Denizen of the cemetery!

    Tom is at it again and, as he sent me the quote below, he said "Let me guess, it will show up on your blog."  Right you are, Tom, because you send such good material. Thanks!

from City of Girls by Elizabeth Gilbert: 

"This is what I've found about life, as I've gotten older: you start to lose people.... It's not that there is ever a shortage of people - oh, heavens, no.  It is merely that - as the years pass - there comes to be a terrible shortage of your people.  The ones you loved.  The ones who knew the people that you both loved.  The ones who know your whole history."  

    Right on, Elizabeth!  " there comes to be a terrible shortage of your people.  The ones you loved.  The ones who knew the people that you both loved.  The ones who know your whole history."  

     Readers of this blog may recall how I've reflected on the grief of lost history in bereavement. With Mary Hatlestad's death as an example; I'm not aware of any others who were on the staff at First Lutheran, Sioux Falls, simultaneous with us. So now there is no one with whom I can reminisce about those days and who can respond to my memories in a knowledgeable way.  

     Every time I come to The Little House I visit Joanne's grave. Often I do not stop there but wander among the graves remembering many others whom I knew, I a denizen of the cemetery.  Admittedly my high school graduating class was tiny, eight of us, but half have died. One of my classmates, now dead, shared 12 years of school with me.

     One of my first Christmas cards, with a picture, was from Tillie, age 106. She was making snow angels when she was 100! Think of all loved ones she's lost? Fortunately her two children survive.  "...there comes to be a terrible shortage of your people."  Yes there does, so let us cherish with new appreciation those who are still with us.

Takk for alt,

Al

"The spirit is willing but the........"

     Let me guess where your mind went with the title of this blog "The spirit is willing but the flesh weak." Nope, that is NOT where this is going.  After the funeral yesterday Lisa and I drove to The Little House On The Prairie. There's not a lot of snow here but it's come over several different
times. Between the snows the weather has warmed to the melting point, putting a crust on the snow which lies just below the most recent fall. Consequently, every step requires pressing through the crust, and, though the snow's not deep, it makes walking challenging.
    Lisa and I plunged into the first field full of vim, vigor and vitality. Though we admired the beautiful stand of big bluestem grass, the growth of the cedars in the tree rows and the weedy food plot, we were happy to return to the truck with our pheasant. Revived by a short drive to another field we were seduced by the benign appearance of the pretty snow lying next to the cattails. After busting toward the middle of the field I was forced to admit "The spirit is willing but the legs are weak."  Big learning; don't judge the difficulty of a walk from the confines of a truck.
   What was our reward? Beautiful winter scenery on a snow covered frosty morning, good exercise, the view of multiple birds making their escape, several deer including a spike buck, one bird in the bag, time together and hearty appetites.

Takk for alt,

Al

At Mary's funeral: Sam Hatlestad, Al, Kent Stillson & Don Gaarder.

With Trygve,

Mary Hatlestad, March 21, 1934--December 7, 2019

,   Sitting down next to Arley Fadness at the lunch after Mary's funeral I said "Do you know Al Negstad? I hear he's here." Arley said "Yes, I do, who are you? I said "Al Negstad." That's when he hit me, before we had a good chat.
    The funeral, huge for, an eighty-five year old, was ably conducted by a pastor,  Kent Stillson, I've known since he was a camp counselor at Camp Metigoshe about 30 years ago. Seated next to Bishop Norm Eitriem, whom I've known since 1965, we compared notes on life after the death of a spouse. Doris Rye, was there with her husband, Pastor Kermit. It was Doris who decided not to go to Holden Village with the young adult group in 1963, whose place Joanne took. She likes to claim credit, rightly, for bringing Joanne and I together. During the lunch Kent asked me it I knew the congregation's community coordinator, Twila?  "Yes, " I said, "She's my cousins granddaughter."  And...so it went.
      Sam, Mary's spouse served 6 Lutheran Parishes in South Dakota and as interim pastor in many more after his retirement. It was apparent that Mary and Sam are remembered by those congregations with deep love and respect. Mary is buried at  the Toronto Cemetery, Toronto, S.D., near her childhood home. Now Sam, too. dwells in the land of grief.
     All of these people were known by Joanne as they all knew her. In addition to the grief of Mary's death it's times like this when the presence of absence is acute. At least I wish I could report who I saw and the conversations.

Takk for alt,

Al

Integrity and creativity

Elisa Zwier,  writes in an Advent devotional.

"In my “one step forward, two steps back” movement between fear and hope, I find the work of Episcopal priest Rev. Alla Renée Bozarth (1994) insightful:

'“Being able to fully face the reality of your loss depends on the balance between personal integrity and creativity. Integrity looks at something and says, what is, is. Creativity looks at something and asks, what new thing can come from this?”'

    Tom, was kind enough to forward this (above) to me. 

"Integrity looks at something and says, what is, is. Creativity looks at something and asks, what new thing can come from this?”

   INTEGRITY:  From the time Joanne was in hospice, through her death and after I have tried to live in the reality, painful as it was and is. "...what is, is...." Of course I didn't like it, nor do I still but denial just did not seem an option. This decision has served me well and has aided my recovery abd was very conscious.

   CREATIVITY:  Now, about 20th months into life in the land of grief, I can recognize creativity. It came as a response to my perceived need. There was no moment when I thought  "Oh, now I must be creative. "  It was more a matter of "Now,what do I do?" When I perceived a need and.acted it was creative and energized by the recognition of a new reality.
     Joanne was famous for staying in touch with family and friends. It was a very significant factor in who she was. Testimony to this character of hers was the out pouring of affirmation that she received in her last days,
    In contrast, I was never particularly good at staying connected. Even with family and friends I'd frequently withdraw to my inner self. When Joanne died I decided that she had been correct all along, that staying in touch was valuable. Additionally, she was no longer available to do the connecting nor as a verbal, relational partner for me.
    Since her death I have worked hard at being present and at staying in touch. Joanne would likely be surprised and certainly pleased in this change, which could be labeled 'creative.' It was made meaningful because my family and friends are so worth the investment.  Life is good!

Takk for alt,

Al

Erroneous impression?

    The Caring Bridge phase of my blog began with Joanne's illness and continued to her death and is still happening. Consequently, I've focused heavily on grief, my own, others and reactions to grief. Now, about 20 month's after Joanne's death I continue to live in the land of grief, however, that life is very different than it was earlier in the journey. Seldom, now, am I brought to tears. While I miss Joanne it's more of an ache rather than stabbing pain.
    Today a friend said that the impression of my situation gained from the blog is in contrast to the way I come across in person. Reading my blog gives the impression of me as more melancholy than I'm experienced in person. This leads me to wonder if I've inadvertently given an erroneous impression of my situation.
    While life divided at Joanne's death, today I'm mostly happy, serene and fully engaged with life. Every day I think of her and one of the gifts of remaining in "our" condo is that it is filled with reminders of her. For example every time I use the toaster I think of her as I replace the cover...leaving it off was one of her pet peeves.  If this blog has given a false impression of my well being I'm sorry.
   So, life is good, the sorrow is in her missing it and  us sharing it.


Takk for alt,

Al

Grief everywhere...in the press.

   With my new(er) sensitivity I find grief everywhere...in the press, Friends pass their copies of The Reader's Digest to me.  Opening the December/January issue I found this article:
   "How to Help a Friend Grieve: as a psychotherapist, she thought she knew all the tools for dealing with loss. Then her partner died."   The article goes on to report how poorly prepared she was for his death, drowning at age 40, and how unhelpful many responses were to her. PP. 26-29. The author Megan Devine writes, "It's not that people around us meant to be cruel; they just didn't know how to be truly helpful. Like many grieving people, we stopped talking about our pain to friends and family. It was easier to pretend everything was fine than continually defend and explain grief to those who couldn't understand."
 
    It's a good article and I'm pleased to see it in Reader's Digest where it will receive wide exposure. Personally, my response to it is one of gratitude. Family and friends have been helpful to me and very little has been said or done that is downright helpful. If I could wish for one thing it would be even more spontaneous references to Joanne. Usually when someone does mention her I learn something new about her. 

    The family was present Saturday to help me decorate for Christmas, the second year of this new tradition. For the first time since 1964 I will not participate in sending a Christmas letter to family and friends. However, I am certainly grateful when I receive them.

Takk for alt,

Al
   

"If you love, you grieve..."

    Naturally I noticed this heading '"If you love, you grieve,'Lynch says, "and there are no exceptions.'" in the  BOOKS, Section  P.E11, of  December 8, 2019, Star Tribune.  Kevin Canfield reviews a new book by Thomas Lynch, The Depositions. Lynch is a funeral director who has written several books. Lynch wrote "Mourning is a romance in reverse, and if you love, you grieve and there is no exceptions."
    Matthew 5:4 "Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted."  "Grief is the human emotion that comes with loss, and mourning is the expression of that loss, i.e., those who express their grief shall be comforted" so said my spiritual director when we last met.
   "Mourning is romance in reverse"  "mourning is the expression of that loss" are ideas that bear serious reflection.
   
    In the summer of 1963 I made a housing transition from one basement apartment to another. Leaving the basement of Victor and Emma Halvorson's building, I moved into an apartment in First Lutheran Church, Sioux Falls. First Lutheran is a large downtown church and for my senior year of college I was resident  night watchman and assistant custodian which made me a colleague of Mary Hatlestad, nee Quam. Mary was parish secretary.  In 1964 Mary married Sam Hatlestad about a month before Joanne and I married. We remained in touch through the years though did not have much time together.
    When Joanne died Sam made a special point of befriending me. Sometimes the bereaved are ghosted, i.e., abandoned. Sam in an example of my experience of the opposite, friends who have "taken me under their wing" in my grief.  If Sam was present to his parishioners as he has been to me he was an excellent pastor.  With Mary's death yesterday it is my turn to care for him.

Takk for alt,

Al