ever

 

Escaping April

 Why are days off from work so difficult?  It's the empty space, the loneliness creeps in, and my thoughts betray me.  Another part of our history will no longer exist come Saturday.  It is so odd to choose the day a living creature will no longer have life.  Reminds me of choices of the past.  Choices you asked my opinion and advice. Choices I had to make because I was the person you trusted most in the world and you could no longer speak for yourself.  

Why do I still struggle 2,208 days later? I think the legal document and saying goodbye to a life has its effects.  I was distracted most of the day, now that the distraction is done I seek another.  An escape.  I feel the month is poisoned.  

I miss you, and long for day 1353, 1354, 1355.  Long for days the hollow doesn't slowly sneak in and take me by surprise, bring me to the empty, the void in my chest that hurts.  I just want to close my eyes. 

Alas a distraction has arisen, a chance for me to help someone, take my focus off the hollow and make use of myself.  

take care, 

a jumbled mess

 Easter Monday, not really significant to me in the liturgical sense, but it is in my heart because that is the day she passed away.  The day after Easter. I really hate the month of April.  Yesterday I read a comment, meant to be funny.  She joked about some physical attribute in photos and her husband replied with a "you'll never find a man with that attitude" and she joked a response, thank goodness you're not dead.  That really hit me, I know it was meant in jest, but it was really hard to see that as a joke.  Then today the same couple shares they're anniversary, 14 years.  Yet another couple in our circle of friends that has outlasted our marriage albeit we fulfilled the whole 'til death do us part. This weekend I am working, it is my usual weekend to work and I did not try to change shifts.  It will be the first in 6 years I'm working on the 11th.  The sun will rise and it will set.  I thought I was ready, but I don't know if I am.  I guess it really doesn't matter, ready or not it the day will come and I will be at work.  

Saturday will be 11 years.  I still remember driving cross country, my brother warning me not to "take over".  That was hurtful, I just drove 36 hours straight from my house to the hospital and that was the first thing I remember him saying to me.  I watched her die, the woman who lived and breathed for her kids, at least that's how I remember.  I know after someone you love dies you tend to remember and maybe even embellish only the good things. 

I just realized that this year would have been our 20 year wedding anniversary.  Kind of a milestone I'd say.  

I also feel guilty for being sad about that.  It makes no sense at all I know.  I'm trying to keep things together for chapter 2.  So many things have been said, I'm confused and maybe even still a little nervous about letting you in.  

Reflection

Here it is, my reflection of the fifth sorrowful mystery: Jesus dies on the cross

"From noon onward, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And about three o'clock Jesus cried out in a loud voice, Eli Eli, lema sabachthami? which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"  Matthew 27:45-46

Death is a part of life is a saying everyone's heard.  For me the grief following death became my life.  I felt alone, abandoned, like a hollow had consumed me, I was stuck.  My husband passed away then four years and eleven days later my dearest friend died unexpectedly.  She was my confidant, my listening post, my life guard.  She was there for me and my daughter when my husband was diagnosed, when he declined, and when he died.  She stayed by my side and we grew closer.  I've never had a sister, but I imagine that's what it would be like.  I was back in that hollow, I think of grief like the ocean.  For me, at the beginning it is difficult because the waves come so fast and so hard.  To cope I would look for distractions to occupy my time and thoughts.  I was numb to the world around me.  After losing my dearest friend, my life guard, I remembered my Kairos.  It is a simple necklace made of rope and a circle of clay with a handmade cross imprinted on it.  I received it on my senior year retreat that was themed "Kairos: God's time".  It usually hangs on my wall, when days get too difficult and I feel alone, drowning I'll put my Kairos around my neck and feel the clay lag against my chest and I know I won't be swallowed, the wave will pass and the ocean will be calm again. 

During this time of isolation so many of us grieve the joys that are lost, missed birthdays, postponed weddings, and it hurts to smile sometimes.  Upon my reflection of this 5th sorrowful mystery I think about Jesus experiencing death, feeling alone, I think about his mother grieving her son, I think about my dear friend's mother and her time in the waves.  I reach for my Kairos and remember calm and light will come, just like after the crucifixion Mary finds peace on the third day. 

As we meditate upon the crucifixion, we pray for the grace of hope and calm. 

This reflection has put me in that mood for sure.  Lots of thinking about where I've been and where I am now.  In 40 days the calendar will mark the sixth anniversary.  You seem so far away.  I've had quite a few memory bumps I suppose is a good a term as any.  They don't all bring uncontrollable tears and they even conjure up a smile from time to time.  

take care, 

Making a choice, taking action, looking for renewal.

 Another day off, a day with my thoughts.  Time is so precious, finite.  I came across this video, some of the ideas I do not necessarily agree with, some I do.  I have not heard of the 'prosperity gospel' and from what little I understand about it, it's not my cup of tea.  

"Everything happens for a reason"

"Good things happen to good people"

"God has a plan"

Did you feel loved that day with your audible breathes as all of us sat around you talking and sharing stories about you?  I can still remember where we were all sitting.  Did you miss your princess not being there? Did I make the wrong choice when I got the call from M, the choice to have her continue with her Saturday routine?  When M said the blue color was starting to fade in.  I just realized that now, maybe I should have had her come with me that morning and sit with you and sit with all of us, hearing all those stories of your youth from those that loved you your entire life.  Did I make a mistake in that choice?  I had to make so many choices.  I didn't even realize until this very moment that having her there that morning has you took your last breaths was an option, a choice I made with information from M.  Granted I didn't know how long it would be once the color began, nobody could know that.  She struggled for so long that when you left this earth she was swimming and having fun, she thinks she was diving for rings at the moment you died.  She felt guilty for years with that image.  Did I create that guilt?  There is nothing I can do about it now, what is done is done.  I am so sorry I chose to not have your princess there. 

I have struggled with my faith in God since my Mom passed away.  It was not because of her death, at least I don't think that's what sparked my struggle.  I guess I believe in the power of doing good.  I know all the stories, studied Old Testament and New Testament at my Catholic high school  I even taught Old Testament and New Testament to middle schoolers for a few years at my church's faith formation program, back in my day we called it CCD.  I'm not 'religious' so to speak.  There are times I do not go to mass, I've definitely missed several 'holy days of obligation" in my adult life.  Hodo's is the term you coined. To me the church is a place for me to springboard into action; I should clarify that I am so grateful to be a member of my parish.  There is a history here of social justice action.  I have not ever been one to say "I'll send my thought and prayers".  For one thing I don't know if that is something the other person would find comforting in their time of struggle.  

I have also put action into my faith, really they are integrated for me.  I will say amidst this pandemic I truly miss going to mass.  I go to hear the message then think about the message if I agree or disagree.  I go to stand up, sit down, kneel, and sing with my community that know the stories too and look to hear a new message in those familiar stories.  Mass reminds me of my purpose for humanity, beyond being a mother, beyond helping patients at work.  Mass brings it all together for me, a place to recharge, allowing me to put action into motherhood, action into providing compassionate care at work, action into my social justice passion.  It's a time for renewal for me.  Watching mass on a screen does not renew me.  Do I dare try to schedule a retreat again?  The first time I unknowingly scheduled a retreat geared for alcoholics and addicts, once I realized what it was I spoke to the director and left.  I am glad that retreat is available for those in that need; it was just not for me as I struggled with your loss.  At that time I was less than a year out from your passing and just swallowed in darkness, that was not the source of light I sought. Last year I found a 'silent' retreat, it sounded so renewing a whole weekend to listen to messages and let my mind search for what they mean and what I could do in this world.  Alas, the world had other plans as the pandemic set in.  I've worn my Kairos from time to time, having it around my neck can be helpful, sitting here putting my thoughts to written words is also helpful, though I'm sure it sounds like one ramble after another.  

I've been asked to participate in a 'virtual rosary' for my parish.  They are looking for me to share my personal reflections as they relate to the sorrowful mysteries. I am honored I was sought out for this, honestly I'll have to review my rosary and all the mysteries.  It's been many many years, maybe even over a decade since I've prayed the rosary.  It does bring back fond memories of my Gram, she spoke of Mary and praying to Mary all the time.  I still remember praying the rosary at her funeral, they may have been the last time, nearly 19 years ago.  

I've heard you say live your best life.  I've heard you question the death of a beloved uncle, even though he was guided by his Christianity.  So many questions of philosophy, so many discussions to have, so many 'Sunday' messages to parse and share what they mean to us. I want to have all those discussions, share all those ideas, take action to make this place a better world, I want to do all that with you. A little action today to help feed some families in another part of this world is a good start and I can't wait for more to share with you. 

take care

My enigma, it blooms in winter

 It's a day off and I'm contemplative, a day off and I'm on my own in my own world and in my own thoughts.  Not always a good place for me.  I came across a poem today from a social media post. I look at the dates of your posts and try to recall what was going on in our lives.  Pre-diagnosis, pre-Ch, post-diagnosis, and what month post-diagnosis, there were only eleven.  This poem speaks to me today, you chose to use the word enigma. The second time I've heard it in less than a week's time. 

I have one plant I saved from your funeral.  The peace lily from my hula family.  I remember Ch's Mom saying it's so easy to take care of and nearly impossible to kill this plant.  She was right.  I've kept it alive and it'll be six year I've had it.  This plant means a great deal to me.  For the first three years it didn't bloom, I barely remembered to water it.  It would be completely wilted and that sight reminded me to water it, a few hours later it would be ok.  For the first few years I kept the potted plant next to your chair in the living room, it was the original pot I received it in.  Then you came into my life.  You suggested I put it in the window so it would get sunlight.  Duh, I have a degree in biology, you'd think I would have thought about that earlier.  Then again my thumb has never been green; hence I asked a plant person which plant I should keep as a reminder of you.  The orchid was definitely out of the question. I digress, you my dear entered the picture.  My peace lily started to thrive, kinda like I did.  I had neglected it and only watered it when it was not looking so great.  You came in and suggested I put it in the sunlight, so I moved it to the window.  I even started to turn it every once in a while so different parts of the plant would get direct sun, in taking care of that plant, making improvements my brain started to kick in.  You came into my life, put me in the sun to start.  Just a small suggestion.  The next time we cut off the dead leaves.  Your plant knowledge (you are a jack of all trades) lead to the suggestion to cut off all the dead leaves.  The plant will continue to put it's resources to those dead leaves and the healthy leaves will get less nutrients.  The peace lily was looking better, not necessarily thriving, but it wasn't wilting on a regular basis anymore. The next step was replanting it.  We bought some fresh dirt, rich with nutrients, a bigger pot, and we did it together.  A few months later it began to bloom.  At one point there were four blooms at once.  I was so proud, silly I know, but it put a real smile on my face, a smile that didn't hurt.  Last year at this time it did ok, no winter blooms I can remember, no blooms in the spring or summer either, at least none that come to my mind.  Maybe that's just how I remember the first 9 months of last year, my plant not thriving, not growing, not blooming.  

The last stanza of the poem truly stands out to me in this day, in this time. It's winter and the peace lily blooms, one opened and the promise of a few more.  

take care, 

Feminism and chivalry.

 128 days

1279 days

I guess I am pretty complicated and don't always make sense, a conundrum you're just stuck with.  I still maintain I am low maintenance.  I'm all about 'girl power' and doing things on my own, like turning off the water for the winter, bringing in all the groceries, yet I want you to open the door for me and let me go first.  I don't fuss over hair and makeup, but I want you to tell me I'm beautiful and surprise me with flowers.  I want you to know I can do things all on my own, but I still want you to take care of me.  I'm a feminist who also wants chivalry.  Up for the challenge? I may be difficult to figure out, but well worth the effort I assure you.  I guess you're not the only enigma these last 1,278 days.  

take care