Monday, June 9, 2014

What Becomes of Life Now?

 
 
 
As it seems that I have done for the last few months, I'm replaying history - like the movie plot that gets us all confused and bewildered, wondering if this scene is in the present tense, or rather a piece of memory? Each time I've written since January (aside from the gardening posts),  I am sending readers back into time. I recently posted a very sad, still fresh, harsh reality - my mother no longer exists.



poem read at her Celebration of Life




What now? Is there a certain way to live ... sans mother... a tried and true method that will help me to plod through all of this? I was given a gift of 55 years loved by a woman that was but a child herself when I was born. She loved me with every piece of her soul - she was more than happy to express her unbridled affection for me - her only daughter. Her lovingly exclaimed ~ "MY GIRL"
a frequent nickname for me.












Surprised at myself, quite honestly, that there is not horrible, wrecked, visible emotion at every turn. I have always been quick to cry, palpably emotional, touched and teary by even the merest of incidents. Yet, it feels to me that I am .... holding onto something? holding back? holding on for dear life? waiting for the other shoe to drop? For the life of me I cannot figure it out.

There is still the other 50% that makes me whole, to think about - my Dad. That man, so strong - and sturdy too, at most times. He had a break in his solidness just after my Mom's passing. He really got sick and it was quite difficult to watch. We hardly knew what to do for him. Off we were to emergency rooms (again, uugghhh) and doctors. He came through and has delighted each of us - his children - with his complete willingness to accept all of the "newness" of this lousy situation.









Many weeks at the beginning months of this year were spent with me traveling back and forth to his home in the pines, and living out a week here, a week there. My brothers playing back-up on weekends doing their faithful & loving duties.

Thus is my slice of abundance for the time being. So much of the time with my Dad a pleasure. Time that frankly was not often spent previously; alone with just him. As Mom and I would scoot off to browse antique shops and lunch, and be girls together - taking up most of the precious moments we spent, just we two.  Not that he much minded... we still had loads of family time with the whole crew!

Lo and behold, amidst the sadness and traveling there was fun and beauty also. I took brief moments here and there to truck off with my camera, possibly with Dad's dog, sometimes with heaviness in my heart, and other times with joy at the simplest of things. I took many a backroad and country lane, once in snow and oft alone. There were jaunts with Dad to places that mattered to us - a part of our family's past - to the town where he was born, a place I left my heart many, many years ago. We had visits with his only living sister and lunch at a funky diner with his great-niece!




























































































There is still abundant joy to be had - in spite of the life we now have....
The abundance not always in the form I would love....




6 comments:

  1. beautiful post, and photos.
    we had the same poem at my dad's memorial, seemed so fitting as in his last years he like travel on cruise ships.
    he never recovered from the loss of his love, his life. he couldn't find joy with his children anymore and died just a few shot years later. after having heart surgery. I'm sure he died of a broken heart.
    love and a sweet hug from me...

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  2. Hi Joanne~ sure thinking of you also.. with your loss and other scenarios. Yes, this is quite an odd path to travel. Hoping that my Dad can enjoy his different life. We will soon be moving him closer to all of us which should ease some issues!

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  3. Shari, this...

    "Surprised at myself, quite honestly, that there is not horrible, wrecked, visible emotion at every turn. I have always been quick to cry, palpably emotional, touched and teary by even the merest of incidents. Yet, it feels to me that I am .... holding onto something? holding back? holding on for dear life? waiting for the other shoe to drop? For the life of me I cannot figure it out."

    IS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL. I don't even know how to describe it. I haven't processed this thing yet. Or maybe I won't allow myself. Maybe that's when it's real. And it just isn't... can't... be real.

    Your niece, Christie <3

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  4. Christie - I can feel your hurt, even if you believe it to be invisible. You loved Grandma with all you've got - she knew it - and that's what matters! Now, for the lot of us to lightly creep forward, never forgetting, always with a touched heart - into our new life without her. There is always that thought the Grandma is the reason we are treading rather than drowning in emotion - could be we have her spirit in us that says she is alright and wants us to be also?! I love you!

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  5. Hi Shari, so sorry my dear for you loss. I still miss my mum and dad even after all these years. I'm just stopping by to say how delightful your blog is. Thanks so much for sharing. I have recently found your blog and am now following you, and will visit often. Please stop by my blog and perhaps you would like to follow me also. Have a wonderful day. Hugs, Chris
    http://chelencarter-retiredandlovingit.blogspot.ca/

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  6. It's Easter/Passover, time for renewal and hope. For some reason you have been on my heart today so I thought I would stop by and see if you had posted. Love to you this 'season'...it will get better. I hope your dad is doing well and you are all treasuring time as the wonderful gift it is.

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