breath – Page 2 – In the Woods

an explanation for all the confusion and difficulties in your life

How do you explain to the people around you that what you need now is to just crash and do nothing for a while until your head feels normal again, when you don’t even know what’s wrong with yourself? … I think it’s important to keep in mind that when we define the severity of a person’s Autism, it’s only a measure of outward behavior and doesn’t really reflect how much one is affected by the condition internally. Those of us who appear to have low severity may actually need more than is apparent to the eye. … Sometimes I think of myself as part of a lost generation (or generations), the ones who had to go through life with Asperger’s unknowingly. And I’m hoping that in the future, with better education and understanding, the Aspie youth of the future will have a completely different experience. … It’s a nice feeling — a relief — to finally find an explanation for all the confusion and difficulties in your life, but it would have been even nicer to have known it all along.
~ Michelle Vines
(Asperger’s on the Inside)

Yesterday I spent the day reading and then shredding all the journals I wrote when I was in my late 20s and early 30s. (I’m in my early 60s now.) Something I’ve been meaning to do for a few years because there was a lot of very personal stuff in there.

What was strikingly revealed to me as I read is the painful struggle I was having with autism for years, trying desperately to figure out what was “wrong” with me. The evidence of impaired executive functioning jumped out at me on almost every page, so obvious from what I know now, so baffling back then. I wanted so badly to live like a “normal” (neurotypical) person, to figure out how to get along in this world.

As I read I kept saying under my breath, “no wonder you were so damn tired all the time.” It’s exhausting trying to make your brain work with a different operating system. I can’t help wondering what my life might have been like had I and my parents and my husband known about autism and if I had had some meaningful support. But it IS a huge relief to have it all make sense now.

you must have walked

3.1.20 ~ Finn, 16 months ~ photo by Larisa

Dear March — Come in —
How glad I am —
I hoped for you before —
Put down your Hat —
You must have walked —
How out of Breath you are —
Dear March, how are you, and the Rest —
Did you leave Nature well —
Oh March, Come right up stairs with me —
I have so much to tell —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1320)

busy, busy, busy

5.25.18 ~ great egret at Eastern Point Beach

The fatigue from radiation has finally gone away, just in time! I’ve been neglecting my blog because we’ve had a lot of company and I’ve been over the moon cooking for them, having folks at my table again, and getting out and about with them.

Nate tells me someone has been trying to hack my blog, several times, and he’s spent hours investigating and remotely taking measures to protect it. I am so grateful he knows what he’s doing!

A new little brother or sister for Katherine will be arriving in Ireland near the end of October!!! Of course I will be spending a month or two over there to help out. Wouldn’t miss this big event for the world. 🙂

5.25.18 ~ Eastern Point Beach ~ Tim, Aunt Delorma and Allegra ~ when I suddenly noticed I was being watched
while taking pictures of the great egret

I’ve taken a Photoshop course at the senior center so I’m looking forward to using my new skills. We’re still taking our Tai Chi class. Not sure I will ever master it. If I pay attention to my leg movements then my arm movements and breathing can’t seem to stay coordinated. And vice versa. But I get an “A” for effort and the instructor is very encouraging.

On Friday my sister and I are flying to West Virginia to visit our aunt and cousin. We’ve never been there before so it will be a new experience. I hope to bring back some good pictures. The last and only time Beverly and I have flown together was in 1974 when we flew home from Greece.

In September Tim & I will be driving to Kentucky for our niece’s wedding and a 3-day family reunion immediately afterwards. On our way home we plan to stop at a few places in western New York to do some family history research.

So much to look forward to!

Conor Pass (An Chonair)

Saturday morning Dima, Larisa, Katherine, Tim & I piled into a rented car and took off for the Dingle Peninsula on the west coast of Ireland. Larisa drove.

Going through the mountains of the peninsula we traveled on a one lane road and frequently had to pull to the side to squeeze by cars coming from the other direction. Had to remember to pull to the left because they drive on the left side of the road in Ireland. This took some getting used to.

2.3.18 ~ Conor Pass, Kerry, Ireland ~ Tim

We finally came to a rest area with parking and got out to take some pictures of the breathtaking scenery.

It was a grey, damp and chilly day.

2.3.18 ~ Conor Pass, Kerry, Ireland ~ mountain in the distance with snow cap

2.3.18 ~ Conor Pass, Kerry, Ireland ~ two cars squeezing by each other

And then we headed down to the town of Dingle where we found a place for lunch. The rest rooms were so cold! But the food was yummy and I learned what a standard breakfast in Ireland consisted of. (I ordered breakfast because they served it all day and with a wheat allergy it can be difficult to order a sandwich without bread.) Only one egg! Two huge pieces of ham, two huge links of sausage, and the option of adding on blood sausage (in addition to the regular sausage) which they call blood pudding.

While we were eating the sun came out and we decided to go to Coumeenoole Beach for the afternoon.

fatigue

2.2.18 ~ Fota Wildlife Park, Carrigtwohill, Cork, Ireland ~ Lar gibbon (?)

My goodness I am so very tired. A side effect of the radiation that might last up to three months. So I am trying to go with the flow… Radiation seems to have lowered my immunity and I came down with yet another cold while in Ireland. All the same, I’m so happy we went!

One amazing positive thing has happened since my ovaries were removed: I haven’t had a migraine since the surgery. It may be too soon to jump for joy but I’m keeping my fingers crossed and keeping a small supply of Zomig on hand, just in case.

After my second dose of radiation on a Wednesday we hopped on the plane to Ireland. I slept most of the trip over, the first time I ever fell asleep on a jet. We arrived first thing Thursday morning, Ireland time, and after the hellos we both took a nap. When we came downstairs we had lunch and then Larisa and I walked Katherine to her afternoon Montessori school. It felt so good to stretch my legs and breathe in the fresh air.

2.2.18 ~ Fota Wildlife Park
Carrigtwohill, Cork, Ireland
bundled up Katherine

On Friday Katherine skipped school and Tim, Larisa and I took her to Fota Wildlife Park in Carrigtwohill, County Cork. I think I will save most of the animal pictures to pair with quotes but will share a few here.

2.2.18 ~ Fota Wildlife Park, Carrigtwohill, Cork, Ireland
a rook introduces itself

Ubiquitous in Ireland: brown sugar for your tea; greenery; unheated bathrooms; sinks with two faucets, one for cold and one for hot; sheep; and rooks. A rook is “a gregarious Eurasian crow with black plumage and a bare face, nesting in colonies in treetops.” Of course one found me and insisted on telling me its story. 🙂

in the gift shop I bought a book on Irish birds identifying
the rooks we saw every day and everywhere

the rook seemed to be wondering if I understood now…

2.2.18 ~ Fota Wildlife Park, Carrigtwohill, Cork, Ireland
Katherine excited to see penguins!

As many of you know, Katherine adores penguins!

2.2.18 ~ Fota Wildlife Park, Carrigtwohill, Cork, Ireland ~ Humboldt penguin

A wonderful time was had by all!

middle summer

The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. There is no thunder, no relieving rain. These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after.
~ Natalie Babbitt
(Tuck Everlasting)

under-lighting

Early this morning we saw something beautiful that we had never seen before. Gulls flying overhead with the sun rays of dawn under-lighting their wings. It was as if they had shiny reflectors on the underside of their wings ~ breathtaking…

The patient (Tim) has had his last meal at his favorite restaurant and we’ve stocked up on clear liquids and chewing gum. Not looking forward to driving to the hospital in a snow storm tomorrow morning.

berry picking

winslow.homer.the-berry-pickers.jpg!Large — “The Berry Pickers” by Winslow Homer

Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each.
~ Henry David Thoreau
(Journal, August 23, 1853)

for more than forty years

10.10.15.0729 — Race Point Beach ~ 10.10.15 ~ Provincetown, Massachusetts

One evening on our Cape Cod trip we went to Race Point Beach in Provincetown to see the sunset. It felt so good to be outside in the salty air, walking on the sand.

I will never forget this trip to Cape Cod with my dearly loved husband of 40+ years. Until 2008 we used to come here all the time – summer vacations and weekend getaways. Sadly, Tim’s grandparents’ house in Provincetown was sold that year and my grandparents’ house in Dennis Port was sold in 2009. Our last trip, to bury my father’s ashes in October 2013, was all too brief.

We did, however, go to Provincetown in May 2009 to celebrate our anniversary and stayed at a bed and breakfast called The Black Pearl. It’s no longer there, we discovered, the house now owned by someone else. We took a long walk on Beech Forest Trail. Six long years since that visit. The town and the seashore have changed. So have we. But we still found healing there, and peace. I think it will always be a place where we will free to be ourselves in times of transition. It will always feel like home.

The sea can do craziness, it can do smooth,
it can lie down like silk breathing
or toss havoc shoreward; it can give

gifts or withhold all; it can rise, ebb, froth
like an incoming frenzy of fountains, or it can
sweet-talk entirely. As I can too,

and so, no doubt, can you, and you.

~ Mary Oliver
(A Thousand Mornings)