Monday, November 5, 2012

Time Change(s)...

We eat in the dining room now.  The kids set the table and Lauren made place cards.  It's a simple little joy amid the sorrow that lingers around the edges of everything.  The table cloth needed to be washed and ironed.  Ironing is my least favorite task until I get into it.  Then it feels cathartic.  I have Mom's iron now.  It's a good one.  She bought the same one for Tracy years ago for an Anniversary gift.  I remember Tracy thinking "what the hell?!"
Lauren looked through the cookbook to find something to make.  We had all the ingredients to make an apple/carrot/raisin salad.  The kids took turns shredding the carrots.  It made a big mess but I tired to just be present and dwell in the joy.
The sun streams bright and hard but it is dark so soon after Lauren gets off the bus.  I have always love this time of year.  Fires in the fireplace, cozy blankets on the couch, sleeping so deep...I usher the season in with mixed emotion.
Evan never stops talking or asking questions.  I have to remind myself that he is almost four years old.  That I will miss this someday.
Today my Yogi tea tag said "Speak the truth."  My truth is pain.  Even if my face doesn't show it.  Everyday some laughter and some tears.  After the tears the relief washes over, if only for a minute.  I thought today about how this pain is not just my own.  It is a collective suffering with all those who loved Mom.  So many people loved her.  She touched so many lives.  It helps me get out of my head if I can focus on bringing joy to another.  Something as simple as a smile.

I found on a comment on my blog from someone I don't even know.  She spoke as if I were saying these words myself:
I lost my daddy a few years ago and I remember being SHOCKED the morning after he died that the sun came up. I couldn't believe the world just KEPT TURNING. And then, after he'd been gone a month, thinking that I'd never gone an entire month without speaking to him. Not one month of my whole life. I remember feeling like I wore my grief like a sweater - I was always layered in it. Even when I was just buying groceries, I felt like the checkout lady could SEE my grief. 
I want you to know that the pain dulls with time. There will be awful days and there will be ok days. And then, there will come a time when the thought of her won't cause you intense pain. That day is coming. But until then, hang in there. And know how truly sorry I am for your loss.

You can check out her blog at  Thank you for these words!  They spoke to my heart and when I read it I wanted to scream YES!  YES!  You get it!

1 comment:

  1. My eyes are filled with tears. This post is so beautiful--from the first word to the last. I love it so much even though it is full of pain. I love how you are DOING HARD THINGS as Glennon of Momastery would say. Because what choice do you have? And how you are focusing on the moments with your littles because they are there, and need you. Many hugs to you!