Trying to learn the lesson

The past few weeks, I've been thinking a lot about the final lesson Lucky left me with . . . that I needed to be willing to ask for what I needed. I want to make sure I don't lose the lesson, as I think it was very important to her that I understood that before she left me, so I have been mulling this over quite a bit.

I have gone through the last year in my mind, trying to figure out if there were times where I could have or should have asked for help. I have struggled to find many examples of where I missed an opportunity to ask for help. I could think of a few times where I DID ask for help and didn't get it, which probably made me less interested in seeking help. I could also think of more than a few examples of where I got "help" in the way of advice that wasn't actually helpful. It's been bugging me because I really do want to embrace this final lesson that Lucky had for me, I want to be a good student but I have been worried that I was missing her point.

What I have realized is that given the state of overwhelm I was in for most of the last year, I don't think I could have figured out WHAT I needed, let alone ask for help. In some cases I struggled with something for months before I finally found an easier way to do it and in some cases, a friend would figure out what I needed that would make things easier based on what I was telling him or her, but I am not sure if I could have identified a need and asked for help in those situations.

In one example that came to mind, I was telling a friend of mine that I had struck out on holistic cures for Lucky's yeast infection . . . that I had tried all the options I had found in my research and nothing was working. It was she who offered to do some more research and much to my surprise and delight, she found another option . . . which ended up being the one that worked. It didn't occur to me to ask her to do more research for me, as I thought I had exhausted all the possibilities, but clearly she is a better "googler" than me. I am still grateful she offered to do more research for me but I am not sure that I would have thought to ask her to do that. Of course, I will now. :-) If I ever find that I can't find information on the internet, she'll be the first person I will call.

And I thought of another example, from at least six months ago, when I was telling another friend about how I wasn't sleeping because Lucky was struggling to change positions during the night. I told him how I'd hear her trying to move and would need to turn the lamp on that sits on my bedside table, but my hands were so chewed up from using the sling, they'd either be too swollen or sore and I couldn't get a hold on the little knob that turns the light on. I'd struggle and struggle with the light, finally get it on, finally be able to see Lucky and figure out what she needed and afterwards, I would turn the light out, only to be woken up again an hour later, when I would hear her struggling to move and once again, and I'd go through the fiasco of trying to get the lamp turned on.

I was just explaining why I was so tired, but a couple days later he came over with a night light for me to put in my bedroom. The thought hadn't even occured to me. The only thought I had was, "If I wasn't using the sling, my hands wouldn't be this chewed up, but not using the sling isn't an option." It was necessary in order for Lucky to get around, so I figured it was just something I was going to have to cope with. Fortunately for Lucky and I, that night light ended up being the perfect solution to our night time challenges. With the light it gave off, when I heard Lucky making noise at night, I was able to see her easily and help her, all without having to fuss with trying to turn the lamp on anymore. But since the idea never came into my brain, I couldn't have asked someone to get a night light for me and it never occurred to me that maybe I could ask friends if they had any ideas for me. I was just grateful that my friend came up with a solution for me when I didn't realize there was another solution.

And then there was the whole challenge of getting Lucky in and out of the garage. It was another case where I never thought of asking friends if they had any solution ideas for me. I was just so focused on dealing with each of our new challenges as they came up, that I was on "auto pilot" and this was no exception. It's almost humorous now when I look back on it, the things we went through every day to get Lucky in and out of the garage and how long it took me to find a way to make it easier.

There are two steps from my laundry room into the garage and when we began using the sling full time to help Lucky walk, it presented us with a series of challenges. Going out to the garage, I would be holding her back end up with the sling, and she'd stop at least 6 inches away from the door to the garage, so as not to get her toes smooshed by the door when I opened it. I would hold the sling in my right hand and with my left hand, I would attempt to lean forward and reach the length of a german shepherd, plus about six inches to grab the door handle and pull the door opened, all while struggling to keep her back end up with my right arm. I'd then brace the door with my right foot, until we cleared the door and I'd help her down the two steps. This often involved a lot of swearing on my part, as it wasn't the easiest of maneuvers.

Then when we got back home, I'd get her to the steps, and while holding her back end up with the sling, I'd use my left foot to prop the door opened (so I was standing in the garage, but had my left foot up in the laundry room), and while trying to support her chest with my left hand and using my right hand to support the weight of her body with the sling, I'd try to steer her up into the laundry room . . and once she was finally up into the laundry room, I had to pull my right leg up to meet my left leg, that was already in the laundry room. This of course often resulted in more swearing, because it wasn't always the most graceful of maneuvers either and I guess it's no mystery why my back hurt all the time. I can't count the number of times we both fell down or almost fell down during these particular exercises.

We did this for months, every day, sometimes multiple times a day . . . and then one day, I got this bright idea . . . if I could find a way to keep the door OPENED, we wouldn't have to struggle with the whole door issue when we went in and out of the garage." I felt like I was on one of those V8 commercials where the person gets bonked in the forehead. "Why in the heck didn't I think of this sooner??" I wondered where my brain was some days. My solution was to get some rubber bands, twist them together and then use them to attached the door knob of the door to the garage to the door knob of the pantry door that is also in the laundry room. Ahh . . . problem solved. It at least eliminated one of the painful steps to our daily process. I berated myself for not figuring it out sooner . . . but again, I am not sure that it was a case of me not asking for help because I didn't think there was anything anyone could do to help me, unless I asked someone to move in with Lucky and I. Sure it would have been helpful to have someone hold the door opened for us each time we left the house, but I couldn't imagine calling friends 3-4x a day to say, "Lucky and I are about to leave the house, can you come over and hold the door opened for us?" Once again, I didn't see any way someone could help us.

What I did realize though, was that I hesitated to talk to many people about the things we were struggling with. I pondered that a while . . . Why didn't I talk to very many people about the things we were struggling with?

Several answers came to mind:

1) I didn't want to seem like a complainer. I was doing my best to stay positive because I didn't want Lucky to feel like she was a burden to me.

2) Often when I did share some of our struggles, I would get the "Do you think it's time?" response and what I needed was help not pressure to put Lucky down.

3) Often the response I got from friends was "You'll figure it out Mo, you always do." which don't get me wrong, it's nice to know my friends believe in me, but it did make me less apt to share what was going on and finally . . .

4) I had several friends who, when I shared what I was struggling with, would respond by bringing the conversation back to them . . . the "That reminds me of a struggle I am having" kind of response and then I would listen as they shared what was going on with them.

Since reasons 2, 3 and 4 never resulted in getting the support I needed or ideas that helped me, I think I just stopped talking to most people about what Lucky and I were dealing with.

A week or so ago, I went to my own blog and read what I had written after Lucky passed away, because I was missing her so much and just wanted to feel closer to her. There was something I had written that caught my eye . . . it wasn't the first time it caught my eye but this time it made me pause a little longer.

Before I explain that, there's something I should explain first. Something happens when I am writing . . . often times I get into a zone and words just pour out of me and onto the keyboard . . . and occasionally when I go back and read what I wrote, I am almost surprised. I'm not wanting to sound full of myself or anything, but there have been times where I went back and read something I wrote and thought, "Wow, that was good!" :-) and sometimes I think "Where did that come from?" I figure there must be someone else helping me write in those instances . . . maybe an angel sitting on my shoulder while I type or some other kind of divine assistance because I swear, there are so many times where I learn something from what I wrote myself. :-)

So, back to my blog, there was a line that said, "I wondered if that was Lucky's final lesson for me . . . that if I was willing to focus on what I needed and say it out loud, it would shift the energy so that more love and support could come my way, that more people would come forward and be present in the way I needed them to be." It was the line about people coming forward and being present in the way I needed them to be that really struck me. That was my challenge previously, that I would try to ask for help or be opened to help, but found that people couldn't help me or be present in the way I needed them to be. Because of that, as time went on, I interacted with less and less of my friends. It seemed easier to be alone than to have people around yet not feel supported.

That line from my blog just kept buzzing around and around in my head and I tried to focus on what I really needed. It was difficult at first, because I have trouble thinking about my own needs but once I really focused on it, I was able to start identifying a few things. I knew I needed to be around people who were comfortable with emotion, people who would allow me the space to cry if that's what I needed to do, to laugh if that's what I needed to do or to hug me if it looks like that's what I needed. I needed to be around people who were not uncomfortable talking about Lucky, people who wouldn't feel uncomfortable if her name came up in conversation or feel compelled to change the topic. I needed to be around people who could "hold the space" for me.

I was pleased that I had figured out what I needed but I was still stuck on the "say it out loud" part. I couldn't imagine calling all my friends or sending a note out to all of them, spelling out my newly discovered needs. It would just be weird and awkward, plus I know many people wouldn't be capable of delivering what I needed. It doesn't make me like them any less, but it wouldn't be fair to them or me, if I was wanting something from them they couldn't give me. I was feeling more clear about the fact that there are certain things I need right now and I don't want to downplay my needs, or feel apologetic for wanting certain things right now.

It reminded me of an analogy that I have used often over the years . . . that if there is something you need, you have to go to a place where it is provided. Going back to my college days in Spokane . . . I learned that if you really want a tequila shot, it doesn't make sense to go to a tavern and order one because taverns only serve beer and wine, so no matter how many times you try to order a tequila shot, or how nicely you ask, they're just not going to be able to serve you one. My old college roommate would frequently forget this, and the poor manager of the tavern we frequently went to would barely be able to hide his exasperation when she would again and again go up to the bar to order a round of tequila shots. :-)

Since I knew that not everyone I knew would be able to "be present in the way I needed them to be," I was stuck on who I was supposed to say it out loud to. I decided to just say it out loud to Lucky, because I'm operating under the assumption that she is still around, keeping an eye on me. I explained to her that I figured out what I needed and told her what all those things were. I figured it was a good first step and let it go at that.

As I sit here, thinking about the last week, I realized that I got exactly what I needed, so apparently, just telling Lucky was a good starting place. A friend invited me over to her house last Saturday to have dinner and pass out candy to the Trick-or-Treaters with she and a few friends. I had the most lovely evening. We oohed and aahed over all the darling halloween costumes the kids were wearing. We talked about Lucky, I shared stories about her and no one was uncomfortable. We laughed a lot through out the evening, and when I showed my friend the german shepherd angel in my car, we both cried. When I was getting ready to leave, my friend's boyfriend offered to let me take one of their plants home because he felt it was important to have something/someone to take care of, which made everyone tear up. I declined his offer (as I have quite a few plants) but I was deeply touched by his concern and the darling way he broached the subject.

The next day, I was struggling a lot with missing Lucky. When a friend called to invite me to join she and her daughter on an outing, she could tell that I wasn't doing so great. She asked, "Are you having a sad day?" and I said "Yes, I am" as my voice cracked and the tears started to flow. She said "Why don't we get together and I can just listen. You don't have to worry about being up, let me just support you in the space you are in." It almost took my breath away, to have someone be so present for me.

Many more times this week, I had experiences like this, where people just seemed to be present in the way I needed them to be, which in turn allowed me to be present in the way they needed me to be.

I was talking to two good friends of mine about this concept of "holding the space" for someone, which is another way of saying "being present in the way someone needs you to be." We've talked about what a gift it is when someone "holds the space" for you and it's one of the reasons we enjoy each others company, because we all do that for one another. I was telling them that when trying to talk about this concept to others, I frequently get the "But what does that really mean?" question. We were all trying to find words to better explain it, but were having some difficulty at first. It's one of those things where you "know it when you experience it" but it's hard to describe.

Finally we came up with some words to more accurately explain it - it's where you have no agenda, no goal for the conversation, where you just let a person say what they need to say and offer up enough empathy and then enough silence, that the person feels safe to feel what they are feeling. You don't jump into trying to solve the problem, you don't change the subject, you don't take any responsibility for what the person is feeling, you don't bombard them with questions. You just allow them the "space" to feel what they are feeling and express what they feel like sharing, and you let them know you're there in whatever capacity they'd like you to be. Now that I can better articulate what it means to have more people around who can "hold the space" for me, I have said it out loud (to Lucky again). I look forward to seeing what happens. And I hope she is proud of me for trying hard to not miss out on what she was trying to teach me in our final week together.

Back to Halloween for a moment . . . last weekend, one of the memories that kept popping into my head that both touched me and made me sad, was how the children Lucky was friends with loved showing her their halloween costumes. As I have mentioned before, Lucky and I always went to the same park at the same time each day, so that her little friends would always know they could find her if they wanted to see her. In the last couple of years, some of these darling children have arrived at the park in their halloween costumes, days before and days after the actual holiday because they wanted Lucky to see them in their costumes. Last year, a darling little girl arrived in the cutest fairy costume and her mom said, "I'm so glad you are here, she was so excited about Lucky seeing her dressed up, we had to rush home so she could change into her costume after school."

A couple days later, one of Lucky's little friends arrived in his Batman costume. When one of the other parents inquired as to why her son was still wearing his costume so many days after Halloween, his mom explained that her son really wanted Lucky to see him in his costume. It touched me so much, I almost cried.

Lucky had such a special relationship with all those kids and it's one of the things I really miss now that she is gone. I think we both lit up in the presence of the children we met at the park. A friend who we met at the park years ago, invited me to join she and her child when they went to the park the other day. I knew I wasn't ready yet to show up without Lucky and be faced with answering questions about where she is. I know in time, I'll be able to do it and it will be wonderful to see all those darling children again. Right now just isn't the time.

For now, I am going to try to keep focusing on what Lucky was trying to teach me. I am going to try to keep thinking about what I need and when I identify a need, I am going to say it out loud. I think my neighbors will find it's a welcome change from all the swearing they've undoubtedly heard me doing in the previous 10 months. :-)

Well, the swearing hasn't ceased completely . . . back to the door that goes into the garage for a moment . . . the other day, I jumped out of the car and was running into the house, doing what one of my friends calls the "Dance of Hope" (where you hope you make it to the bathroom in time), when the door started to close on me after I had flung it opened and the strap of my purse got caught on the door handle. I didn't notice until after making it a foot or two out of the laundry room, at which time I was launched backwards by my purse strap, which almost resulted in the "Dance of Defeat" and did result in a fair amount of swearing . . . I decided that maybe keeping the door in the opened position with my rubber bands is a routine I shouldn't change for now.