Dispatches: March 2019

Sunday, March 31, 2019

3/31/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — 29 minutes ago

Family and friends have carried me through this year in the land of grief. Without them I don't know that I would have made it and, if I would have, certainly not as well. Their presence in my life fills me with gratitude as I realize how blessed I am.
One of the realities that comes with the loss of a spouse is a loss of standing. Likely the bereaved is no longer number one for anyone. For 55, years I was number one for Joanne as she was number one for me. Now I must live in that memory while recognizing that I no longer carry that status with anyone. That is a reality that creates loneliness for me even as I recognize and celebrate the love and support of a host of family and friends.
Please don't misunderstand. This changes nothing about my recent assertions that I have myself back. It is just the reality and the shape of the grief I carry in this land.

Blessings,

Al

Picture: The bouquet placed in church today in memory of Joanne.

Saturday, March 30, 2019

3/30/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — a minute ago

Tonight I attended a fund raising gala for a small non-profit agency. There was both a silent auction and a verbal one. One of the items on the silent auction was dance lessons at an Arthur Murray Dance Studio. In my mind that converged with Joanne's birthday, which is Monday, April 1. How do they connect?
For Joanne's 50th birthday, thirty three years ago, I signed us up for Arthur Murray Dance lessons. We were living in Davenport, IA. at the time. Almost every wedding reception included a dance. Joanne and I would sit on the sidelines and I knew Joanne was aching to dance. Thus, the decision to give that as a birthday gift. She was ecstatic and I started mainly out of a sense of obligation.
The initial sign-up was quite short, maybe three months, but we continued for two years. We'd come to the evening lessons tired from the days work but that was quickly left behind as we worked on our dance steps. Joanne, with her extensive musical background, always knew the beat and would gently help me find it with a little squeeze of the arm.
We were dancing at a wedding reception one night while after we began taking lessons and one of the guests present knew Joanne's father had written an article in opposition to dancing entitled That Dangerous Dance. As we left the dance floor this guest stopped Joanne and asked her "What would your father say if he saw you dancing?" Without missing a beat Joanne replied "O he's in heaven now and he's free from such opinions." The guest was speechless but his wife was delighted.

Blessings,

Al

Friday, March 29, 2019

3/30/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — a minute ago

So, have any of you readers out there in the blogsphere ever have the experience of Joanne finishing your sentence? In this experience of her prolonged absence the little annoyances that got under my skin seem so petty. Really, how serious was it that she neglected to re-fill the butter dish? Did it really matter that for fifty-five years she could know what I was going to say and say it before I could? Slow of thought and slow of speech I am, so she couldn't wait to keep the conversation going.
With a bit of time on my hands during spring break from school I've been sorting through her files, and there were many. Pausing to read one of her performance reviews...stellar of course...the evaluator concluded by saying "Her energy level is indicated by her tendency to complete my sentences." Yes, I laughed out loud...it wasn't only me that noticed but he seemed more bemused than annoyed.
One of her little pet peeves was when I failed to replace the toaster cover, which I've previously reported. Now, approaching the first anniversary of her death, I always replace that cover. Every time I do it, it is a little reminder of her and the act of replacing it is a small way to honor her memory. So, too, is keeping the condo tidy which I do for myself but it's also a little salute to her because I know she would be pleased.

Blessings,

Al

Thursday, March 28, 2019

3/28/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — 22 minutes ago

Ada was born with a clubfoot which went untreated as a child. Embarrassed by her daughter's deformity Ada's mother kept her confined to their one room flat in London. When school children were being evacuated from London in anticipation of German bombing early in WW II, Ada runs away to join the evacuation. When the train stops and children are allowed to use the toilet Ada goes to the sink to wash her hands and sees a dirty girl with unkempt hair staring at her across the sink. With a start she recognized herself, seen for the first time in a mirror. So writes Kemberely Brubaker Bradley in The War That Saved My Life. It's one of the books I'm reading with elementary students.
Today, when a friend reflected on her perception of me, I felt a bit like Ada, "O that's what I'm like now?" The refraction of my self-presentation led me to conclude that I feel more like myself than I have for a (?) year. As I told a friend "I feel like I have myself back."
From the initial decision Joanne made to enter hospice, through her last days and death I tried to face reality. Denial was tempting but I did my best to avoid that. Perhaps facing reality and allowing myself to experience the pain has helped to bring me to this point. Clearly I did not do it alone as family and friends have accompanied me every step of the way. Hope has returned and I'm grateful!

Blessings,

Al

Pictured some of the students who are reading The War That Saved My Life

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

3/27/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — 17 minutes ago

About the time Joanne died S gave me a little book Winter Grief, Summer Grace: Returning to Life After a Loved One Dies, James E. Miller. He writes:

"But something more is at work.
However much you decide to return,
you may also sense that a decision is being made for you,
and it comes from outside you.
New life is not just a choice you make--
it is an opportunity you are offered, a gift you are given.
It is not just something you do--it is something you accept.
It is not something you force--it is something you trust.
And in trusting you encourage your healing.
For the God of all creation,
the Maker of each changing season in nature,
is also the Guide through each changing season of your grief.
What is happening to you is not mere happenstance.
Something larger than you is at work within you.
Someone wiser than you has a word to speak,
and that word is
Yes." p. 43

I agree!

Blessings,

Al

Tuesday, March 26, 2019

3/26/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — 25 minutes ago

In the early days of life in the land of grief I found the book by C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed very helpful. Winter Grief, Summer Grace by James E. Miller was also a comfort. Now I'm finding A Journey Of Grief, Gratitude and Grace by Ruth I. Halvorson full of wisdom. Published in response to the life and death of her husband, Loren Halvorson, it contains a complete Caring Bridge Journal, Ruth's reflections and other material.
She writes:
"I want to live life fully now, and I know Loren would want that. It is up to me to participate as completely as I can in creating an ongoing, meaningful life. I have already experienced many unexpected surprises in the unfolding of this new journey. Connections have been made, invitations have come, and serendipitous encounters have happened, opening up surprising possibilities and opportunities. Yes, there are times of aching loneliness and emptiness--I expect that and must accept that, but I know now it is possible to create something new, something that can spring from the darkness of grief. Yes, new life is emerging. I remain open to the fresh winds of the spirit blowing in my life, continually birthing new possibilities and new life even in the midst of loss and grief--a great paradox." p. 70
Thanks, Ruth, for saying so well what I am experiencing and in so doing validating it for me. This new life emerges even as I ache in the absence of Joanne. Or as Jonathan Swift said "May you live all the days of your life."

Blessings,

Al

Monday, March 25, 2019

3/25/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — a minute ago

After living for the better part of a year in the land of grief there is a difference now. Today, when asked by a friend if it get's easier, I quickly replied, "Yes, it does." When I reflect on my situation shortly after Joanne's death and compare it to today there is a marked change. Those first days, weeks, months were marked by terrible raw grief. The pain was constant and palpable. Sometimes it seemed more than could be endured. Tears were ever close to the surface.
Now there is an equilibrium, with the pain of grief like a dull ache. Occasionally something will strike the bruise and then pain shoots through my psyche. The grief triggers are usually surprising, a thought, memory, item, event, song...become the factor that brings the reality of my loss crashing into my consciousness. Yet, I am usually at peace.
Blessed with persons who have stayed close beside me as I walk this new land I have much for which to be grateful. Abandonment has not been my experience but rather the opposite, family and friends have rallied around me from the beginning and continue to this day. It is in relationships that I find hope. Thank you to one and all for staying with me!

Blessings,

Al

Sunday, March 24, 2019

3/24/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — 18 minutes ago

There are a number of "shy" readers of this blog who never post comments on it. Instead they send me emails...sort of a "for your eyes only" kind of message. One of those emails said in effect "Because of the blog Joanne has been much on my mind this year." That warmed my heart. If the blog has done nothing else than keep Joanne's memory more alive I'm satisfied.
Every person is remarkable in his or her own way. Joanne certainly was and lived in a way that touched many lives. Keeping the memories of her alive is a wonderful thing and I'm pleased to have a role in it.
After my post about visiting the cemetery in the snow D sent me this poem.

Graveyard in The Snow
Martina E. Elenbaas

"Today, I cannot find your grave,
because the stone with your name
is set in the earth,
down, where it is not in the way,
when the caretakers mow the grass,
now you are covered with snow.

"Everything is white,
so full of peace, so still,
I sit on the bench,
it is so cold, but
I feel close to you,
after all you are cold,
under the earth,
under this white sheet,
hidden, but there, I know.

"Only a raven,
shiny in funeral coat of feathers,
black against the white,
sits with me, in a tree,
not far, insistently cawing,
a warning, an emphatic word
of solace."

Blessings,

Al

Saturday, March 23, 2019

3/23/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — a minute ago

Ironic isn't it that Joanne, the ultimate doer, should be remembered by two chairs. When we were dating I was concerned about her fatigue...working too hard with inadequate rest. She was head resident of a co-ed dorm, instructor in psychology and Augustana's first director of student activities. Naturally I was not successful in getting her to slow down and that was the story of our marriage throughout her working life. For example when she was working at Lutheran Social Services, MN., she'd drive from our home in suburban Minneapolis to Moorhead, MN., 4 hours?, work until 5:00 pm and drive home. Yes, that's the way she worked.
When she retired in her early 70s she had a personality transplant. Especially in her last years she could sleep in, sometimes as late as 10:00 am. It was during these years that her recliners became a place of refuge. After one of her seven back surgeries we went to a furniture store to buy her first Lazyboy Recliner. She was still wearing a back brace after surgery when we visited the store. She settled into chair on the showroom floor and she awoke to me saying to the clerk "I guess I better pay for this one." When she was phoned the next day to evaluate our experience at the store she told about falling asleep in the chair at the store and suggested they use her experience in her advertising.
The second chair just sort of happened. There was an estate auction near The Little House on the Prairie. Thinking I might find a tool or maybe a kitchen stove for The Little House I got a bidding number. The stove was too expensive as was the anvil. The auctioneer was moving quickly down the household items and came to a Lazyboy Recliner which looked brand new. He started the bidding at $20.00, I raised my hand and that was the only bid. Now Joanne had twin recliners, one in the condo and one in The Little House. (Oh, yes, I also bought a tractor on the sale but that's another story.)
Yes, it's deeply ironic that this woman with a lifetime of accomplishments is now being remembered via two chairs. They did make her last years much more comfortable with her back pains and chronic cough. Now for me they are a reminder of the presence of absence in my land of grief.

Blessings,

Al

Chair one, The Little House; Chair two in the condo.

Friday, March 22, 2019

3/22/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — a minute ago

The only sounds were the honking of geese from the endless flocks overhead. The sun was bright and there were no tracks, neither human nor mechanical disturbing the snow. Big drifts were piled behind the evergreens blown up by powerful prairie winds. Standing still in my tracks I was held by the immutable reality that Joanne lies where we left her last April, now for a whole summer, fall and winter with all but the marker covered by snow.
Strange thoughts filled my mind. Did grandma visit grandpa's grave? Frequently? Did my father spend time there, remembering? Who will wander by and try to make sense of the relationship between grandparents and grandson after I'm buried? Why was it important to Joanne to be buried here? Why didn't I ask her? How can it be almost a year since she died?

Blessings,

Al

The pictures speak for themselves.

Thursday, March 21, 2019

3/21/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — 22 minutes ago

WOW! Snow and water, snow and water...that was the scene all the way from Minneapolis to The Little House on the Prairie. This winter was similar to that of '68-69. My dad died in March of '69 and I remember flying home for the funeral via North Central Airlines and seeing all the snow. Joanne entered the hospital in Mohall, N.D., April 9, to give birth to L. The snow had not yet begun to melt but then the temperature suddenly soared into the 70s and when she was discharged 5, days later the snow was gone and so were most of the bridges in the county. Fortunately the thaw has not been so rapid this year.
When I arrived at the Little House today I had to shovel my way in. I was last here the first week of January. All is in order; the furnace works, as does the sump pump so no frozen pipes nor water in the basement. Joanne's chair, the twin to the recliner in the condo, the one which I purchased for $20.00 on a farm sale, sits empty reminding me of the presence of absence.
Joanne loved coming to S.D., the Little House, time with family, reading in her chair... Perhaps those are some of the reasons that she wanted to be buried here. Tomorrow I'll see if I can get through the snow to her grave.

Blessings,

Al

Pictured is the Little House in the snow.

Wednesday, March 20, 2019

3/20/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — 17 minutes ago

On this day, one year ago, Joanne took her final car ride. Readers know that she asked for one thing on that ride "Drive by the church." What do you suppose she was thinking? She knew she was going home to die, we thought in 2-3 months, not in 23 days. Offered car rides those first few days at home she always declined, she had no interest. Her interest was relationships. She thrived on the visits, calls, letters, cards, emails, Caring Bridge posts, choir visits.... She either read or listened to every card, letter and message until the night before she died, that evening she tired before I finished reading them to her. That should have been a clue to me and perhaps it was but the rapidity of her death caught us by surprise. At 6:00 we conversed and at 9:15 she died.
A year...it's been forever and the time has flown.
God bless the memory of Her servant, Joanne Elizabeth (Hanson) Negstad.

Blessings,

Al

Tuesday, March 19, 2019

3/19/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — 18 minutes ago

Some dates are frozen in my memory; Joanne's birthday, the day she died, but others not so much. This is approximately the anniversary of Joanne's entrance into hospice care. She died April 12, and was in hospice for 23 days, so........
Most often my memory of that time is of her presiding from her recliner. If I focus I can recall the trauma of caring for her toward the time she died. But, it's those days that were spent mostly in her chair that usually come to mind. The hospital bed, oxygen machine and other hospice equipment were quickly removed after her death and the condo returned to it's usual configuration. Her chair sits unused, not that avoid it for any emotional reasons, it just doesn't fit me. The prayer bear from N.D., sits in it with an African scarf, presented to her during her virtual trip to Africa, draped over the back. Occasionally I'll sit in the rocker next to her chair if I use "her" TV. The presence of absence is most pronounced in her chair.
As I work through her file cabinets memories flow and questions abound. There are so many questions I'd like to ask about so much.

Blessings,

Al

Monday, March 18, 2019

3/18/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — 15 minutes ago

"It's all about me of course!" Well, no, not really but yesterday I fell into the trap of thinking of myself when I was writing the blog. When I wrote 'responsibility for a living a healthy lifestyle rests with us' I was assuming life from the privileged position I occupy. Exercising and eating a healthy diet, at least trying, are easy for me. That was a very shallow perspective and not well thought out.
Here is a much deeper response to that facile statement.

"...- we’ve done a lot of work in ISAIAH over the past several years helping to challenge exactly the logic underlying this statement:

Responsibility for living a healthy lifestyle rests with us.

"This makes health into an individual responsibility when really we know so much of what creates health or illness is related to the social determinants of health — things like what circumstances you were born into (economic, racial, social etc), what opportunities you have open to you, and investments that are made in you (or conversely, barriers put in front of you) by the community and society you live in.

"This is a hugely important point as the narrative logic underlying these beliefs are used to justify policy and investment decisions that have far reaching impacts - I hope you’ll meditate on and address it in a future post." signed L

Yes, meditate on it I will, and here, in your own words is a helpful reflection and caution. Thank you!
It also serves as a reminder of how blessed I am.

Blessings,

Al

Sunday, March 17, 2019

3/17/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — 24 minutes ago

Readers of this blog may remember that in response to the quote from Abraham Heshcel, "Old age is not a defeat but a victory, not a punishment but a privilege" in Martinson's book, Elders Rising, I wondered if Heschel's assertion was universally true. It is my perception of my life, i.e. that age is a gift, but today I asked Martinson if it was true of all of the 53 persons he interviewed in writing the book. He said "No, there were 4, persons of the 53, who would disagree."
The difference was not in economic or physical constraints. One of the happiest persons he interviewed had spent much of his life homeless. Most of the interviewees over age 75, were dealing with significant challenges to their health. Many of them turned those challenges into opportunities for growth. The unhappy elderly were the ones who felt sorry for themselves, in my words, those who saw themselves as victims.
Martinson said three factors influence longevity. The three are genetics, self-care and meaningful relationships. Obviously the first is out of our control, simply the luck of the draw. Responsibility for living a healthy lifestyle rests with us. The choices we make can also be instrumental in forming and maintaining healthy relationships.
For anyone who wants to think about creative aging, I highly recommend the book. My response to the discussion is a powerful feeling of gratitude for all my blessings including the gift of elderhood.

Blessings,

Al

Saturday, March 16, 2019

3/16/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — 25 minutes ago

From 1928, until 1941, eleven cousins were born, joining six older cousins, children of my mother and her siblings. The oldest of these cousins had her own family of six children, the oldest of whom was Wesley born in 1937, and therefore older than some of the first cousins. We grew up together and old photographs show the clan gathered at one of the parental farms. My father is never in the picture because he had the camera.
When Joanne joined the family she found the cousin connection fascinating because her family was smaller and more scattered. However, she was a childhood friend of L, one of the cousins who had often talked about her relatives. The family, descendants of my grandparents, Olai & Minnie Bergh, still gather for a family reunion every two years. Typically there are about 80 persons in attendance.
Wesley died yesterday. As youngsters at family events he would pair up with my older brother and I with Wesley's younger brother, the late Ronald, who was just a month younger than I. Wesley was a story teller and at the family reunions he was always at the center of a group regaling them with stories from his youth.
Is old age a gift? My experience says "yes", but there certainly is much loss and grief with the passage of time. May God bless the memory of my cousin Wesley.

Blessings,

Al

Friday, March 15, 2019

3/15/2019 Caring Bridge

Journal entry by Al Negstad — 27 minutes ago

Today's paper had a long article on flooded basements in the metro area. It's not only here that water is flooding basements. My brother lives several miles from town in the South Dakota countryside. He and his wife returned from Lenten services to find water entering their basement through a window well. Vacuuming late into the night they finally gave up and went to bed. The next morning thinking that perhaps the volunteer fire department might have sandbags they called the local bank to ask the banker, a volunteer fire fighter, about sandbags. He said he was sorry but he'd never seen any but he'd be happy to come and help, but my brother declined the offer. Before long two bankers showed up to help. At this time my sister-in-law was having questions about her telephone and called a neighbor to see if the phone was working. She told of their water problems. Not long after she hung up the neighbor's son appeared with a tractor and loader to move the snow away from the house.
It reminded me of a conversation I once had with that banker. We were visiting as we waited for a community auction to begin. Spotting a small motorcycle for sale I remarked to the banker that perhaps I should buy it, put hanger on my tractor, then if I had mechanical problems in the field I'd have a way to get back to my garage in town. The banker said "Oh, just call the bank and we'll come and get you." 😁 When I reported this conversation to my brother he said "Or you could call the grain elevator and they'd send someone for you." Now I have the telephone numbers of the bank and the elevator in my phone."
Because I have house in town I get a mailbox in the local post office. Visiting with the postmistress before I was to be gone a length of time I wondered about filling out a "temporarily away" form. She thought a minute and then said "Don't bother, if you get anything that looks important I'll tell your brother."
This is the community where Joanne rests.

Blessings,

Al

Pictures: Joanne's marker and the cemetery.