I don’t suppose, I will ever grasp the concept of time. I know it is summer, for the heat though dreadful, does at least, turn the tomatoes, a lovely crimson. I see the very old crepe myrtle in all its’ glory, now and the community of little wild creatures, that abide on Bonnet Street, are taking cool sips of water from the birdbaths regularly. . . as they should, for how nonchalantly the sun moves across rhe sky now. A shower of rain is cause to celebrate, these days! I have always called this time summer, but now . . . it is the time after Mama died.
Life does seem ro divide itself in segments naturally. Unlike a calendar, there is no precise way to measure the duration of these fragments. Just the other day, I answered someone with “That was before Brant was born,” and I still say. “After Farm Life” quite often.
This particular “segment” remains especially somber-and odd.
I am so very disappointed with ” all the business of death”. . .and at such a time of distraught, for everyone. I dread the disassembly of my parents; home. We have barely started this heart wrenching task. I am hoping that the thought of it is worse than than the act itself.
I am still coming to terms with this new “territory”. , , in life. This world is just so wide and vast, I remind myself.
Order has almost been restored at the rabbitpatch. I have at least completed the “no plastic” mission. Of course, this will require my on going attention and I must put thought in to what comes in this little cottage.
Most of my flowers have survived my neglect and the cruel heat of midsummer. The “confederate rose” that I rooted last year survives and thankfully so, as this is a hard to find plant. The stalwart phlox blooms. The roses are complaining. The wild jasmine lives whole heartedly and thrives . . .and seems to grow joyfully.
I am practicing some of the food preservation skills. that I studied in the last six months. I have made sauerkraut twice and am fermenting tomatoes now. They smell amazing and if it ever gets cool enough, we will have an Italian dinner. I tried my hand at yogurt and that was especially good with fresh strawberries. .. but lo and behold! Yesterday, I made crumpets! I am using a sourdough starter, which took me weeks to make. I have a lot of practice ahead to accomplish my lofty notions, but will not attempt too much just yet in my little kitchen in July . . for fear of wilting with a wooden spoon in my hand.
My computer gave out the last month that I was with Mama. That changed things, as I could not study new medications, nor understand what certain symptoms meant. I felt unsettled not knowing things and fearful that I would miss something crucial. . . and oh how I love knowledge!
After a few days. I realised that I was praying more. I was now, relying on my faith. I didn’t have to know everything. .nor understand every detail. This was of great comfort to me. It was also a very significant course, and I considered it deeply.. I simply had no other options, or else I am certain that I would have remained as I had been. . . “leaning on my own understanding”.
I must be as stubborn, as my children declare that I am. for it took me getting backed into a dim corner, to resign from my former habit and to accept the liberty that awaited. . .and I am determined to act like the wild jasmine-to live whole heartedly . . .and thrive . . and grow joyfully.
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Oh life is definitely divided into before your mother passes on and after. Nothing is ever the same again.
I am know you are strong in faith and love. My heart goes out to you my dear Friend. Xxx
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I look forward to reading about your thriving and growing.
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I think many of us mark time through big events, some sad, some joyous. I have been thinking about you as you mourn the passing of your mother.
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One of the hardest parts about losing a loved one is all the work that is involved in their deaths…and it comes at a time when you simply don’t have the emotional energy to deal with it. I’m so sorry! Take it one day at a time and lean on your faith. It will help.
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I am now 72 and I’ve been living in the period of “after Mom” since 29. I’m fortunate to have a close sister who I lean on for my family remembrances. Although married for 46 yrs, that family that knew her “from the start” is so important to me. As a retired school teacher of 35 years (a music ed turned elementary ed) please know I am thinking of you often and sending you strength as you make these many life changes.
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I was co-executor for my father’s estate, along with my little sister. All four siblings went to the house on November 1st, several weeks after he passed, to take care of the solemn business at hand. While I was there my daughter took my wife to the hospital from which she would never emerge. I slept in my wife’s hospital room every night until her passing on December 14th.
I came out of this quite broken, and in retrospect I see I crashed and burned a little. You witnessed some of this on my blogs.
Some other event snapped me out of it. I don’t remember what the event was, exactly, but it must have been some “crisis”, like a car breaking down or the water system failing.
From somewhere in the recesses of my mind a phrase rang out:
“You need to know how to roll and right. Nose to knees, bubbles up”.
It’s part of kayak training. If you get yourself upside down in the water you will panic. You WILL panic. This phrase must be top-of-mind, and the only thought in your head, or you will not see daylight again.
Tucking your nose to your knees is easy. The challenge is to find the bubbles, trace their course, and follow them up. Up into the light. Up to life.
I don’t know why I thought this might be helpful to you, but I hope it is.
Bubbles up, Sparrow.
All my best,
Scott
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The time after someone dies seems to last for ever, Michele, but we take baby steps, do normal things, rejoice a little in the beauty of the Wild Jasmine. I love your gentle goodness and humour, and keep you in my prayers.
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Grow joyfully Michelle 😊
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I’m so sorry for your loss. Yesterday was 9 years since my dear mother passed. It’s hard to lose the “one who loved you the most”. The day she passed I was riding up the elevator with a family who was so excited to go up and meet their new grandbaby and I was in tears too, but mine were sorrowful tears not happy ones like theirs.
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What a beautiful post. Life has been busy and I haven’t done much reading or writing on this nook. I am still at work but wanted a small reprieve and thought of visiting your blog. I am so glad I did. So sorry about your mothers passing. A big virtual hug coming your way.
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Greetings Michele – We have a choice to be stubborn in love. 🙂 Your pictures of home always look like there’s love inside. I call on the Holy Spirit to bless you through the experiences that hurt, but make us grow – as well as blessing all your dreams with an end you never imagined could come true. much love, Debra
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