Photo on Left is Charcoal Portrait of Sam Finkelstein done by Chester Bloom in 1961. Photo on Right is Sam in Restaurant at Dinner Party in November, 2002, prior to move from NJ to Florida in December.

The Gift of Sam – Eternally grateful for my beloved Sam
The gifts from Sam to me were, and are, countless, some beyond measure:

The gift of unconditional love,
The gift of me,
The gift of my being “Number 1”, always and forever in his life, his heart.

The gift of love beyond measure for me, his sons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren
The gift of acceptance of what could not be changed
The gift of words, words that surface and sustain me even now, some from 51 years ago.

The gift of always being supportive
The gift of countless hours in the darkroom honoring the photos I took of my students and their work
The gift of non-judgment and always being present

The gift of goodness, generosity and love
The gift of a seeing eye, that complemented mine
The gift of partnership and belief in me, in us

The gift of sweetness, tenderness and caring
The gift of humor, commitment and action
The gift of belief

The gift of caresses, soft and tender, with special smiles
The gift of Being, accepting and caring
for him, for me, for all peoplees in the world.

Gentle and compassionate, count-on-able and always there
The gift of life
Despite his death
His honoring of me lives on!

Forever grateful for it all, blessed to have been the recipient of so much, I express my gratitude to you, my Beloved, and all those who helped make you into the forever kind and always man who you were for us, and for your contributions to our world.

And, though I pang at times for things I didn’t do, for ways I was and wasn’t and the “could have’s” done more and better’s, the incessant mind chatter that still surfaces from time to time, I have the greatest gift of all from you, the knowing that, no matter what, I had your love and you had mine!

Eternal gratitude is both of ours.  Remembering it and you this eve of Thanksgiving that marks the 4th year that you have been physically gone from me, from us.

Always love, my Beloved.

NOTE, Prefacing Today’s writing:
Yesterday, 11/22,  in the Wild Woman Writers Group in which I’m a participant, I wrote the following in response to a timed writing prompt.  The calendar date of Sam’s death is 11/21. The day of the week that year in 2007 was the eve of Thanksgiving.

Hmm. Is what’s sticking me my not having spent time writing yesterday honoring Sam, telling him how grateful I was and am for all he contributed to my life? Oh, my darling, is it even necessary to write or do you and I both know it?

Hmm. I’m evidently thinking words, which are so important to me, were not spoken out loud enough. The feelings were taken for granted not always even identifiable by me.  How easy is to recognize the feeling of pleasure. The feelings of love are so much more intangible, elusive for expression beyond the romantic type words, the standard always used one.

Is is sufficient to simply know love, without words?

I came across these random thoughts written on a pad as I walked in Green Cay a couple of months ago. Thought I’d add them here, since all writing, for me, adds to some form of healing.

Seeing loads of snail shells, large ones, out of their element, or is it me?

Breezes sweep past and caress my legs as I look out -
Cameraless, Partnerless, here at Green Cay.

Pad and Pen – Spaces for Tears.
Well, I let them come.  No camera to hide behind tonight.

Feeling breezes again
Quick caresses on my legs.
Oh, how I wish they were yours, that you were here, my Beloved.

Spoonbill was on dry land, dried out spot -
Found way back to walk.
Only for me, dry land – wet land.
There is more to find here on Earth.

Anhinga is spreading his wings and don’t know why it is.
Is it you, my Darling, letting me know through your favorite bird that you’re here?

Today WRITING CAMP, my friend Morgine Jurdan wrote and read about a delectable meal she recently had. Beautifully described, missing, for me, was the bread soaking up sauce part she had told me about in an earlier phone conversation. After the call, I wrote:

Morgine’s bread soaking up the cream mustard sauce – doesn’t matter what the sauce – I see it, feel it, that piece of bread swelling with the fullness of the tasty moisture it is absorbing – all the cells getting full as its body is pushed around the plate to gather up all that is available in the plate of life to put into my gut.

“My gut” – Interesting I’m so harsh about it – “gut” sounds so heavy, almost ugly. What if it were into my “being” – gently, slowly, if I temper myself to taste morsel by morsel and allow myself to digest the treasures of the plate – slowly working their way through my boding, sensing the spaces they need to fill? It’s all liquid, absorbed and softened by the carrier, a healthy piece of bread, bringing out peace of mind, peace of body.

PS – Originally wrote “mustard sauce” and in editing added the “cream” (which had in reality been there). I was tempted to remove the “mustard” part. “Too tangy”, thought I. Then, “Silly, or not, maybe that’s what’s missing for you – the tanginess of life!”

If you missed the link to Morgine’s writing, see I Remember…, halfway down the post, for the meal writing to which I responded.

I had a full “plate” of classes and “to-dos” today and once again I got a nudge at 11:30 AM to finish the call I was on and drop in on Julie Jordan Scott’s WRITING CAMP. From my experience of being in the spaces that Julie creates, I know something is bound to open up for me. I my not always know what it is or will be and I was surprised today to find that memories of Sam flowed from my, interestingly, red pen. Was the “red” for my heart?

The prompt “Blessings in front of my right now“; the floor and the tiles that take me anywhere I want to go in my house: to the riches or the distractions; to 3 carpeted rooms, two of which house my MacIntosh computers; the other my bed for rest and memories of Sam, of being held closely, tightly, lovingly and being gently caressed on the flesh of my abdomen when I lay on my back.

I hated this. It brought my attention and awareness to what I felt was an excess of fat, more pronounced, for me, with his caresses. I always stopped him, removed his hand; never thought to ask what pleasure he derived from this. Too late now.

My writing continued, given there was more time before the timer had Julie state, “Complete your thought and end for now.” I continued writing about the pot in front of me, in the center of the floor, remaining from a fire ritual I did last night, celebrating the Fall Equinox. And that story is unimportant here.

Suffice it to say, “Life does go on and we can continue to find richness and blessings if we put ourselves out in communities which support us.” Thank you, Julie.

This morning I was moved to join a call facilitated by Julie Jordan Scott.  The call was one of her current 49-day daily writing program in AND NOW, YOU WRITE. I’ve been a participant in countless calls and programs that Julie has offered over the past eight or more years that I have known her.  She is a truly authentic, loving, sharing, caring, generous human being. I consider her one of my mentors and know that always something will open up for me out of being in her presence. If you are interested in writing and/or being comfortable in expressing yourself, I strongly recommend you check out Julie’s AND NOW, YOU WRITE virtual writing camp.

The prompt for today was “I fill the paper with the breathing of my heart” and in the subsequent five minutes of free-flow writing time, the words that filled my paper became:

I fill the paper with the breathing of my heart.  Prompt from Julie Jordan Scott

I’ve just completed reading my friend Renee Barnow’s Right-Line Blog post – “What Do Your Hands Say? What Does Your Voice Hold?”

Immediately, I imaged the photograph Sam took years ago of my hand lighting Hanukah Candles on the Menorah.  I then I started recalling so many others of his wonderful black and white photos; so instead of a single comment on Renee’s post, I decided to create my own post in response.

Hand honors Ritual and Celebration of Light

Hands display art (here – sterling silver and ceramic rings made by me) while caressing Nature’s textures

In wonder and awe – hands caress pregnant belly and yet-to-be-born child

Future brother’s hand lifts maternity blouse, querying the future -
(To see more photos of young boys’ hands expressing love and togetherness, Sam’s Photos, click on a thumbnail and cycle through the enlargements)

Hand in Hand – Child and Man – Symbolizes Trust (Young boy’s hand in Sam’s – photo ©Sheila Finkelstein)

and, I was reminded of how often I use “hand” in language… “on the other hand”, “in my hands”, “hand-drawing” (in describing my photo/drawings)

Sporadically, I’ve been posting on this blog sharing some of my writing as examples of a pathway to healing.  Today, I’m reminded though the words came, I am blessed to have the photos and the technical ability to share them with you also – photography and cycling through memories as another access to healing.

Note – As I scrolled down this published page, I noted other photos – Hands for blowing kisses and Hands for writing.

Photo by Sam Finkelstein - Morning Fog overlooking Long Island Sound in Harkness Memorial State Park, Waterford, CT

I come to know aloneness, intimately, when I remember the fogs that Sam and I stood in… Harkness Gardens in Connecticut and the beautiful image in the distance, the broken fog.  I leaned against him to enjoy together. And he is no longer here.  

Then there was the fog of Bar Harbor, Maine, the year we couldn’t see in the distance beyond it and had the experience of studying that which was beneath us and closely all around. The boys, came up to us and we were all together – a family.

The family still exists, though, distant somewhat, with their own.  The intimacy still exists on a different level and though they say he’s with us in memory, they can’t miss the feel of him against my body.  Memories don’t quite suffice and the gratitude for having had it exists always.

The intimacy of aloneness, what does it mean?  I surround myself with stories when I think and look at things, and they are not the stories of Sam or us. They are the stories I make up from what I currently see.  

Would stories from the past make a difference? I think not.  It’s being in the present that will most empower me, knowing I’m blessed with those intimate memories, plus the love notes and photos from Sam still present in my home as well as my heart.

(Note: This writing came out of a visualization, breathing exercise, in Julie Jordan Scott’s Writing Intensive Winter Camp. Thank you, Julie.)

Today is Valentine’s Day and all around it seems people are acknowledging the “heart” day… Subject lines in emails, Twitter posts, probably on Facebook also.

My friend Marifran Korb has written some wonderful posts on Celebrating Valentine’s Day, including most importantly celebrating ourselves.  She wrote: “Make a commitment to fall in love over and over again with YOURSELF. Love is a commitment, not a feeling.” Valentine’s Day, Part 3, with lots of great ideas.  AND, I wanted NO part of any of it!

Sam and I never much celebrated Valentine’s Day as a holiday.  I’d like to think we celebrated our love daily. Despite this, on the subconscious level, I think, sadness had been setting in as I was reading tags and posts.

I’m here now at my computer with sporadic tears welling in my eyes, some  passing down over my cheeks.   It’s more than two years since my beloved Sam has left this Earth and, though my life is full, sometimes it seems even lonelier than it was  in the days and year after he died. (Why is it so hard to say that word – “die?”)

So how do we handle the tears, the sadness.  “Write,” I say. And, unintentionally I did.  A young mother in the Conscious Business Owners coaching group of which I am a part, was querying her wanting to be with her young sons, concerned that her business would pull her away from that which was most important to her.

One of the other group members wrote: “For me personally, I think my resentment of not having outside contact would have been somehow translated into our relationships in a negative way. So find a balance that will work for you but remember there is another child who has needs–you.”

That sparked me to write my own response (see end of this post) and though the tears started welling up even more, I found I was in action… My number one RX for healing… or easing the moments.

1.  After I wrote the email, I decided it would make a good blog post and possibly turn into a podcast for the Become a Blogging Maniac course in which I am a participant.

2.  Reflecting on one of the things missing in the moment, I saw “family closeness”, so I called my son who lives 1/2 hour from me. Upon hearing my sadness he invited me to visit and my “daughter-in-love”, immediately got on the phone and compassionately said, “Come to dinner.” (Thank you twitter friend Mary Morris, marylmorris, for introducing me to the concept/phraseology of “daughters-in-love.” I have two.)

As I take each of these steps and more, I am grateful for the past and present blessings in my life.

If you are someone who is grieving the absence of a loved one, I invite you to also be in action with whatever will best occupy and forward you.  Be sure to look for that in your life for which you can be thankful.

And, if you are someone who is blessed to currently have everyone important to you in your life alive and well, I invite you to stop to make note of the memories you can add to your Treasure Chest of life and acknowledge them now.  One of my blessings is that I have so many beautiful messages Sam wrote to me.

Speaking of writing, I’m moved to include a treasured photographic memory, that brings back the warmth and comfort of our relationship.

Smiling at the memory – See PICTURE TO PONDER – Issue 108 for the story.

From my EMAIL REPLY (see explanation above) that triggered this post:

“For me, M, your response to S was ‘right on’.  I’m reminded of the times I used to say guiltily (those little self-sabotaging demons kicking in) that I wasn’t the “Milk and Cookies” Mom AND my sons turned out great!!! They are wonderful husbands, in marriages that are each loving and stable, and fathers to  4 wonderful, bright, loving children.

When my sons were very young, I was quite involved with numerous volunteer activities and  then went back to college, finishing two years in an art education program.  I would often take my boys to one of the studios when I went up for extra work.  I still have etchings (real ones on metal plates) that they did  when they were 5 and 8.

I recall my younger son complaining, when he wanted to throw some “guilt” at me, about the times he’d have to come home to make
his own lunch so he could run back to school to play kickball. (Doesn’t sound too tragic, does it, given he’s mentioning the “play” part also?)

Whenever guilt would kick in for me over the years, I would remind myself, and continue to do so, how well my/our sons turned out -
a tribute, I say, to the ultimate love and security that was in our home, with two loving parents who were comfortable in their own
skin (usually) with what they were doing for self-fulfillment, as well as familial fulfillment.

S, it certainly sounds like you have your husband behind and with you. THAT is the MOST IMPORTANT thing that your sons will
see.  In addition to all the love they are and will be getting, they will have the experience of two adults being true to themselves.

I am deeply missing my husband, and those years long gone, as I complete writing this.  And, I am grateful for the blessing Sam’s and my life was  together  and for the next-generation two loving families that we seeded.

Treasure these years, S, remembering to treasure yourself and your needs also.”

At the end of the 30-day Conscious Energy Shifts call this morning, Adela Rubio made a comment on Snorkeling and Scuba Diving. Because of my fears the couple of times I’ve snorkeled, it immediately resonated with me.

I responded by writing the following – To hear me read this, click on the arrow:

Snorkeling Vs. Scuba Diving

“Put on a suit. Go deeper,” said Adela.
See what’s available in scuba diving.

It seems to me that going deeper with scuba diving might feel safer than snorkeling. With scuba diving, I image a life line being there. With snorkeling, I’m on my own.

For me the challenge would be/is to move beyond the safety of the boat, even the side of the pool – the knowing that I can get to the side within seconds and be secure, grab on.

What is the fear of going past my self-imposed limits?

Fear of drowning? This seems odd since I sometimes say/think that my life has been fulfilled, is complete.

Fear of struggling, not being able to breathe? The head knows it’s simply one breath at a time. Relax into it. Maybe, it’s the body that knows this. The head kicks in with the noises, planting its negative seeds.

If so, I can simply be with my body. Trust it and snorkel beyond the boat to those spaces with other sea life even more beautiful than what’s closest to the boat.

I will create a challenge for myself and respond to it. I’ll practice in the pool (all the while hoping it stays cold here in Florida for another month or two) – snorkel/swimming down the center, not quite an easy distance to the side. I might also swim/snorkel across the deep end.

Simply thinking of this, tightens up my body. Fears kick in. Perhaps recalling the memory, 60 plus years ago, of learning to ride a bike can ease the concern. Certainly there must have been fear of falling, one which I ultimately conquered. For years after I had the freedom of the ride.

Deep breath. Exhale. Image the feeling of freely playing, dancing with the fish – the colors and the rhythms. Then take that back on land.

What would the feeling be, playing among the limitless sea of humans in natural environments – growing strong and free – full of spontaneous, authentic self-expression – an empowering dance of life? Ah, yes!

—-
PS – Where’s the life line? Do I need it? The life line is within – the trust. Trust that I can and trust there will be one person and/or a community to support and save me if I’m in trouble. Thank you.

© 2010 Sheila Finkelstein – See Photography and Transformation for more writing and photos

(Note the photograph above is not of ocean fish. Rather they are Koi fish in a pond in a Nature center. I show them here as representative of the color and movement to which I refer.)

Ponderings – Loneliness – Alone – New Year’s Eve 2009-10 

Preface: My two sons and their wives gave me the 70^th birthday gift of both families – including 1 granddaughter and three grandsons – being together between Christmas Eve and January 2. Seven of those days were spent in Orlando, Fl, sometimes all together, some days splitting up.  The plan was for us all to be together on 12/31 celebrating the entry of 2010.  In order not to be closed out from Magic Kingdom, the decision was made to leave for Disney, 20 minutes from where we were staying, at 6:30 AM.  I woke up at 4:00 AM and after thinking about it decided to stay back. The thought of 18 hours,  14 of them at least, on my feet standing on lines was too much.

I actually had a great day, rested, walked, stopped in on a party the resort was having.  On the way back, while taking boardwalk night photos, I got into a stimulating conversation with a passerby, on common interests – woman whose name was similar to mine.

Back in my room, I watched the “Ball Drop” on TV as 2010, a new decade, became reality.  I hugged myself lightly, remembering the 47 years my husband I embraced and kissed as the New Year unfolded. And then I recalled the “aloneness” and missing of the past 2 New Year’s Eves, celebrated at my son’s home. 

Though surrounded and supported I felt “left out”.  As 2008 and 2009 entered, I felt lonely/alone and something/someone was missing.  And, I suspect my feelings would have been the same, compounded, in the crowd at Magic Kingdom this year.

Instead, I felt full and satisfied, though still missing Sam.

And then the next day, periodically I found myself feeling sad and teary-eyed as I thought of, spoke of,   being “alone” on New Year’s Eve.

“ ‘Everyone celebrates’. New Year’s Eve is “supposed” to be ‘party time’ and you were left out.’” I suspect that underneath it all were the thoughts, “What will they think of me?” “Something is wrong with her,” and more….

I thus decided to write down the thoughts… those empowering ones I had during the day and night… all the while feeling content, even at the party.

Alone – Lonely – Is there a difference?

Being alone in a crowd. 
People dance,
They jump for joy. 

Where am I?  
Off in the distance,
on the sidelines

What holds me back, has me not want to participate?

All the “rules” I impose on myself. 

What rules are there about dancing?  What holds me back? 

Making a “fool” of myself?  What is a fool?

and then there was “the night”…

Alone on New Year’s Eve, as 2010 rolled in.  I was actually quite content, comfortable in my skin and my place in life right now.  The past two New Year’s eves without Sam were hard.  I was with one son, daughter-in-law, two grandchildren and their assorted guests both years and felt lonelier than being alone on 12/31/09.  The prior two years I recall so strongly feeling “Everyone has someone” and “I am alone”

If I were in the massive crowd at Disney, I suspect my feelings would have been the same.

I had an interesting walk from the party back to my room.  I was taking photos and a family came along.  The wife stayed to talk.  Her name is Heila, mine- Sheila without the “S”.  Someone on Adela Rubio’s Conscious Energy Shift call the next morning spoke of walking in nature looking for omens.  Was “Heila’ an omen for me​?…

What are the “s”s I could be dropping in my life? 
S – sh*t – the clutter I surround myself with… not quite… and the “baggage” I carry
S – sorry feelings
S – “shoulds” – definitely!

Consider replacing them with “Shalls”.

What to keep?– my Soul, my Sense of worth,  my “Self”  The Self who Shines. 

Maybe the omen wasn’t so much about dropping the “S”…. rather acknowledging and honoring it.  Who would I be without myself?

So back to loneliness – aloneness – Find the beauty in it.  Acknowledge it.  Let it be and note that there are multi-dimensions. 

Remember when the “shoulds” are removed… the concern with other’s judgments…. really our own chatter and assumptions… all that remains is the beauty of myself/ourselves.

I am the one with whom I live…. how great it and my life are when I honor me and am totally and completely satisfied with that.