Monthly Archives: April 2021

Family, Feelings, Garden, Memories, Minnesota, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

There is a road, no simple highway…

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Ostara and the Moon of Mourning

Saturday gratefuls: Kate wanting to visit the fields of Heather around Inverness. SeoAh and her smile. The Grateful Dead shabbat last night. Ripple.* Mourning in the Mountains with CBE and CBE. Kate breathing freely, walking with purpose once again.

Sparks of Joy: Vaccines. Mobile Critter Care.

retired at last

There are ripples in the still waters of my soul. Kate. She lives there now for me, an eternal companion. Today and tomorrow. She reminds me of the love we shared, the way we were together, the way I am thanks to her. And I carry her forward in Malkut. Waiting someday to travel to the keter, the crown of creation’s endless motion, with her as a companion.

Irony. Having a sore in my mouth, above the left canine. Hurts to eat. What Kate experienced for at least three years. All the time. No wonder she became food aversive. Add nausea to that pain. Awful. The feeding tube gave her at least two more years of life even though it created problems as it solved them.

What will linger longest for me about her last hospital stay is sign language. Some of you may remember Kate learned sign language when she lost her voice not long after we married. While in bed, her speaking requiring extra breaths for a full sentence, we began signing I love you: little finger, index finger, and thumb extended. I would sign and place the hand with the sign on my heart.

While on the drive over to Evergreen Memorial to complete the paperwork for her cremation, I thought about family, our immediate family. The counted cross stitch she made, the one that took her three years and two continents to complete, is in Arts and Crafts style. It has mostly green vines on a beige background. Near the top are three words: Love is Enough.

I want this to be our family motto. I will have t-shirts made for each of us with her completed work printed on them. With a katydid. Kate had cloth labels made with a katydid and the words Katy did it.

The works of her hands cover so many beds, hang on so many walls, rest on various chairs and couches. Carry things from here to there. She loved sewing for specific people and she loved giving them what she had made.

She walks today on the most ancientrail of all: a road, no simple highway between the dawn and the dark of night. I know she travels it unafraid, curious. Open. Glad. Filled with Joy.

Ok, yes. My metaphysical honesty makes me add, how the hell do I know? I don’t know. But if there is a road, and if Kate is on it, her keen mind and open heart will serve her well.

I’m sleeping well. Eating ok with the exception of crowding food over to the right side of my mouth to avoid the sore. It will pass. Sadness and distraction still travel with me because I’m on a road, no simple highway, between life with Kate and life without her.

A lot of grieving happened as Kate’s condition worsened, as we both acknowledged it, said out loud where her journey would take her. As it has. I grieved her loss with her, saying what I would miss about her, how much I would miss her.

She reminded me that she was losing me, too. Oh, yeah.

Not sure how long this will go on. As long it must, I suppose.

 

 

*”There is a road, no simple highway
Between the dawn and the dark of night
And if you go no one may follow
That path is for your steps alone

Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow”

Family, Judaism, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

Post remnant from Thursday

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Osatara and the Moon of Mourning

Thursday gratefuls: Kate, always Kate. Her memorial service and each of those who attended. Each person who has Kate in their heart right now. Ruth, who offered to stay with me last night and the night before. And, did. Jon, who saw Kate’s spirit before she died. Gabe. Kep and Rigel. The Woolly Mammoths.

Sparks of Joy: Ritual and its healing power. Sitting shiva. SeoAh’s arrival.

Wednesday I drove down the hill on an icy Shadow Mountain Drive. Evergreen Memorial Park. Finish the details of Kate’s cremation. When I left, as I realized suddenly what I had done, I had to stop, put my hand out and steady myself on the door jamb. Goodbye to the earthly container, the thing of Malkut.

Kate has returned to the cycle of life, ready to join the upcoming surge of spring and the growth of Beltane. As you, as I, move through this turning of the Great Wheel, she can walk with us, point out the energy and the power from her side of the veil. The gardener in her delights in this time and I delight in it with her.

As her condition deteriorated, I bought two sets of emergency call lights, synched them and place them around the house and up in the loft. We never used them. This morning, when I came up to the loft to write this, the receiver next to my computer blinked off and on, blue light flickering. I plan to let it blink until it runs out of energy.

We decided that I would I sit shiva, go through the mourning rituals. And, I am. There’s a lot about it that I don’t understand, most of the rules I don’t know, but CBE will guide me through it. Rabbi Jamie and my buddy Alan Rubin.

The torn garment, or torn ribbon, represents rending of life by the fact of death. I’m choosing a black ribbon to tear.

Not sure whether we’ll do seven nights (shiva means seven), probably not, but on Sunday night there will be a shiva minyan, requiring at least 10 members. A service very like the one done on Wednesday will be held.

Of all the statements made about Kate over the last week, the one that touched my heart most came from Lisa Deutsch, a CBE member and member of the Thursday mussar group Kate and I attended, “She was,” Lisa wrote, “what you would call a good Jew.” That makes me so happy because Kate considered her Jewishness a primary fact of her life, one she was only able to honor fully after we joined CBE.

 

Family, Feelings, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

She was joyful

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Ostara and the Moon of Mourning

Friday gratefuls: Kate. Seoah. Ruth. Important women in my life. CBE, our once and future life together. Woolly Mammoths. Snow. Once more, deep. Grief and its sad currents. Evergreen Memorial Park. Kep, who had to get up early today.

Sparks of Joy: The card from Carol Horger. “Kate brought yellow flowers to our class to remind us of joy. She was joyful.” Yes.

Mother’s Day, 2016

Life has changed, Kate gone. It’s like an unassembled puzzle with familiar pieces, yet a new picture waiting to emerge. Don’t know how long it will take to put it back together. But I’m confident. A new way of being. One informed by who I am and who Kate was and is in my heart. Lies ahead, is underway. Days pass and the reality of her absence becomes clearer, more solid. Less fear and pain, more memories and consolation.

I stood at the window yesterday, looking out over our driveway, and felt Kate watching the snow with me. She loved the mountains and watching the snow come down among the Lodgepole pines. Me, too. Her eyes and mine, one.

As I hear more about her, from so many, I wonder how I found such a remarkable woman. How she found me. The world has its ways of bringing together improbable matches. Ours was one.

Yet it fed both of us. Lifted us up, made us more than we might have been. Her whisper in my heart’s ear will not vanish. She will read my new novels as I write them. Admire my amateur paintings, encourage me to take on new challenges. Her body is gone, but her heart lives on, synching as it always has with mine.

She was my true love, the one who knew me better than I knew myself.

I miss her. I love her. I’m so happy she entered my life. Grateful.

Family, Judaism, Third Phase

Rachel’s Obituary

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Ostara and Kate’s Moon

Kate Olson has died. She was a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a pediatrician, a gardener, lover and mother of dogs, a bee keeper, a quilter, a needleworker, a master cook, and crossword puzzle completer.

She was also Rachel since her early 30’s after her conversion to Judaism at Temple Israel in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

Kate died April 14th after a long illness, over three years, wore out her body.

Kate loved me (her husband) with a love that made me a better person and she told me my love for her made her a better person. No marriage can wish for more.

A tribute from a friend who got Kate right:

“She seemed fearless, walked to her own drummer and if she wanted to do something she damn well did it.”

As her long illness pushed past her body’s ability to cope, she chose to move to hospice care. Her choice. A brave one, someone said. Yes, it was brave, and yet it was typical.

I will miss her at a level and in a way no words can express. The joy she brought me will be a constant resource when times are tough. Again.

 

 

 

 

Family, Judaism

Rachel

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Ostara and Kate’s Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Kate, always Kate. The washing machine. Food from CBE. Tara last night with great Japanese. Schmira. Evergreen Mortuary. Zoom. Coffee. Rest.

Sparks of Joy: Snow and cold today. Kate’s favorite.

Kate, costumed for Purim March, 2018

 

Schmira. Folks from CBE now watch over Kate’s body in an ancient tradition that guards or watches (schmira) until burial or cremation. One at a time, 24 hours. Her soul lingers until then and needs companionship. That’s the idea. I think. Reassuring and humanizing this wait no matter the reason. Humans and religion. A wonder.

Kate was a Jew of the heart, I told Rabbi Jamie the other day. She walked into Temple Israel in Minneapolis, attended a service officiated by Rabbi Max Shapiro and “I felt at home.” She was in her thirties. This lead to a full conversion, a two year process in which she studied with Rabbi Shapiro.

When we moved to the mountains, our last great adventure together, we happened on a class, “King David”, taught by Bonnie Houghton, then a rabbinical student. At that that class, over five years ago, we met Tara and Marilyn Saltzman. They are our friends today. In fact, Tara brought food for our gathering last night.

Congregation Beth Evergreen became a locale where, for the first time, Kate could live as a Jew in her own synagogue. She became a trusted and loved friend to many.

 

Baruch Dayan Emet,

With heavy hearts, we share the sad news of Kate Olson’s passing.

Kate had been a member of Congregation Beth Evergreen since 2016, was an active member of the Mussar class, and served on the board of directors.

We extend condolences to her family. Details about arrangements are forthcoming.

 

 

 

 

 

Family, Health

Kate.

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Ostara and Kate’s Moon

Monday gratefuls: Kate.

Sparks of Joy: Kate

Oh. How can I write this? Kate is dead. She died a peaceful death at 12:20 am this morning. Her sister Sarah was with her.

Soulmate. So over used as to be a silly notion. But we were each others. Loving into each others best life. Living into each others best life.

I’m so, so sad. Tears right there. Head spinning, denying, wishing. But, knowing.

The pain in my heart throbs. I ache, for her, for our life together. I rejoice for her peace. She can breathe freely now. No more nausea or fatigue. Her weight no longer an issue.

A tribute from a friend who got Kate right:

She seemed fearless, walked to her own drummer and if she wanted to do something she damn well did it.

 

Family, Health, Plants, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, The Move, Third Phase

Tough

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Ostara and Kate’s Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Kate’s clear head, her choices. Death with dignity as an option. The Ancient Friends. Rabbi Jamie. CBE. Sleep. Kep and Rigel.

Sparks of Joy: Sarah calling the Long Term Care folks. A Golden with his head out the window of a pickup truck.

I know about true love. And, about bad love. Kate and I lived and loved into each other, saying yes. Saying of course you can. Of course we can. In bad love you hear and say no, you can’t do that. I don’t want to. Not now.

We bring out the depth of each others soul. Kate’s needle gifts, her love of Mother Earth, Flowers, Vegetables, Dogs, Fruit. Grandchildren. Sons. My writing. My love for Mother Earth, Flowers, Vegetables, Dogs, Fruit. Grandchildren. Sons. Not hidden, not wished for, but acted upon.

Supporting each other, even when the world might not agree. Have 7 Wolfhounds and two Whippets? Sure. Put in an orchard? Of course. Go around Latin America. No question. Move to Colorado? Not only that, let’s go up in the mountains. End life on your own terms? Yes, if that’s what you need.

This ancientrail of human life may have come close to an end for Kate. She wants to consider death with dignity. I imagine she’ll choose it. Does it make me scream inside? Yes. Does it make me sad? Yes. Will I support her? Yes, as in all things.

This is stark. It means a time certain, not an ambiguous, drawn out process. But, the end is the same. And, it’s coming for Kate, as it is for us all. Just sooner for her.

I cried a lot last night. Sat up with friends talking. Then, slept well. No anxiety. This is sad. Not unexpected. No details yet. It’s not decided decided. But I know Kate. Once she broached this idea, her mind was close made up.

It makes sense to me. She was told she’d have to wear the bipap at least at night from now on. She hates it. It’s intrusive, invasive, and claustrophobic. There is no hope she’ll come off of it. Also, she’s exhausted from a two and a half year struggle with first this, then that.

She’s so frail, her breathing labored, her movement restricted to bed, mostly. No magic bullet. No procedure. No medications left.

What would you do?

Family, Health

Off to rehab

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Ostara and the Ovid Moon of Metamorphoses

Friday gratefuls: Kate. Sarah. Nurses, techs, respiratory techs, Beth at case management, docs from New West. rehab. Sleep.

Sparks of Joy: A new class starting today with Rabbi Jamie. Kep and Rigel chasing the bunny all across the yard this morning. He got away.

 

 

Sarah has helped me get the Long Term Care application underway. I don’t do well on phone calls with people I can’t hear well, who expect precise quick answers to questions I didn’t understand.

Found myself saying, this isn’t my strength a lot this week. Phone calls. Putting in applications for much of anything. Assembling items like the new bedside table for Kate.

Sarah’s husband, Jerry, is the artist who painted the two large paintings that we have. He builds everything, from their house to a wine cave to a greenhouse and several interesting tables. Jon, too. Ruth, too. Me, not so much.

If you want an essay, a short story, a sermon, a novel, give me a call. If you wanna talk, have someone listen. Yeah. Provide nursing care or feed your dogs. That’s me. Organize to fight oppressive landlords, cool climate change, fund unemployment benefits. In my younger days, for sure.

Anyhow, nice to have help.

I’m dull right now. Too little sleep, even with Sarah’s aid. Too much concern about Kate. Too many trips in and out to the hospital. Too long in the saddle.

Kate probably goes to a new facility today, a rehab place that will work on her walking and on climbing stairs. I hope it helps her. After that, home with palliative care. Probably a week.

 

Family, Health

Kate. Me.

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Ostara and the Ovid Moon of Metamorphoses

Monday gratefuls: Kate. Ruth, now 15. Gabe. Jon. Sarah. Anne. BJ. The Johnson/Olson clan. A survival knife.

Sparks of Joy: Ruth in her birthday tiara. The meal she cooked.

A stand for our honey extractor. 2011.

Gonna be a short one.

In today to see Kate and her docs. Sarah stayed the night. Beginning to discuss discharge for Kate. She wants to come home, so we’ll figure out what’s necessary for that to happen.

Even with two nights sleep at home I’m knackered, pushing the edges of emotional and physical exhaustion. Something has to give for me. I need a rest.

Contradictory movements, I know. Committed to figuring out a solution. I’m no good to her if I’m running on empty.

 

Family, Great Wheel, Health, Holidays, Judaism, Myth and Story, Plants, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

Easter Morning

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Ostara and the Ovid Moon of Metamorphoses

Sunday gratefuls: Broad spectrum antibiotics. Kate’s will. Jamie Bernstein. Easter and Passover and Spring. Friends. Rabbi’s. Countryfolk. Mountains. Dogs.

Sparks of Joy: Kate’s blood cultures negative for infection. Exhaustion, but exhaustion held in the care and concern of so many others.

Kate at Mama’s Fish House

Been thinking, a lot, about the holidays: Ostara, Easter, Passover. How they hold the wonder and awe of Spring and apply it to our human lives. On Maundy Thursday (no, I never remember what that means) Kate was in severe crisis. She had a crowd of nurses, physician’s assistants, respiratory therapists, a pulmonologist. All working carefully, quickly, urgently.

I had a hushed conversation in the hallway with the physician’s assistant and Dr. Fenton, the pulmonologist, about resuscitation.  Asking hard questions. Trying to be true to the situation, to her wishes, to the possible.

She survived the crisis, her blood pressure down and her breathing more stable. She moved to the 10th floor where she could be treated with nurses who work with more complicated cases.

Her situation got better, but death still seemed as plausible as recovery. On Good Friday, her lucidity returned, she made it off the bipap (a small mask that is actually a treatment for the pneumonia, among other things), and her white cell count continued to come down.

Yesterday we found her blood borne infection was gone. Though it still needs a four to six week bout of IV antibiotics to make it sure it doesn’t resurface. She passed her swallow study so she can drink and eat. Prognosis still guarded, but less so now.

Her friend, Jamie, reported she looks good. Jamie stayed all night with her.

It’s Easter morning.