Starting Again

Eight months ago, I started a BlogSpot titled "Dancing with the Broom." I didn't get very far. I posted there ONCE--Jan 6, 2009. After that I stopped. I didn't just stop blogging--I stopped living. I shut down. After years of taking care of three sons and two sets of parents, working, delivering far too many eulogies, and more, I crashed WHAM into a great wall of depression. And my soul screamed, "ENOUGH!"

I realized that I didn't want to live the way I was, and I certainly didn't want to die that way either. I prayed. I went to counseling. I got the right meds. I rested. I made decisions. The biggest decision I made was to leave my teaching career of 33 years. I decided that Mr. Rogers had to go so that Mark could take time to live. Now I loved being Mr. Rogers. I loved teaching. And I was really good at it. I put my heart and soul into it. Perhaps that was my mistake: I put too much of myself into it. I cared so much that it became very painful. Mr. Rogers had to go.

Fortunately, I had made smart financial decisons over the years which enabled me to say goodbye to teaching. And now here I am, starting again, and enjoying a sweeter life. Meanwhile, here is the one post from my orignial BlogSpot . . .



Dancing with the Broom
My wife wouldn't just sweep with the broom; she would dance with it too. She found the joy in each living minute. I have taken the lesson of my wife's dancing with the broom to face the enormity of her loss. I turn on the music and "dance" through the many tasks of the day. Sometimes I glide; sometimes I trip. But these are my steps


Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Starting Again

I haven't done any personal writing for a while. I feel a need to start again. (Thanks, Bret, for introducing me to this blog site. Sometimes we all need a little nudge.) I feel a need to vent, create, explore. Perhaps I can do those things here.

At the moment, I'm feeling very reflective. I need to collect some of my past writings and place them in one spot and review them. I need to study them, consider them, to see where I've been, so I can gain a better sense of where I am and where I seem to be heading.

And so, for a little while, my postings here will be pastings of earlier writings: my attempts at dealing with the loss of Annie, my wife and the mother of my three sons. I need to know that I've made some progress over the past four and one half years. At this moment, I feel as raw and lost as ever. My heart is still broken.