning, thepits, widower, widower thoughts
    • Wow… that took a while.

      Posted at 12:05 am by Darren Lidstrom, on August 21, 2018

      IMG_3142Note to self… it takes about an hour and a half to upload a three minute and fifty-eight second video to this little blog when at home.  I have no idea why it takes so long.  This isn’t even the first time I’ve tried to post one. This is just my first moment of success in getting moving pictures from one box to another and onto my blog! (I’m blaming it on the old, slow, and outdated internet wires n stuff attaching my house to other wires that go other places)

      Basically, I haven’t done anything on here for a bit because I have been so focused on getting the bathroom done. Of course, I’ve taken the last couple of days off from that.  It’s gotten to an acceptable point for the time being.  I could use it, just depends on if I want the shower system to work how it was designed to work… or how I currently have it set up… where I would plan to never touch it in fear of  it developing cool “side jets” that would shoot out of each of the seams where the pipes/shower head arm thing/faucet/other sprayer thing/etc. are connected… which may or may not form a straight line… it needs some attention.

      So, here’s a little about Widower Day…. just under four months. (and I don’t know how to make the video smaller… ya)

       

      Widower Day… just under four months.

      Widower Day… just under four months.

       

       

       

       

       

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      Posted in cancer, inspirational, loss, videos, widower | 1 Comment | Tagged bathroom remodel, cancer, grief, grieving, loss, melanoma, mourning, videos, widower, widower thoughts
    • The 101.

      Posted at 11:11 pm by Darren Lidstrom, on August 15, 2018

      (Uummm….. sooo, I started these thoughts… and then worked on a bathroom for a week and a half or some crap.)

      Ya… it’s a road.  Might be a couple of them out there, but I’m actually referencing what “Widower Day” it is and I thought it sounded a helluva lot cooler and heckuva lot less sad and dramatic. I read through my last bloggery post and… well… it just didn’t jive with me tonight. It didn’t sound like me… to me… which is weird… because I wrote it, but I guess that is part of the whole experience.

      As I am “rolling with it”, there have been more than a few new things in my life. It comes with the territory.  There’s a whole lot of doing the same things you have always done… except they’re different and new.  Thirtydaysofmo(r)ning is something new for me, everything about it. Yes, I’m on my phone more than I would like to admit, but we/I haven’t had a computer for years.  I’m one of those people who is absolutely amazed by the power of the interweb, but when it’s in front of me… I’m basically a monkey staring at bright lights hitting the button that gives me craigslist because I understand pictures, basic writing, and numbers… without letters attached to them. So, as I figure out how websites, blogsites, sharing, publishing, editing, widgets, tags, post format (whatever the fuck that means)… I’m also learning about how I want to use it. I know I don’t want it to be all melancholy stuff, because I ain’t all melancholy all the time.  I’m fine with sharing whatever with the world, but doing that through writing is quite the exercise.  So then you start thinking about talking into a phone or computer screen and posting a video here and there to see if that is something you want to be a part of the site… have a little video corner… and then figure out how to make a little video corner.

      I guess there’s always a little excitement at the start of things no matter what those things are. From the start on… whatever it is… it changes. Sometimes you write about death and cancer and sadness and stuff… other times, it’s just a bit about your day like the fact that you woke up at 6:00am to the first of four alarms set on your iPod touch from 2011.  Yes, four alarms… with snooze… because I need to hear four harps, two ducks, and an old car horn before I can get up and out of bed.  I don’t even plan to get up at six in the morning.  I get out of bed at 6:30… I have just been digging the slow, laze in bed, half awake, half asleep with moments of body spasms and flips to turn off 97 decibles of harps, ducks, and old car horns.

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      Posted in cancer, inspirational, loss, Uncategorized, widower | 0 Comments | Tagged cancer, grief, grieving, loss, melanoma, mourning, widower
    • Vibrations Filling the Silence

      Posted at 8:16 pm by Darren Lidstrom, on August 1, 2018

      IMG_0339Music has always been a prevelant thing in our life.  Whether it be Kateri putting on the B-52’s for cleaning music, some Steely Dan on a rainy day (who I never cared for up till the last 5 years, I would say), or some classic 90’s gangster rap in the kitchen as we were using tilt skillets for fryers or getting out stations ready for service.  I will forever associate Warren G’s “Regulate” remix featuring Michael McDonald with our time at The Barn Door.  If you haven’t come home to a message on the machine from Luke and Will after they held their phones up to the speakers that were perched on top of the ice machine, so as to capture that classic tune off of Pandora, because that was their top priority at the moment and not the pounds of lima beans that needed to get shucked or the natural disaster that just happened in the dish pit… well, you don’t know friendship.

      I haven’t been able to sit, walk, drive, exist in silence for any length of time since the passing of Kateri.  The mind starts to wander and when you can’t get past the cancer times, when you can’t get past that crushing feeling of “unfairness” for that person you held above everyone else… silence isn’t always the best thing for ya.  My thoughts always take me back to specific moments within this experience.  First to our last words to each other while Kateri was in Palliative Care where she told me, “I love you.” in that hoarse, weak voice, eyes struggling to open but fixed on me and I responded with the only thing I could… “I love you too, so much.” The second memory that has been somewhat consuming is when we had to go back to the ER in February two days after being discharged from when her colon gave out.  We were in one of the ER rooms, Kateri wrapped in hospital blankets, the lights dim because they hurt her head, and as the Doc was trying to get her some relief she looked at him and said, “I don’t want to die”… and started crying. Living a life where those two thoughts pop in your head over and over again, hours and days on end, makes it hard to focus on other things like cleaning the house, work, mowing the lawn, feeding yourself, feeding your chickens, watering plants… your future… or the past 20 years. So for me, I  need vibrations to hit my head with the hope of drowning out some of the pain… or at least to push it off to another time when I can deal with it, to spread out the discomfort as much as possible, to try and “regulate” it.  (I’m so sorry for the “regulate”  bit… cheesy, but gives me a chance to also mention that Nate Dogg’s sexy slide into verses just adds dimensions to the song.  Nate Dogg AND Michael McDonald… well, that’s what I think silk sounds like in heaven)

      I’ve been picking up the guitar much more lately.  Although I have had one in my life for the last couple of decades, I really haven’t played it much.  One of those start fooling around with it because you thought it was cool… and because you had friends that you found simply amazing on the instrument you thought anyone could just pick it up and make sounds that would entertain the ear.  Ya… it doesn’t happen that way.  It takes work.  And I’m one of those people who got to a certain point with the guitar and then became interested in so many other things that would take up time… some not so noble as making music, but still fun. Basically, I could play a couple (literally) of songs, wrote a few because it was easier than learning someone else’s, and I could slightly impress friends for about 12 minutes… 15 years ago.  Once in a while I would pull it off the wall and play a few things, Kateri would ask me to play “that one song that sounds middle eastern”, and it would go back up.  As of recently I have found myself turning to it almost every day for an escape from all the bullshit.  For hours I play the same six to eight songs that I have been playing for years. Songs that I never really tried to do anything with, never “worked” on my skills, never fully listened to the relationship my head and hands had with the guitar, the pick (I mainly use picks, sorry Brad), the strings, or the vibrations that would fill the air with sounds that kinda went together.

      Nowadays, I get lost in the experience. There are points I find myself almost hunched over the guitar trying to get my ear as close to the sound as possible… to have it be the one thing filling my space. It’s the closest I have come to what I believe would be meditating.  (People ask if I have tried meditating during this process, but I don’t have any real desire to “Om” it out right now so I’m gonna stick with the strings).  Sometimes I find myself playing the same two or three chords over and over again, slight changes to strum patterns, or beat, or intensity.  I try to be deliberate in my actions to make the sound that I want to hear, to make this or that a little different, or maybe even subjectively better.  I think the main reason I am trying to improve my playing is that I am tired of the stagnation, of the same old songs, of the same old tune.  Right now… I need more.  And whether I want it or not, I have the time and space to see what more I can do… even at 1:38a.m… because there isn’t anyone else around except chickens… and they don’t seem very interested in my music.

      Ya, so… music… it helps and you should have it in your life.  It could be studying an instrument at some fancy pants music school… or in your bedroom.  It could be seeing Gillian Welch in Hanover with your wife’s dermatologist or reggae on Coney Island with people who understand what “One Love” is all about.  Sometimes it’s blaring Today’s Hits with the windows down and sunroof open while driving through the green hills and valleys of Vermont. Other times it could be Lady Gaga being funneled out of your garage door while you wonder if your neighbors over yonder can hear it… but you don’t care if they do. And when you can be pleasantly surprised by revisiting a song or an album from another time and place in your life… it can be nostalgic, therapeutic, and beautiful.  For me currently,  that would be Uncle Tupelo.  Moonshiner is still one of my favorite songs ever… fucking depressing, but fantastic. (FYI-I’m on the Jay Farrar/Son Volt side… not the Tweedy/Wilco side).

      I feel fortunate that I am one of those people who enjoys it all… well, most of it. Just like in life, there is a fair amount of crap out there, too. Hopefully, we just find the right song at the right time to give us what we need.

      Widower Day 100.

       

       

       

       

       

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      Posted in cancer, inspirational, loss, music, Uncategorized, widower | 1 Comment | Tagged cancer, grief, grieving, loss, melanoma, mourning, music, widower
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    • Chicken and Lil’ Bitch
      Tracy’s Mad Hatter Retirement Party 2017
      Home

      An Evening Fire
      CHICKS!… 2016
      Coney Island 2018

      Tea Cups at Disneyland… a while ago.
      Yup.

    • These People Said This.

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