Stretching My Wings

What do you think of when I mention the word YOGA? Do images of people twisting themselves into impossible poses come to mind? Is it something that you always wanted to try, but felt intimidated by what you've seen?
For my father's generation, it represented something from Asia. After battling the Japanese in World War 2, folks of his age wanted nothing to do with it and saw it as a mild form of takeover of their country. Although many poses resembled stretching exercises practiced in the US military.

Recently, I've run across a few people that have tried to tell me that their doctor won't let them do yoga. And I think, "Really, your doctor doesn't want you to stretch your muscles and move your body?" I grew up in a chiropractic household. With both of my parents doctors of the alternative medicine, I've been exposed to a different reality than most. But even still, treatments revolved around manipulations to rectify a situation and not so much prevention.

My last few post have indicated that I am experiencing a change in my life with the loss of my parents and transition of my work. I've at times painted a bleak picture that would have me hiding in a dark corner not wanting to deal with the world. That is not the case at all though. I have been experiencing a whole new life. A life that has existed all around me all along. An alternate universe, if you will. Coexisting with my own, just outside of my vision.
Let me tell you about growing up inside my body. To compliment the fact that I did not seem to fit in with my surroundings being gay in a Pentecostal world of the 70's, I've dealt with allergies and asthma all my life. If I was interested in a sport, my poor breathing habits usually nixed the idea of participation before it grew very much.  Even shoveling snow or walking in cold weather could knock me out cold. As I aged, I stayed away from many places that others gravitate to simply because of people smoking there. I've always felt like an outsider, not welcome anywhere.

A few years ago, I was introduced to yoga. It, like many other things in my life, was interesting to me. But it was not love at first stretch! Like many people, I tried to push myself to be somewhat of an expert to fast and too soon. In a class setting, I pushed myself to be just like the instructor. I did not want to be that awkward guy in the room. I did enjoy one instructor that has Multiple Sclerosis and found her teachings to be very down to earth. She said, "Sometimes, I fall over. Deal with it."

I recently decided to start practicing at home. At home I could mess up, fall over and make a fool of myself all I wanted to. But more importantly, I could take it at my own pace. Now, every instructor will tell you to do this. But when the peer pressure is there, I push myself. I found a instructional video that I connected with and haven't looked back.

What it has done for me has been life changing. For starters, I've learned to control my breathing. This winters extreme amounts of snow would have been enough to kill me in the past. But instead, I've enjoyed shoveling, as much as a person can enjoy such a thing. And although smoking is still offensive, I've learned to cope with it around me. I've worked on my posture, which has been an area that has needed work most of my life. I feel less pain associated with everyday life. I have been toning and strengthening my entire body, trimming inches off my waste and allowing me to do a few push-ups for the first time in my life. I've lost around ten pounds, have better digestion and actually enjoy eating healthy meals. I have almost eliminated my daily headaches and find the tension in my back is completely gone. I look forward to every day and the challenges that it brings. I enjoy the sunlight streaming in my windows. When I am practicing my yoga, the bitter cold outside melts away and life is beautiful. I can't imagine my life without it now.

Anyone looking to feel better, I would recommend finding a routine that works for you. I know from my parents senior community that they offer programs for the elderly and even wheelchair bound. For now, I am sticking with the Intro to Yoga for Beginners program. I will stay with it until I feel that I am ready to move on. I've already purchased more programs and look forward to them. But I am in no way going to push myself to get there. I will also rejoin the class setting when I am ready.

So to those that have worried about my health in this time of transition, there is nothing to worry about. I am feeling and doing much better. And feel that soon, I will be back to the Brighter Side more regularly.

Namaste.

Nobody said this would be easy

Death is never easy. We've all heard that before. It not only brings a life to an end but it changes those that have been left to live on.

Since I work in the funeral business, you'd think I would be used to death. But daily, I see people's lives changed forever. It can be difficult to watch as families and friends cope with their loss. At the time of death, there is so much to take care of that it is difficult to grieve in a healthy way. Whatever traditions your family may have, must be adhered to. Wishes are met with the best of our ability. On our side of the table, there are forms to be filled out and filed, caskets to be ordered and a multitude of people to coordinate. Obituaries have to be written and emailed to the newspapers and information needs to be uploaded to websites. I am so fortunate to work with several of the industries finest. We make it all happen with no effort from the families at all.

When a death occurs, there seems to be a plethora of help surrounding you. Friends and family appear out of nowhere. They all want to help, and they do.

It's was May of 2011 when my mother died. And July of 2013 when my father followed in her footsteps. At those times, I dove in and did what I do best. I had a great support system in place on both sides of the table. But here it is, February 2014, and we've dispersed our separate ways. In many ways, I appreciate the fact that I am now able to start living my own life, independent of any ties. But there are times when I also don't know where to turn next. I don't know what my goals in life look like anymore. Just last night, in the middle of the night, I awoke choking on my own tears. I've never felt so lost and alone.

I'm not writing this to get sympathy from anyone. I am writing this as a reminder to anyone that has known someone that has experienced a close death, to be there for your friends and family. Sometimes, it's when you haven't heard from them in a while that they really need you the most. Even though it's been many months since losing my father and years since losing my mother, I still need someone to lean on at times. And I know that I am not alone. I know that many of you reading this have experienced the same things that I am going through and I hope that you have people around you that support you in any way they can. And likewise, we need to be there for them. This is one of the many reasons we have our friends and family in our lives. We should be there for each other in good times and in bad times.

I know I will get through this. Sometimes, when we look back at the trail we've tread, it's actually hard to believe we were scared or confused, or as uncertain as we were. Yet, we still rocked it. Remember that next time we feel scared, confused or uncertain. Call up that friend we haven't heard from in a while and we'll make it through. I will make it through. I have some amazing friends.

Reconnecting with the Past

I don't believe in burning bridges and hold no one responsible for me not enjoying my youth other than myself. I understand that we each were doing the best we could with what we had at the time.

At a time when I'm trying to put the past behind me and move forward in my life, I find it funny that lately there has been a flood of people from my childhood looking to reconnect with me.

I believe that there is a force in the universe that guides us to a certain extent. So I'm thinking there is probably a reason for all of these connections. I've yet to figure out what those reasons might be. But I'm willing to venture down that road so long as it doesn't lead me back to that dark place from where I came.

When I visited Arkansas a year and a half ago, it was so I might pay my respects to my past and put it behind me. I've done a good job of that. Now I've filed the good memories from my youth and taken a giant step forward in moving into the future.

So for all of you from my past, welcome. I know that we have all grown in different ways. And know that our separation over the years was nothing personal. I accept each of you for who you have become and hope that you can do the same with me. If not, it's been great reconnecting with you and I wish you nothing but Love in your future. Feel free to stalk my blog and see what I've been up.

If you are a loyal blog follower and you are patiently waiting for my return, I can tell you that I am healing well and working toward returning very soon. Thank you for your patience.

Reflection

As a child, I was no stranger to loss. People seemed to leave my life for various reasons, be it death, relocating or what. Often when meeting someone new, I would not bother to remember their name for even just a few moments. Because I knew that I would never see them again. Therefore, I was always very unattached. I would often make up stories in my head about friends that I had once known. I'm certain that my stories were much better than whatever the truth might be. One thing that was always true was that they are gone. And I will never see them again.
As I sat in the uncomfortable vinyl padded chair in the nursing home, I knew this loss would be different. I sat there every day for several months. The first couple of months, I thought there was hope. That hope eventually gave way to a new hope. A hope that the suffering would soon be over. I sat by my mother's side night and day. Some of my siblings would trade off with me for a while so I could get some rest or go off to work overnight. But I would be back as soon as I could. I had made a promise that I would be there for her no matter what.
I was angry. Angry at the doctors that had misdiagnosed her condition for the last couple of years. Angry that they had caused her to drag around oxygen tanks and take medications that did nothing for what was going on inside her frail body. Angry that all the while, her condition was worsening and now she was in the one place she always told me she never wanted to be. When it was clear that she was to the point of no return, I found out what it really means to have medical power of attorney for someone that does not want life support. It was time to sign the papers that cleared the nursing home from any liability for her death. I signed the death papers for the woman that gave me life.
Working in the business that I do, everyone expected me to be the strong one. I was. I have been. I'll try to continue to put on a strong face. It's not that she is gone or that I can't call her up and ask her silly questions. I'm quite used to that part of someone leaving. What bothers me most is the helpless look in her eyes as she knew what the future held. Her whimpered cries for her mama that had died when my mother was only twenty and before knowing any of her grandkids. She passed away silently with my sister by her side. I was already on my way when I received the call.
Then a short two years after loosing my mother, I arrived at my father's house to find him convulsing. Between seizures, he had a look in his eyes that said, "What's happening to me?". Within an hour, I knew we had reached that point once again. Again, I was the one to have to sign the papers. We decided that it should happen at home and we set up a schedule for someone to always be with him. After ten days, I was with him, holding his hand when he went to be with his wife of fiftyeight years once again. January 16th would have been my father's 90th birthday and the first of his birthdays that he has not been here for. I guess that is part of the reason that I've been focused on all of this lately.
For both of them, I handled everything to do with the funerals. Everyone thought the services were a fitting tribute to the people that brought this family to life and kept this family together.
But after all of that,what I have been struggling with is, what the family looks like after their departure. I feel an obligation to be a part of every one's life but at the same time, a freedom to finally do what I want instead of what everyone else wants.
When there is a loss, it always leaves an empty space in the lives around that person. I was prepared for that. What I wasn't prepared for was to be completely at a loss for where to go from here. These losses have effected me more than any other. I don't wish them back or wonder why they had to die. I for the first time in my life have realized that I have got to live my own life. I owe that to the parents that gave me life.

While I love to blog and even more so, love the connections and friendships that have come along with this blog, I am taking some time to get myself together. I can be better prepared to help others if I've got a purpose for my own existence. I'm not leaving blogland. You will see the occasional post from me. And I'll continue to comment on my favorite blogs if word verification allows. And for those that have followed me on facebook, I'll continue to be my witty self on that format. I just don't want to pressure myself with deadlines and expectations of myself. I want to keep this lighthearted and free. I know that I will be back. I'll be back stronger than ever and I look forward to that day.

Take care my friends.