Random Thoughts in Recovery
Viewing the wreath and the fern of my life this summer.
6 weeks ago I had my surgery gone wrong and June was a blur of pain and recovery. July hasn’t exactly been full steam ahead1 but I am slowly finding my way back to real life. I just walked outside with a drink and my laptop and sat down on a chair my husband set up for me. And when I sat down I said, “look at me walking and sitting and carrying things.” It is amazing how thrilling the little things can be. I even spent 20 minutes in Target and wasn’t desperate to get back to the car when we left. (Although I think I would have been if we stayed much longer.)2
I am looking across the street to our neighbor’s house at a Christmas wreath still hanging on the front door. They also put out a lovely summery fern by the garage recently so we have Summer and Christmas3 in our view. Not that I am judging, I have had birds build nests in the wreaths on my garage which ended up hanging there, dead, dried up and looking embarrassing, until June. Ever since one of my friends texts me each year at the end of January letting me know it is time to take down my wreaths. Can’t promise I wouldn’t still have mine up as well without her.
My summer is feeling a little like my view of the neighbor’s house. Many lingering tasks and abandoned goals along with a few fresh ideas. I’m enjoying a slow return to life amidst a fleeting Minnesota Summer. So as I experience the beauty of the season and ignore the clutter of winter, here are a few random thoughts from me:
Last summer I had these beautiful but very high maintenance hanging flower baskets along with flowers and herbs in pots on my deck. I hadn’t planned to do anything quite as elaborate this year, didn’t like all the maintenance, but planned to do something flowery on my deck. Instead I am the opposite extreme this year, there are 2 pots of dirt I am admiring on my deck. Zero maintenance. But, I do have a very green tree to enjoy along with my very dirty terracotta planters.
One of my goals for 2025 is to write a document I’ve been calling, “Melanie’s Dead”. I got the name from a friend whose husband wrote one for her with his name. I manage all the finances in our home and aside from the fact that everything is automatically paid John4 would have been in trouble this month.5 So we started talking, along with our daughter, about the need for this document. They both decided it should actually be called “Melanie is not Available” because what if they needed to do something while I was unable to take care of things but not dead as was the case in June? And they both felt like in light of all we have been through “Melanie’s Dead” was not a name they were emotionally comfortable with6. They have renamed the document, “What would Melanie do?” And so that, along with updating our will, continues to be one of my goals of the year.
One of my good friends moved into a new place a mile away at the end of June. I had been dreaming of a summer walking over to meet up, go out for coffee or to the brewery at the end of her block. Obviously that won’t be happening this year. I called her the other day to chat, telling her I was bored of laying on my couch, she suggested I come lay on her couch to chat. I didn’t feel up to it but now my goal is to go over and lay on her couch when I am bored and just want to shoot the breeze. I have never had close neighborhood friends so this is a bit of a dream come true.7
I have lost a bit of weight the last 6 weeks. At first I was honestly mad about it because I have been battling my menopause weight gain for a couple years unsuccessfully.8 If my goal was simply to get off the weight I could have taken a laxative and starved myself for a couple days at any point. I figured it would come right back so I wasn’t going to engage in enjoying my clothes fitting a little more comfortably or my face looking a little less puffy. But as it becomes clear that while the surgical healing is improving, I will be healing my liver and gut for quite a while and this is going to end up being more of a lifestyle change than I expected, I have decided to let weight loss be the gift for everything I have been through. Zero of ten would not recommend but if I must be in misery I might as well look for the gifts within them. And forcing a shift in priorities to my dietary health and having more comfortable fitting clothes, something I have been wanting for a while, is a gift of this experience. There haven’t been a lot but I am trying to find them.
A friend sent me a book called “The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady”. It is legit the reprinted diary of a woman from the 1800’s. It is focused on birds and flowers and generally her observations in nature more than what she was doing, thinking or feeling on a day to day basis. Including her drawings of those flowers and birds. I have been enjoying reading each month’s entries but what I am most struck by is not the flowers and birds. I like nature but birding is not one of the hobbies I will be unlocking in my old age. I was struck instead by a journal full of observations outside herself. I have many journals my daughter has been instructed to burn upon my death full of all my thoughts, deep, fleeting, shallow, mean, generous, doubting, confident thoughts. Pages and pages of navel gazing. But I rarely think to record thoughts outside myself. Or honestly even think outside myself most days. And certainly the past 6 weeks have been full of thoughts about myself. Our thankful board is a little bit of an attempt to observe the world outside ourselves but I have been wondering what it might look like to record a couple sentences regularly about what I am seeing around me, in the world, in nature, in life. Those slow, simple, basic observations. No need to process, just witness. While we were at the cabin I took a few pictures of the things I was noticing, I also will not be unlocking artist Melanie in old age but photos are fun too9, just to start thinking and recording something outside myself during this season of my life.
Speaking of hobbies, I was surprised when the story of my hysterectomy got picked up by the substack algorithm and read by many, many multiples of people more than I usually get (Hi if you stuck around). It caused me to look at my “about me” page and wonder what exactly I said when I started this last year. (1 year anniversary around the corner, I should think of something thoughtful to say about that…just kidding, I looked to see when I published my first post and yesterday was the 1 year anniversary. So I guess this the thoughtful thing I am going to say about it.) Mostly I felt like it still reflected where I am at but one thing I have been thinking about both in a “woah is me” way and a laughing at myself way (because that is how I roll) was my hobbies. At one point I write, “I love to travel, hike, hang out in coffee shops, drink bourbon, and talk…Goal: not overshare my every thought in this space…Also, goal to discover more things I love in this season of life. That was a sad, short list.” Well, in this process of healing my liver, drinking bourbon is now off my already short list of interests/hobbies and as I think about engaging in a healthier lifestyle for the foreseeable if not forever future I am wondering if it is time to develop some more traditional hobbies. Although I am getting quite proficient at scrolling instagram reels… The hobby I am toying with is the needlework I learned when I was a child, although I can’t recall who taught me. I have heard it called creweling as well. I don’t know that I have ever been great at it but I have always enjoyed it. A couple months ago I was cleaning out a closet and came across a piece I have been carrying around finished but unframed for years. As needlework and grandmacore style is trending I decided it was time to slap it into a frame. It has quickly become one of my favorites. I got it from my grandma at some point, probably in my 20’s. She had started it but couldn’t finish it. It took me years to finish, as they all did because I am in no rush10, but still have had it balled up in a corner following me around for at least 20 years. It’s funny how at this stage of life those things become so much more meaningful. To have a piece that we both did together. She was a loving grandma but not really the warm fuzzy sort of grandma that I sat around doing needle work with. I am sure she is not the one who taught me to do it. But she knew I had learned and passed the piece on to me to finish and the shared project is bringing me joy. I also bought a small needlework piece during covid which I just finished about a year ago. So clearly I am not like the knitters who bring their hobby everywhere and get things done. But I do enjoy it and thought I would pick up a new kit to start. Replacing my bourbon (and instagram scrolling) hobby with needlework.
What is new in your life? What are you observing? Any new hobbies?
Thought it was going to be full steam ahead in July and then ended up back in the ER on Independence Day. I had written last week about how glad I was we didn’t go to the cabin after the surgery because of the clot and long drive to a hospital but was confident I was safe a month out. Sigh. Luckily the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as the clot and the hour drive to a bigger hospital wasn’t as horrible as it could have been. I’m OK but my liver has decided it is going to be cranky about recovering from the clot and now my part time job is figuring out how to eat healthy enough to not hurt.
Weirdly standing is harder than walking. Although I can’t walk too long, walking is less uncomfortable than standing. Slowly rebuilding my stamina.
Their wreath is fake and behind a storm door so it looks as fresh and nest free as it did in November. I don’t think they ever use their front door so I wonder if they even remember it is there.
Many years ago I started forcing John to endure conversations about our budget and our financial position so he isn’t totally clueless. And, I like to believe he has come to enjoy those business meetings. But he wouldn’t know where to find the information I tell him. He is awesome at handling other things.
What we learned is that as long as John keeps getting a paycheck he can grieve for a while before he really has to do anything…
I think Melanie’s Dead is a hilarious name for a document but then again I need to laugh at inappropriate things when I am grieving. Maybe I will have John write up a “John’s Dead” document to explain everything going on in the garage. Because that is what I will need and it will be hilarious.
I have had wonderful neighborhood friends but not the type I would just pop over for no reason but to shoot the breeze. Except a very brief 2 year period in my 20’s when my sister and her husband bought the house across the street from us. It was magical. Although I don’t know that I ever popped over there for no reason either. My 2 year old son on the other hand would take it upon himself to pop over as if their house was an extension of our house all the time. Many, “do you know where your son is” phone calls…
Not that menopause hasn’t affected my weight/metabolism/everything but I am well aware of why I wasn’t losing the weight and that wasn’t it. My heart is committed to the task but my taste buds and habits have not been.
Don’t tell an artist you don’t plan to unlock they artist skill because they will assure you they can teach you how to draw flowers and birds.
Legit I bought a baby needlework piece at a garage sale before we were even thinking about having children. Mostly because we were broke and it was really cheap and I figured eventually I would need it. I started working on it then and I worked on it occasionally when I was pregnant but didn’t finish. I was close and thought I would get it done shortly after he was born but I had a newborn so we all know that didn’t happen. It got set on a shelf where I promptly forgot about it until after our daughter was born. I finally finished it when she was little and now it awaits a grandchild whose name, birthdate and weight can be added in and hung in the nursery. Now, during grandma style decorating, would be a good time to have a grandchild. It will probably be tacky once again by the time I am a grandma…But that child is getting it none the less!
I came for the anglican church plant, stayed for the wit about navigating mid life and keep laughing along with your footnotes! Happy 1 year anniversary!