Monday, May 16, 2011


As I am sure you know, my friends, it is not easy to maintain optimism and hopefulness in the face of day to day challenges--locally and around the world. I try really hard most of the time to promote those feelings in these blogs and in my office. BUT, every once in a while along comes a thunderstorm of emotions that takes time to process and resolve.Sometimes,the storm is so intense that an umbrella is worthless and nothing shields us from the rain of pain.

2011 has been a loss leader in many ways. First, my doctor cousin Debra, then my Mom (who needed to move on, but that doesn't lessen the loss) and then,unexpectedly, Mimi G.

I think Mimi would approve of me saying that she was my counseling client for many,many years as she would always be quick to tell everyone and anyone that if it weren't for me, she wouldn't be here, thereby breaking her own confidentiality.Truth be known, I almost saved her again. I just missed in a way that haunts me still and will so forever.

In recent years, she was my colleague, helping others learn relaxation skills at our tranquility center.Her goodness and mercy graced the halls of our office and cheered us up and on. Her last act of kindness for me was to clean and organize my Fibber McGee closet, with plans to take on the bathroom soon.Sad to say,I'm stuck doing the bathroom on my own, which I don't mind, but for the implication of her absence.

Saturday, I was invited by Mimi's family to attend the memorial of her ashes being placed at sea. In my characteristic fashion, I was very quiet aboard the Pamela III. Despite the rockiness of this water logged byway, I sat sadly in one of their fishing chairs feeling the force of the ocean swells. I did not seek shelter, as many of the others did, but chose to allow the wind and sea mist to activate my senses. I licked the salt water from my face like so many pounds of tears trying to wash away the pained feelings of loss. I allowed the mist to cloud my glasses until I could no longer see the sea. On some level the pounding wetness I was experiencing helped me. Discomfort tells us we are alive and therefore still able to reach out and touch someone, which I tried to do in many silent ways.

I came to realize that that is what my blog and other writings are all about. Mimi was a loyal reader and responder. They helped her these last few years overcome parts of herself and rise to the challenges of her life. With that in mind I found my voice at sea that evening amid my heavy heart and the heaving ocean below us.I shall continue to try to be a positive influence on our less than positive voyage.At the end of the day we just need to believe in the power of our self to heal and overcome and find peace and joy as long as we are alive.Our losses may trip us up momentarily, but we cannot allow them to keep us down indefinitely.

Mimi would have enjoyed and agreed with this blog. I'm quite sure they have wireless internet in Heaven.

Hopefully, filled with renewed hope, I am back.

Bye For Now,



  1. Your description of Saturday literally brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for writing this. It really struck a cord inside me and I am very grateful.

    Sloane Massey

  2. Mimi touched so many people in so many ways. Your tribute to her is being celebrated where they have internet access in heaven. I am very grateful to you and to Mimi for all you have given. My condolences for your loss. We have lost an angel and your expressing the feelings helps us all.
    An Anonymous Friend