Sunday, June 28, 2015

On more grief ...

My thoughts are a random hodge-podge of a mess today — and every day lately — it seems. You'll probably see that if you make it through this post.

Normally, I'm pretty articulate ... but not lately. I find that I just stay quiet when I'm expected to speak because I can't make the words come out right.  I'm sure many people around me are quite thankful for that. Enjoy it while you can. :-) BUT, I am listening.

Books I've been getting to learn
a few things. 
Instead of work, like many grieving people must return to, I have chosen to focus my attention on my parents' things. I have thrown myself into learning about all sorts of collectibles and vintage things I never really cared much about before. While I find it interesting, I also get somewhat frustrated because there's just so much, and the perfectionist in me wants to know all about all the categories RIGHT NOW: Pottery, glass, depression glass, cut glass, china ...

But this is an activity I can do alone, and being alone is what it's all about these days, whether that's right or wrong.

I have found that I'm having a difficult time responding to people when they text or email me. I get words going in my head ... but then I just stop. I don't know why. I really don't. I hope if you have been one of them, you will be patient with me and not take my delays or silence terribly personally. I'm just having trouble with words right now ... for everything, even the most unrelated-to-my-situation things.

This seems inadequate. I'm
not finished yet. 
I have spent time in my aloneness continuing to organize photo boxes — which is bittersweet. I laugh. I smile. I cry. I made my mom's memory box for me this week. I haven't gotten to my dad's yet. I've been thinking about the most appropriate ways to memorialize both parents, as well as save those things that tell the stories of my parents' lives. I have some ideas, but it will take some time.

Photo boxes ... with so many more
to add. My mom had wanted them
to be in albums. That's going to
take years, I think.
I'm grateful I have the time.

I've also focused my attention on all the things that have needed to be done around the house for quite some time. So, Dorsey's in the process of putting up a new fence in the backyard to replace the rotted one. We finally had the dead branches cut out of the trees, and one whole tree is gone now ... not sure how I feel about that. It was dying and a danger to my neighbor's house.

I'm working to replace a few things in the house — some are done, some still to come.

And in the middle of all these things I'm doing, I sometimes feel overwhelmed with sadness. Or I cry. If anyone sees me when I'm out running, they might see a few tears falling. I find that weird, by the way. Or I hole up in my Mom Cave for a few hours.

And one can only get so many pedi's and mani's. :-)

And, you know, I really have a TON of thoughts going on in my head about all the hatred going on in the country right now ... but I can't even articulate that. All I know is, I feel angry about the way people behave toward one another. And I suppose it's just fine that I can't get out what I'm thinking. I doubt I have anything new or profound to add. I'm just completely disgusted and baffled by the hatred ... especially the hatred that occurs in the name of God. Just ... stop. Please just stop.

So I'm done. That's my sad little world right now that's really okay and just a part of the process.

I miss my parents more than I ever imagined I could.




3 comments:

  1. You do not have to be articulate all the time. You do not have to respond to people immediately. Other peoples' hatreds in the name of God is not your responsibility. You do not have to think profound thoughts. You can cry when it hits you. You are so right-----it is all okay and part of your process. You can choose your own focus on your own time. Try not to judge yourself harshly.
    None of the above is profound. I just want you to know that I, with SO many other people, have your back.

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  2. Wow, Clara ... your words brought tears to my eyes. But good ones. Thank you.

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  3. When my dad died, we girls had to quickly get his belongings out of his room at the facility where he had lived. The next person was waiting to move in, of course. When I walked in the room, there, on the bed, was the last letter I'd sent him, yet unopened. I had written about my newborn baby, sent pictures of the two boys, and other news.

    Our job was simpler, only a room of stuff, with a time crunch. Decisions had to be made quickly and since I didn't live there anymore, I was limited as to what I could choose to keep. I'm glad you have the time to ruminate over their belongings and make paced decisions. I love the memory box you put together, can be done according to themes of your parent's lives, like 'living' scrapbooks.

    Blessings!

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