Tag Archives: life

The Third Week

Posted on by
1

It’s the Monday after the Sunday night 2 weeks after mom has gone. I’m starting the 3rd week without her. It feels unreal. It feels like she’s still here, just a half a block down the street. I still expect the phone to ring. I would pick it up and it would be mom giving me her grocery list. Or I would think, I have to ask mom. Now, sometimes I hesitate to look at her photos, afraid that she wouldn’t be there. When I do look, she is still my same mom.

Today, I went over to vacuum for dad. My brother and niece had taken him out. I was in mom’s house by myself. It still feels light and bright as always. Not too much to vacuum up except a little in the kitchen. Not much dust anywhere except in dad’s room. All the windows and screens looked clean. I wonder if mom’s been back, cleaning and dusting. She was always meticulously clean and tidy even up to her last moments.

I was almost finished when my dad returned. He said that my brother and niece had taken him to Market Mall, brought flowers, coffees and muffins and drove out to lay flowers for mom. He is full of grieve and weeping. What can I say or do? Some words of comfort? He has lived longer than me. I try to console. The reality is, this is something none of us can escape. I tell him mom is still here, looking over him. And we, his children are also suffering and grieving for our mother. It is early. Only 2 weeks ago. Time will ease the sorrow. We are all ok, doing the best we can, looking out for each other.

I’m writing for the National Blog Posting Month. It gives me one goal a day. It keeps me a little sane.

Navigating the Early Days

Posted on by
4

Photo by Binti Malu on Pexels.com

Early November mornings can get me down. It is so dark at 7 am. The sun did not rise till 8:07 Saskatoon time. I’m basking in its glow in the warmth of my sunroom. I’m sitting in front of my keyboard with my second cup of tea. My mother is watching over my right shoulder. Tonight will be 2 weeks since she’s left her earthly body. I’m sure she was greeted by Sheba at the gate, tail wagging and looking for her treat.

I do not yet know how to feel or how to start each day. I feel she’s still in her house with dad. I still see her face in my head. I still want to say “I’m going to mom’s”. I feel the loss of her upon waking in the dark of autumn mornings. I feel ok at night going to bed, knowing I don’t have to worry about her at night. Most nights I can sleep without a sleeping pill though I wake between 3 and 4 am. Now I can make myself stay in bed till 6. It’s better to stay and perhaps to fall back asleep again.

I am fortunate that I have the tools of words. I have always found relief in spilling onto the page. I haven’t found my way back to meditating yet but yesterday I did some qigong movements. Having neglected them so long, I couldn’t remembered them all. Fumbling and flailing works. I was moving. They will come back in time as surely as grief will recede. I ran into 2 of my mother’s friends the other day. We hugged and got misty eyed together. Both are widows of many years. One shared that it took her 3 years after losing her husband to feel ok again.

Though I am no stranger death and grief, it is my first at such a personal level. I’ve lost grandparents and other relatives and friends. I felt the sadness and loss. But it wasn’t the same. I have gotten off relatively easy. With my mother, I was still tied as if by the umbilical cord. I felt what she felt. At different times, like when I am at the kitchen sink, I’ve felt as if I was her. Have you ever had that phenomenon?

Enough words already for today. I have to move on with the day. Shake myself loose with some qigong and try to clear my growing clutter. Later, my sister and I are taking our father out for dim sum. He’s doing ok. We are taking good care of him.

National Blog Posting Month

Posted on by
2

November can be a bleak month but it is also National Blog Posting Month. So I will blog the bleakness away. I missed day 1 yesterday. I was visited by a darkness that drained my energy. I wasn’t paying attention. I was naive and left myself wide open. I’ve made a nice recovery. My atennas are up and functioning. I will not let anyone’s darkness in.

I think of mom in the morning. We watched the sun rise. I made my steelcut oats in the microwave, added a bit of coconut oil, a few haskaps and pecans. It was tasty and filled me with warmth. Then I read a few pages of the murder mystery book from the library. Charlotte Vassell’s The In Crowd is pretty engaging. It takes my mind off things that needed to be offed, at least for a little while.

I have a load of laundry on the go. The breakfast dishes are done. I had a pileup yesterday that took me forever. I like to manual wash. It feels like I’m washing off the grime from yesterday. It feels like cleaning off evil. Now it’s time for lunch. And I have laundry to hang up. Not a novel and not much of a post, but it is something.

Living & Aging Fiercely

Posted on by
1

Photo by Yan Krukau on Pexels.com

Day 30 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. Having lost my mother 10 days ago has changed the lens through which I view life and the world. Our world feels more broken to me. It’s hard to be optimistic. It’s hard to put on a smile. When I read things about the US election and Donald Trump, I feel like vomiting. And I don’t read alot of that. Still, it adds to my grief.

I don’t want to stay there. I don’t want to feel so dark and hopeless about our world and life. It’s a good reason to write about living and aging and fiercely. I always want to be Wonder Woman but I don’t have much wonder in me now. I’m a bit wobbly on my feet, fuzzy in the head and fear in my heart. I’m no spring chicken any more. Can I survive and thrive through all this? I’m not tough as nails but I probably have a little rust in me.

Oh poor me! I have to get over myself. Many have been in my shoes and many more will follow. We all travel same hard roads and cry the same woes. It does give me comfort knowing that. I will get some sleep now. Tomorrow I will work on being fierce.

Loss and Grief

Posted on by
1

Day 29 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge finds me not inspired. The jukebox in my head is not playing. No one has put in any coins. Perhaps I have to give it a swift kick in the side. Perhaps I am in mourning and silence is what I need. I find myself in a peculiar space. The fear and dread of my mother’s death was greater in my head than in reality.

Her final days were in the home she loved. Her pain came swift and short with all of us around her. The 2 not needed rescuers were respectful and kind as was the 2 policemen and coroner. There was no chaos but peace and respect. Such is the protocol for the fortunate leaving from home. We didn’t have to wait for a month like you have to for family doctor appointment, months for a cardiologist followup or 14 hours like in ER. They all came promptly with one phone call.

I was happy she was not in the hospital. It is not always a safe and caring space. The care is missing in our Healthcare. When you are sick, you don’t want to hear about staff shortages and certainly not about saving resources, especially when you are old. You want to be cared for. This is my grief talking. I know people did what they thought was their best. But I have to ventilate. Healthcare is not made up of just hospitals, clinics, doctors, nurses, technicians, receptions, etc., etc. It is all of us. We all have to care, to be kind. It’s also my mother talking through me. She’s big for kindness.

Loving Mom

Posted on by
7

Loving mom was/is the most easy thing. Losing her is the hardest. Though I’ve had her more than most people have had their mothers, it doesn’t seem enough. Forever is what I want. I still feel the need for my mother. That is selfishness on my part. She was tired. She hung on for as long as she could for us. She left on an October day after having seen the sunrise and sunset.

It’s been a week since her departure Sunday night, October 20th. The week has gone by in a blur. I had been worrying for years on the how(s) and what(s) to do when the time came. It’s been 23 years since she was diagnosed with a serious heart disease. I remembered because we were waiting at the hospital for CT scan on September 11, 2001. That morning upon rising, I heard news of planes flying into twin towers in NYC. I thought of mom’s family there. In the hospital waiting room I watched the chaos and horror on TV. My mother was around 70 years old then.

I need not have spent so much time worrying and wondering. Life and death took care of themselves. Mom had a few tough times but many good ones. She never thought she would have such a long life. She marveled that the surgeon could put her back together after she fell and broke her hip. That was on the day before Mother’s Day. Her hip was the least of her problems. Her body and already compromised heart was traumatized by the fall and surgery.

I asked for one more summer. My mother asked to see the sunrise and sunset. We both got our wishes. She said she was always happy no matter what. She had us. She’s told me that many times. That’s been a comfort. She said that too the last afternoon when we basked in the late afternoon sun in the backyard. She looked like a rock star with my sunglasses on. I felt blessed to be in her presence for those 30 minutes.

I haven’t given up on the Ultimate Blog Challenge. Finding my words again today.

Killing Me Softly

Posted on by
5

The jukebox in my head is playing again today. I guess I have alot of songs that need to be sung. The song today is Killing Me Softly. It is a pretty song but I can’t sing it as beautifully as Roberta Flack. Nevertheless life is killing me softly and slowly with its demands. There’s nothing to do but to ride the ups and downs. Everyone is on the same roller coaster. There’s no use whining. I better just pull up my socks and keep my panties on.

I’m doing the best I can. No matter what, I wake up, get up, dress up and show up each day. Some days are better than others. Some days I’m a flying mess. Some days I’m feeling just fantastic!. There are days that are just full and spilling over with everything. Those days I cuss and fart alot, trying to have some fun. Those days, the jukebox in my head like to play Mary Oliver’s Wild Geese. It comforts me alot.

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

From a Whisper to a Scream

Posted on by
2

Photo by u0414u043cu0438u0442u0440u0438u0439 u0417u0430u0439u0446u0435u0432 on Pexels.com

Today the jukebox in my head was playing Esther Phillips. She was singing From a Whisper to a Scream. My jukebox has been silent for a long while. Now it wants to scream. I think I woke it up with my own screaming. I’ve been silent too long and now I am hoarse with my yelling. Sometimes you have to, just to be heard. Even then, after screaming and screaming, you might not succeed. They don’t want to hear, but you can tell yourself, at least I’ve tried.

I think trying is good enough. Having done so, I can go back to whispering. It’s softer on the ears and easier on the throat. And people will not think I’m a crazy mad lady. I can breathe easier. My heart rate will slow and I can be mellow as a cello. I am getting better at this, at letting off steam. I blow my stack and you can see steam coming out my ears like in the cartoons. BUT none stays within. And I go WOW! I feel ok, calm and cool as a cucumber. I might lose a friend or foe. But then I can always make new ones, right?

Words and Pictures

Posted on by
6

So I’ve been irregular and a little constipated with my words and posts. It happens. No need to explain. Eventually I do return. There are no better words than Mary Oliver’s. Here’s hers from 3 of her poems rolled in one. The Summer Day, Wild Geese and The Uses of Sorrow. And no better pictures than these of Sheba. They’re worth a thousand words. I haven’t seen her for awhile. They bring tears to my eyes.

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?’, ‘You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your place in the family of things.’, and ‘Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.” -Mary Oliver

Looking for Calm and Wisdom

Posted on by
4

How easily I’m rattled these days. I have so many straws that can break my camel’s back. This morning I am all nervous energy. I am aggitated, thoughts running here and there. I know there’s nothing to be done. I know I am wasting energy and maybe compromising my health and immune system. So I come there to tap and hopefully hit the right keys and meridian points. Looking for calm. Looking for wisdom. Looking for guidance.

I know from experience that when I most need a helpful ear and a calming touch, no one is home, not even God. The best thing for me is to be quiet and still and breathe into the moment. Calmness and wisdom will come from within, for it is I who knows me best. My self talk is quieting me and I am finding some rest and peace. I am finding some words for today’s Ultimate Blog Challenge.

There’s much still to do in the garden. I harvested a small patch of carrots this morning and the parsnips in the raised bed. The parsnips are not looking parsnipy and tapered, but gnarled with many fingers, much like last year’s. Will have to try direct seeding them in the soil next spring. I had started them in peat pots indoors and planted the pot into the bed without disturbing the roots. Still it must have made a difference. But it’s not a loss. They will still be tasty.

I guess life is like growing parsnips. It’s not perfect, not conforming to expectations. I guess I should embrace the surprises, blips and blurps that arise and find joy and satisfaction in learning and coping. End of post. Now onward to planting my tulip bulbs.