Read This

Just found this referenced on widownet.org. Check out www.abc.net.au and search for the health report on bereavement and grief on 14/01/2002. Very interesting interview that makes so much sense about grief. I'd love to hear your comments.

And This

Check out this lovely, heartwrenching article by Michelle Buchanan at www.womensvoicesforchange.org: Twelve Years Later: How Widowhood Really Feels.

Thoughts About a Quote

From www.inspirationpeak.com

"Sometimes it isn't what you do but what you don't do that makes you who you are." Author Unknown

This quote intrigued me, and I've been thinking about it all week. What is it that we don't do that defines us? Not the big things. None of us deliberately lie, cheat, or steal. I asked myself what I don't do and came up with a list:

1. I don't do outdoorsy stuff. I love nature but I'd love it more if it were indoors instead of outdoors.

2. I don't like large, noisy groups unless I have a specific purpose there; i.e., I'm the speaker for a group. Hence I feel uncomfortable at big parties where I don't know many people. I'm shy; however, I did meet my husband at a noisy party so I guess that makes me partly shy.

3. I don't watch much TV. I quit when I needed time for writing and now watch mainly news, sports, The Daily Show and Project Runway.

4. I don't drive on the highway because I get sleepy. Therefore I used to take the bus to visit my parents in Austin, began reading romance novels to pass the time, and became a romance novelist.

5. I don't do arts or crafts. I'm just not good at it. The only time I played hooky in elementary school was when the art teacher said the next day we had to draw something besides a house and a tree.

6. I don't cry. I used to cry over anything but I guess I used up all my tears when Ralph was ill and the first year after he died.

I'm not sure any of the above really define me but they are quirks that, perhaps, add up. I'm sure there's a bigger philosophical meaning here. Certainly it's food for thought.

Anyone care to comment? I'd love to hear what others think.

Quote for the Week

Expect to have hope rekindled.
Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways.
The dry seasons in life do not last.
The spring rain will come again.
Sarah Breauthnach, author of Simple Abundance

Going Solo in the Kitchen

I like to cook, and that hasn't changed during my four years of widowhood. Friends seem surprised when I say I've tried a new recipe. "You cook?" they say, the same way they might say, "You fly?" My standard answer is, "Of course, I cook. I eat, don't I?"

Cooking for one doesn't seem much different than cooking for two. You end up with leftovers and you can eat them the next night.

Here's a recipe I tried and liked because it's delicious and so quick:
Broiled Salmon with Mustard Dill Sauce (This is the whole recipe, but I usually cut it in half)
1 1/2 lb salmon
1 c. plain low-fat yogurt
2 T. Dijon mustard
1/2 t. dried dill weed
Place salmon on broiler and brush with sauce. Broil 8 to 10 minutes, brushing with more sauce as needed. Turn steaks over, brush other side with sauce, broil 8 more minutes or until fish flakes easily with fork.

I browsed "cooking for one" on Amazon and found a number of cookbooks. Most of the reviews rated them 3 stars. Personally, I prefer receipes from the newspaper or magazines so I don't have to invest in cookbooks that may only have a few dishes I like.

If you're really desperate, however, I came upon an article on Wikihow called "How to Survive without Cooking." Wouldn't work for me.

See you in seven In the meantime, if you'd like to post a favorite easy recipe, that would be great.

Quote for the Week

Wild Geese

By Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers,

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

TZ Does Dallas

Okay, this isn't as hot as Debbie Does Dallas--it's barely lukewarm--but it is the story of a wonderful weekend, one I really needed.

The last two weeks have been dismal. My computer crashed, my cat needed treatment at the vet's emergency room on a freezing Saturday night, I developed an upper respiratory infection and bronchitis and totally lost my voice--not good for a speech pathologist. I spent a week lying around, alternating between reading, watching TV and playing Hangman on my computer. When I went back to work, I was still exhausted and my voice would crack by the end of the day. I wasn't even sure I wanted to spend the weekend in Dallas, even though I'd planned on it for some time.

I took ear drops along, just in case. I took antihistamine, nasal spray, and the Robitussan-to-Go packets I'd seen advertised during my long days of watching TV. Alas, I discovered you need scissors to open the packets and of course you can't take scissors on a plane. But I actually began feeling better once I got to Dallas.

One thing I learned on this trip: It is possible to get lost even when you're using a GPS. The pleasant female voice that usually keeps me company was strangely silent when I needed her. Did I program something the wrong way? Was she just feeling ornery? Fortunately, I called my friend on my cell and she guided me the rest of the way. Take that, pleasant female voice.

The purpose of the weekend was visiting with old friends. One was a member of my writers' critique group in Houston. She moved to Dallas a few years ago, and we still critique by e-mail and phone. She is one of the most determined, courageous people I know. Despute her husband's sudden death a couple of years ago, she has approached life energetically. She has continued to write and submit despite rejections and is on the verge (fingers crossed) of selling her first book in 15 years. She has set new goals for herself and achieved them. Even though she became a widow after me, she's been a role model.

The second friend goes further back. She was a sorority sister of mine in college. She, too, moved from Houston to Dallas. We aren't in contact as much because she doesn't have a computer! I tell her if I can manage one, she can, too. But we do talk on the phone. She, too, has gone through some rough times, but she reads, exercises, plays bridge, spends time with grandchildren. She was an outstanding teacher at a private school I work with, and she brings that teacher mentality to everything she does. On Friday we met for lunch, then browsed through some stores, giggling the whole time about clothes we couldn't wear now...or maybe ever.

The third friend is from the ancient past: high school. Actually we met in middle school. I spent the night at her house Saturday and she invited some other Austin High alums for dinner. Of the four of us, two are widows, one divorced, one both widowed and divorced, and two still married to their first loves. As we reminisced and told stories of our present lives, I reallized no one is immune to tragedy. We've dealt with illnesses, disappointments, natural disasters (Hurricane Katrina, for one), worries about children and grandchildren, and yet every one of these women has persevered. One travels all over the world. This isn't her primary career, but she "likes to keep up with what's going on." She contributes to a travel publication and has advocated for gender equality at her university. Another was a flight attendant after college and returned to that career at age 60! Both her sons are pilots. Another, I learned, worked briefly after college for the CIA Okay, she was a clerk-typist, but still, how many people have the CIA on their resume? The fourth is a breast cancer survivor and the fifth has had knee and hip replacements and has recovered function through therapy and determination. I am so inspirated by these old friends. Maybe we've slowed a tiny bit, but we're all still going.

The most important thing I brought home from this weekend was the importance of friendship. Old friends, newer ones--doesn't matter. We have to cherish each other and the time we have together. So, to all of these amazing women, thanks for new and special memories.