Wednesday, October 17, 2012


2011 Pumpkin Patch Festival
Egg Harbor, WI
It seems that all I do these days is reflect.  Reflect on my Mom and all the times we shared and all the little things she taught me.  Door County is in my heart like no other spot I have ever traveled to.  It all started with the yearly camping trips as a child with Mom and Dad and then I continued going with my friends throughout college and then began taking my own family.

Ever since Lauren was born we have made it a tradition to head back to all the usual spots that mean so much to us.  We had one last trip with Mom this summer in July.  Don't put off the little trips.  Work can wait.  Laundry will wait too.  But the creating of memories.....that is what you have to hold in your heart when a loved one dies.  Those memories mean more than a piece of crystal from a curio case.
Peninsula State Park
I just got off the phone with my sister.  I'm not sure how to do this grief thing.  My heart breaks for myself, yet I just want to make it all better for my precious sissy. And my 89 year old Grandmother. And my Aunt. (mom's sissy)  I just want to take all of us and fix it. Take the ridiculous amount of pain away. Yet I understand that grief is a personal and individual journey.  I can't take on their pain and they can't take mine on. It's like the Bear Hunt song that Evan loves to sing........."Can't go around it, gotta go through it!"  Yep.  Grief is the same gig.  

Mom was so intertwined in every aspect of our lives that simple living hurts because around every corner is a reminder of what an amazing mother we had.  A stinkin' giant rice krispie treat at the pumpkin patch made me want to cry today because years ago Mom got one for Lauren.  Because if a Grandma can't buy her granddaughter a big rice krispie treat who can?!  
Fish Creek
How lucky we were to share trips, travels, rides in the car, movies, songs, drinks, mom's famous lemon bars, special amazing this time spent with her was.  Not everybody experiences life with a mom the way we did.  But there is never enough time.  It's just simply not enough.  Yet is has to be.  What a gift.  What a treasure.
Peninsula State Park
one of the kids fell and hurt their soothed them like only a grandma can do...

I opened up a box today.  The boxes are out of sight but I know they are there. We packed up the house in a week so there wasn't time to cry, fret or ponder if we wanted to keep something or donate it. So our decisions were quick.  The boxes contain mostly clothes, some sheet sets and towels. The special stuff has already been unpacked. So one would think these would be easy to unpack. One box later and I'm exhausted.  I walked past a set of Tupperware measuring cups and a random beach towel wondering how to proceed.  I need to lie down now.  This grief journey is exhausting.  I'll take physical exhaustion over this any day.
Nobody made a better vodka gimlet than mom... 

There is no rush in this journey. I get that. There are no rules. There are hours without tears but right now everything is tinged with sadness. Sadness can taste like bitter rage or sweet sorrow. The changing weather and gray day matches my soul.  My soul is changing and it feels like rain. This grief thing feels like an infection. Mom wrote in her journal (after Dad died) "Do not feel bad for feeling happy."  

I needed to write so I can move on with the day.  These feelings and words stalk me until I deliver them here, to you.  Thank you again for your support.  
After Dad died my sister and I had a favorite quote we shared with people in sympathy cards:  "Sorrow comes to all.  Perfect relief is not possible except with time. You can not now realize that you will ever feel better and yet you are sure to be happy again."  (Abraham Lincoln) xoxo

1 comment:

  1. Lovely, lovely post. Thank you for the lessons in grief. I have yet to live them myself.