Posted on by Julie Deziel

Darkness Can Show You the Light

A black curtain was pulled across our world on August 12, 2020. Our son-in-law passed away from an undiagnosed heart condition while sleeping. How is it that a 32-year-old man who is the best dad and a loving, goofy husband be gone in a literal heartbeat? Darkness settled over a community he loved living in, settled over his firefighter and law enforcement XBox-loving friends, his adoring family and to pull back that dark curtain or crawl out from underneath the heavy darkness shines the reality that Geoff is gone. It sears so deep and sets the pain again and the curtain is much simpler pulled back and the darkness just seems so much more comforting.

Our little world has experienced an extreme amount of loss in a years time…a father, a brother, a grandfather, and now a “son”-in-law. It is difficult to find the so-called “God’s plan” when you seem to be continually grieving. It is difficult to simply grieve when you cannot finish the process of one before you begin the next. Then to be slammed with the sudden loss of a daddy the anger creeps in from behind that curtain and lays on top of the darkness adding more weight to the whole scenario. Where is the answer within sense of the tragedy? Right around the corner I am most certain our world will crumble again. Hope seems to have become a most distant friend as the trials of life have taken control.

How does anyone find their way out of the darkness? Is it possibly with The old adage “time heals?” Sometimes there are circumstances that are ever healed and death is one I believe. I believe that you learn to live with the new normal. It may take time and a lot of grit to be able to pull back the black curtain and the blanket of anger that lays on top of us. Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute or breath by breath and admitting you are “horrible” and that is okay. Each is lightening the load…hopefully pushing back the next rush of darkness.

There is a song by Disturbed, “The Light” that talks about these same things. (The link to the video is attached).

“An unforgivable tragedy. The answer isn’t where you think you’d find it. Prepare yourself for the reckoning. For when your world seems to crumble again. Don’t be afraid, don’t turn away. You’re the one who can redefine it. Don’t let hope become a memory. Let the shadow permeate your mind and reveal the thoughts that we’re tucked away. So that the door can be opened again. Within your darkest memories lies the answer if your dare to find it. Don’t let hope become a memory.

When you think all is forsaken. Listen to me now. You need never feel broken again. Sometimes darkness can show you the light, beautiful.” (Dan Donegan, David Draiman, Kevin Churko, Mike Wengren)

So for now we will grieve the incredibly hard loss of Geoff and the loss of Isak having his favorite person; his daddy, and Adair losing the love her life. For now we will hide behind the curtain as fellow firefighters who will miss his antics at the fire hall and all his friends he was blessed to have that will remember his goofiness and spirited opinions. As family we will allow ourselves the grace to be angry to know this is not a dream we will not wake up from and have to face every day. We will wait for that “plan” and trust it. For now we will wait for the darkness to show us the light occasionally.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_LypjOTTH6E&feature=share

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A Job Well Done

My grandfather Lonny, was a farmer for many years of his life. They had many cows that they milked and tended. They put up hay, grew and combined corn and wheat. His wife cooked for her family and farmhands. His two children did the normal chores about the farm. He has seen a change from horse and 2 bottom plow to large combines in his years. When they sold the farm he become a salesman for numerous companies but his most coveted was as a Culligan Salesman having won numerous sales awards for the company. He was awarded “World’s Greatest Salesman” through them numerous times. Later in life he worked as a senior companion visiting those that were alone or needed time out of the house, he absolutely loved that job. He had to give that job up when he no longer could drive. It broke his heart to say goodbye to his clients who became his friends. He then became a receiver in the program and treasured two of his companions-Merle and Doug. He would tell anyone who he would visit to never complain about work because “one day you won’t be able to and you will wish you could.” He would say if he had his driver’s license he would still be taking the elderly out or simply enjoying a cup of coffee with them.

This man had a memory that was spot on. He was a historian of not only his life but so many other lives. It was always a treat to sit and listen to his stories. As he lay in his bed at the nursing home that became home for the last three months wondering if his days were dwindling he recounted so many aspects of his life. Four days before he died was laying in the hospital he was able to mouth all the words of the Gettysburg Address while I read it to him and then recite out loud a Longfellow poem “A Village Blacksmith” that he learned in 7th grade.

As he had a sudden illness on Tuesday he had to make a decision in his care. He spoke with his doctor and myself and being of sound, EXTREMELY sound mind he chose to do nothing and move towards comfort care knowing that he may only have hours. He had goals, plans, and recipes to cook in the very near future. He was hoping to move to assisted living from the nursing home in February. He had a new blanket he was saving for when he went home, be it his own home or assisted living. Simply, there were many things ahead for the soon-to-be 100-year-old man.

How does anyone take in the words that life will soon be over for them and move forward to acceptance? As the granddaughter to watch the struggle I must say was simply heartbreaking. I needed him to be at peace. I needed him to be comfortable. I needed him to feel loved. He set the pace, the tone, and the rules. He had total charge of his death as he did his whole life. What an incredible honor of be able to give him that. So in his time we reminisced and he put his affairs all in order. We planned how to carry out his wishes after death. We cried a lot about what was to come and most importantly we laughed. I heard stories I never heard before. I saw spark in his eyes when he talked about my grandmother and dancing with her. He was sorry he would not celebrate his 100th birthday on February 21st but looked forward to celebrating with his wife and friends but more than anything he was waiting for Mary, his daughter, to come get him. He knew she would come.

While I waited from Tuesday morning for him on his terms to leave this earth to join Mary to walk into eternity I stayed by his side. He asked to never be alone. He was always there for me in my life and I would honor him at the end of his by sitting and holding his hand, talking in his ear, playing country music in his ear, or rubbing his legs until he took his last quiet breath holding a can a beer the staff had placed for him just the way he wanted. I walked him outside with the funeral home at 0115 into the crisp air wishing I could wrap him in his coat where 6 days prior him and I walked out to the car to go on an outing and he pulled his coat a little tighter around him in the cold. I was sad for me, oh so sad, but I was so happy for him. He had completed his job and made it home with his new blanket and seeing all those that loved him immensely and the one person he truly was excited to see again was his mother who he had not seen for 95 years. He did it. He did it his way, in his time, his way and very peaceful. Job well done.

So, Boppy through all your hard work and losses you had in life, the times of loneliness, the times of joy and laughter and through the last 5 days of your most wonderful life and as I promised you “I am happy for you”, “I will not forget your memories” and “We will be okay” I will live your rule in life…just have to take it as it comes.

Alonzo Benbo 2/21/1920 – 2/8/2020 Until I see you again. Dolly

Posted on by Julie Deziel · 1 Comment

Wallflower

This picture was taken this fall on a peaceful walk around our yard and I took some time on the dock and this is what I was privy to see. The wind was not blowing and there were a few ducks making ripples nearby and a few seagulls finding summer. I did not need to be have someone with me to show me through the beauty or experience it with me. I did not have to share the beauty with another soul. It was a moment of silence in which I was simply regenerating my soul.

I grew up being “that” girl that was laughed at because she turned beet red when she was asked a question in school or had to give a presentation in front of a group. It would send me into an anxiety-ridden panic for days if I knew it was coming up. If I could silently fade into the walls i would have done it in a heartbeat. The thought of being a wallflower was welcomed by my psyche.

Push through to being a mother and grandmother and being in a job as a 911 dispatcher; needing a type A personality no doubt. The shyness within me is hidden behind a few masks or two. I have no choice but to talk at work. Often times I talk nearly 10 hours straight; 10 HOURS straight. Many times it is to people I do not even know but need my help. It is not normal talking. It is stressful talking. Then comes those few moments of silence and someone wants to speak. Many can understand. But the shy, quiet, introvert wants to live inside herself for awhile…to try to remain alive. Silence my ears.

Recently I was told that I appear to come off cold or chilly at times. I need to work on making eye contact with another. This person does not understand silence. They do not understand another’s need for live-sustaining quiet. At the drop of a hat we go from 0-100mph and the peace prepares the mind and soul for what is to come. When did it become a bad thing to just need a little down time with thoughts and quiet without it being that something is wrong? I am 56 years of age and now have to change who I am or do I? Is it so bad to be me in the end?

“Solitude is for me a fount of healing which makes my life worth living. Talking is often a torment for me, and I need many days of silence to recover from the futility of words.”

~Carl Jung

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Nothing New Around Here

“Nothing new around here” are the words I heard today with a stop at the nursing home. I stopped with a few things my grandfather enjoys and to hear how his weekend had been. “Pretty quiet” and “I napped a lot” were the most descriptive he could find for me. It was not the most upbeat visit we had since he entered the home a few weeks ago.

My grandfather will be 100 years old towards the end of February. He has been a widower since 1988 and until the beginning of November has lived on his own in his own home. There have been health scares and struggles through the years but he has always battled back. Through it all though his mind has remained sharp as a tack. As a friend recently reflected, “Don’t tell Lonny anything you don’t want anyone to know as he will remember it forever.” Well it is true. He remembers more than I do.

His goal in life has been to live to be 100. Four to six weeks ago though he became ill and in his mind gave up on that goal and simply wanted to go home and die. We as a family looked at options for him to fulfill his dream of being in his own home and seeing family and allowing him to feel peace whenever his wife and daughter who wait for him on the other side would take his hand home. There came a point when he had to take an ambulance to the hospital and more skilled care was needed as his weakening body was not allowing his sharp as a tack mind that option to be in the comfort of his home.

Aiding a loved one into a “home” other than their own is a tumultuous mental and emotional journey. Besides all the paperwork that needs to be done, the physical work of moving belongings, safeguarding their home, there is the sadness of watching them lose their independence right before your eyes. The opportunity to walk to the kitchen to have a slice of bread with butter is now replaced with asking and then waiting for it to be brought to you. The normal seasoning of your food becomes cafeteria-like but you are too kind to ask for sugar as there is a diabetic sitting at the table with you so you eat it bland. The smells of home are lost to a facility laundry room.

Today the diabetic table mate will no longer be eating with my grandfather. He now eats with his loved ones who have gone on before him. Maybe my grandfather will ask for sugar or kindly accept the food the way it is cooked and say “thank you.” But for today there was nothing new going on around there. He napped a few times and waited for me to visit. He will wait for me to come on Wednesday with his mail and for his friend Doug to come and visit.

I hear you Boppy. I see you and how sad you are that you are not in your home. I am sad for you. For now though “nothing new going on around here” is keeping you safe and allowing you to gain strength everyday. Enjoy supper and I will see you Wednesday.

Posted on by Julie Deziel

Jump For Joy

Oh the joy of summer. The warm breezes blowing across the green grass. The sounds of kids chasing the sun to stay above the horizon just a little longer. The excitement of heading to the lake and the screaming race down the hill to the dock throwing off the shorts and shirt and the unbridled jump into the shock of the cool water. This is what the kids have waited for all those long spring days behind the desk of math and English classes. Summer anticipation is within sight…all that excitement and joy is just a bell ring away.

I am currently reading a book I received for my birthday from my husband, “The Second Mountain” by David Brooks. This book basically has said, “Julie this is what you were trying to figure out in your life right at this moment.” True story. In my 56 years of life I “believed” if I fulfilled certain requirements I would find happiness. I also equated the words joy and happiness together. I had my four beautiful children and they have brought me great joy along with my grandchildren. I found happiness in EMS and 911 dispatching, in friendships and other relationships. Climbing this mountain with these “joys” were all I would need because in our society culture pushes the belief that I should be happy with what I have attained on my climb. Well, yes I am/was happy. I met my culture goal…happiness and happiness is great! Granted I slipped off the side of it a few times. I have tumbled all the way to the bottom and was lodged in crevices for periods of times but I found my way out and climbed that same mountain, my mountain. I have reached the top of my mountain. I sat at the top of mountain I look out at the view…my life and have come to realize that there is more. There is more joy. There is more life. There is another mountain…the “second mountain.”

On the second mountain that I did not even know I was climbing was myself finding a life more centered on meaning and purpose. It is not a life of comparison or one of expectation, or a life that expresses prestige. It is a view of personal fulfillment in my marriage and family, to my faith, and to my well-being with a mental border. As I climb this second mountain I am finding true joy. As David Brooks writes in his book, “Happiness tends to be individual; we measure it by asking, ‘Are you happy?’ Joy tends to be self-transcending. Happiness is something you pursue; joy is something that rises up unexpectedly and sweeps over you. Happiness comes from accomplishments; joy comes from offering gifts. Happiness fades; we get used to the things that used to make us happy. Joy doesn’t fade. To live with joy is to live with wonder, gratitude, and hope.”

The excited thirteen-year-old runs and jumps off the dock and at that point she is committed. She plugs her nose and screams at the top of her lungs and jumps for joy into lake. Just as she is committed to that jump I am committed to all the joy I have through the wonder, gratitude and hope found through my transformation on my mountain.

Are you happy or do you have joy?

Posted on by Julie Deziel

Hide and Seek

17, 18, 19, 20. Ready or not here I come. The childhood game of Hide and Seek. Who has not played it as a child, as a parent and even as a grandparent. The giggles of the hidden as the seeker gets so close and then being so very quiet, even holding breaths so the hunter cannot find that elusive hiding spot.

A few months ago I was standing in front of the mirror and I could not see myself. The sharp defining lines that ensured my hair was just right to the assurance that my clothes were matched or tucked just right not to show too many imperfections had completely disappeared. It seemed I even lost a mask or two I wore dependent upon the day.

Who I am seems to have been lost. Is it that I am too busy and rushed? Is it that I am simply stressed? Can it be that I cannot face the fact I have aged and do not recognize the face that shows wrinkles and trying to hide the fact that I am getting older? If I look I can find the blond hair that I spend much too much time and energy on so it looks just right. I see the blue eyes of an older person that are ringed by signs of her middle age. I see a smile that her husband puts on her face every day. I see a woman standing there who has so much on her shoulders and in her heart. I blink though and I cannot see her…the lines again are blurred.

I am lost in the anger and the frustration that I allowed something so evil to enter my life through actions of antagonism, belittlement, and intimidation. I allowed another to overpower my strengths and discount me to that of a small child that sends me running to a place of hiding; a place where I attempt to feel safe. He was able to creep through and crack the lines of who I am and blur the image of myself. He may not have the face of who I envisioned Satan to be but he is just as evil; a devil in sheep’s clothing. Just as Satan hid in pretty clothing, I have hid myself. I hush myself so no one hears me. I may peek out from the corner and look and see if it is safe to come out and try to smooth the lines of the reflection of myself. I may put on a stray mask I have laying around so my demeanor is not in question. One thing though is my hair will look good and will be sure I am watching, listening. This time though I am seeking. Shhh just know…”I know more than you think. I just don’t say anything.”

Posted on by Julie Deziel

Rock On

As a 911 dispatcher we are perceived to be strong type-A personality types. We answer that phone by the second ring and make extremely fast decisions in some of the most tragic moments of other’s lives. We attempt to deal with these calls so they do not follow us home. We appear to be strong, a rock; handling it all with ease; nothing can shake us.

My surroundings were thrown into chaos and all the dust around me was stirred up. At times I felt I could not see through the darkness. My world was rocked. It was shook to its core in the last month in that same environment that I feel my strongest while taking calls on another’s worst day. The walls of my life that project a strong, capable woman were shaken so hard that it left a shell of woman that I do not even know. I feel I am lost to who I am and it is scary. I believe I gave power to another person who i have no relationship with seems impossible. To allow another to intimidate and defeat me is almost humiliating.

I am rocked each time they walk into the room…rock me until my heart is beating close to 120 bpm. Rock me until my breathing is deep and fast, until I am sweaty, until the room seems to spin. The core of who I am has forever been changed.

I will bounce back but I will at times relive what was done to me. I will feel those icky feelings of post-traumatic stress. I will have to face the monster who made me feel unsafe regularly. But…I will rock on. I will put on my mask and simply pretend that I am okay because that is what those of us who are strong rocks in our line of work do. It is expected…for a rock is strong. It does not break.

Rock on my friend, rock on.

Posted on by Julie Deziel

In The Hood

It is chilly outside this morning. There still remains some of the snow even after a warmer day yesterday. It is still a little over a week until Thanksgiving so it is expected that more snow will fall this season and snowbanks will envelope the sides of the road. Any leaves that are hanging on will surely give up in the wind and roll across the snow filled yards where green grass was present just a week ago. How quickly this street changed. This is the street I grew up on and standing out there brought back many memories that brought a smile to my face. Was it just yesterday that:

My grandparents bought us new bikes for Christmas and mine had sissy bars and a white basket and I loved it.

We were only allowed to ride our bikes around one block. Did our parents truly think we would follow that rule?

We walked from our Carmen Addition home to the Woods Addition for piano lessons and never thought twice about being snatched up by a “bad” person.

We would go to the outdoor pool downtown almost every day and stay all day and swim. No parents, just us kids enjoying our summer weekdays with our friends.

We were playing “Annie, Annie Over” at our garage or “Kiss or Kill” with neighborhood kids.

Where we rushed everyday to the warming house to get our skates on and skating and hanging out long after the street lights came on.

Kids were running in and out of each other’s houses getting permission to go here or there.

We thought we were rich receiving an allowance of .25 each Saturday and rushing to Sadie’s grocery store a block and a half down to get a little brown bag full of candy.

The streets were full of kids on their bikes and the yards were just as full of kids playing football or hide and seek. A car passing by certainly had to look extra hard to ensure there was not a child running nearby. Street hockey players ruled over traffic. There was a constant sound of laughter and slamming back doors of kids running out of them.

The street is quiet today. I heard the wind blow and a car drove by at a good clip; no child to watch out for. No sleds or leftover bikes from the last ride. Sadie’s is gone and no warming house or ice rink. Just as I grew up and my life changed for me, it did the same in the old neighborhood. How I wish the nice warm weather could stay and the beauty of summer and the laughter of the children in the yards, swimming pools, ice rinks, and in the streets could be heard from morning to nightfall.

The house on 4th Avenue S has changed, I have grown older, the neighborhood is not the same, nor am I. In my mind though the memories remain clear and bring such joy to my heart.

Life in the hood…oh to be young again just for a day!

Posted on by Julie Deziel · 1 Comment

Shake It Off

When a racer hits the track he aims for the lead where he can see the checkered flag quite clearly at the end of the race. At the end of the night there is little dust and mud to shake off and you are ready for the next race. Track prep lays down enough, and at times too much water that aids in avoiding a dust storm. When you are in the back of the pack and traveling nearly 70mph not being able to see the car in front of you or alongside you is a recipe for catastrophe. Those of us who drive in the upper Midwest know what decreased visibility is like in the middle of January when snow falls and the winds blow at 35mph lending to zero or near-zero visibility. White knuckle driving and many prayers lead the way and before we head out on the road the next day we have to dust off all the snow left behind. If only…we could dust off all the yuck in life.

There has been an increase in the recognition in first responder suicide. It is a sad fact in this line of work. This extends from fire to law enforcement to EMS to dispatchers. It is a difficult world to walk through. Each line has its own adversities and none of them should be diminished over the other. The aspects of the job that each hold are arduous enough but are compounded even more by outside components.

We all know life is full of struggles. Being an adult is strenuous and there are rough roads to travel and at times it is that white knuckle ride. There seems at times you will not see the light through the darkness of bills, familial struggles, loneliness and then we pile on a call a horrific car accident or an elderly woman who lost her husband and then a bullying co-worker whose life goal seems to be to belittle those around them, maybe a co-worker who is unhappy at his or her position and lays it at the feet of others in the way they treat them and oh yes the toxic people. Do you have an elderly family member that needs additional care that wears you down? Finding self-care is simply impossible and the shoulders cannot hold it all. I have found in my years of work in this, yes it can be, rewarding line of work it seems you need to be hardened and do not or should not show your “weak” side. All of these have been whipped together for that recipe for catastrophe.

It is a sad story to see these stories every day and the families affected. I do not know the answer to help everyone in that dark place. I believe that together we can hopefully lessen the struggle and make the track in life not so dusty, not just in these lines of work, but in life by simply…

Being respectful

Saying “hello” because you want to, not because you are the only two in the hall

Do not dismiss another due to their sex, race, political view, or religion

Just be kind

Forgive often

Love today, love tomorrow

Share laughs

Listen and accept

Hug more

Never should it be “suck it up, buttercup” and absolutely never should it be “shake it off” and pushed off to the side. Find someone, someplace where the darkness is not allowed to fully encompass you. I know I no longer want to read another statistic. My heart hurts enough.

Oh…and bring your dispatcher more chocolate (he/she really does like your company)

Posted on by Julie Deziel

Did That Really Happen?

Ten years ago at this time of year we had supported our mother’s decision to end treatment against ovarian cancer and enter hospice. We did not know a time frame that we would be blessed with her earthly presence and treasured every moment we had with her, every conversation, every touch, simply her presence. Ten years ago I was turning 45 years old and facing the actual reality that my mother was not going to be in my life much longer. I remember asking myself during those days “Is this really happening?”

I consider myself a nostalgic person. I am “that” kind of mom that has Christmas ornaments made from my young children saved in my Christmas stuff. I have birthday and anniversary cards tucked in my hope chest that my daughters would say, “Why did she save these?” if they have to go through my things one day. I am certainly not a hoarder (that would involve having a mess and chaos in my house and God forbid we have that haha) but there are those things I just cannot find within me to take to the garbage can just yet.

Besides holding onto those material things I tend to take and heap many occurrences in my life into my imaginary backpack and carry them along my journey in life. I would assume many have the same backpack; some lighter, some much heavier. I am very territorial about my burden I carry. I do not want to give it to anyone to carry for me and I certainly do not want to leave it behind for anyone to open up and see what I carry inside. The contents come from past and present relationships, normal day-to-day happenings, and the ever present voices and sounds from very difficult 911 calls from nearly 20 years of service in that line of work. As much as I and maybe yourself wish that rock labeled with the name of a past relationship or a difficult situation could simply be taken out of the backpack and thrown out and pretend it never happened. They are the most difficult. Struggles in our daily life may lay on the top of the pile that we can pull out and pitch. Those are the easy ones.

I trudge through life carrying my backpack just as every other person carries their own burdens through theirs. We each do it in our own unique way. I have through life looked through it and taken out heavier burdens and have been able to whittle them down so they are not so big. Some of them simply do not get easier and just like on the day of the original struggle looking at that rock; that burden it is a step back in time. I hear the pain. I hear the loss. Those voices of the 911 caller do not hang up. They fall within the backpack and take a permanent place within the empty spaces in the load upon my shoulders. Just as I said when I suffered a breakup and said, “I can’t believe this is happening” or taking a horrific 911 call whispering in my mind, “This cannot be happening,” and now looking to the 10-year anniversary of my mother’s death and the enormity of that and it truly seems just like yesterday, “Did that really happen?”