A migraine just about took me out yesterday, but I have recovered fully, and I'm looking forward to my weekend. Just a few more hours and I'll be free! I'm planning on heading down to my dad's house this weekend, spending a few days with him.
It's hard for me to get down there to see him. I'm not strong about it. Compared to my sisters who get down there pretty often, I suck at this Holding it Together Thing. I've been to the Central Coast exactly once, for less than twenty-four hours at Christmas and only because my family would have killed me had I flaked yet again.
A year ago at this time was rough. Exactly one year ago, I wrote this post. Lala was flying down the Central Coast on the AIDS ride, and Mom was still alive. She was home on hospice, and we all knew the worst and hoped for a miracle anyway.
It's her birthday tomorrow, and later this week it will be a year since she died.
Sometimes I think I'm having a rough time with it, but then, the next minute, I'm okay. It's not a great feeling, but it's not the worst feeling, either. GOD, I'm articulate, ain't I? Gud thing I writ bookz.
So anyway, for her birthday, I'm going home to see if I can steal any martini glasses from my old room. If I break one more glass, well…. Let's just say I use plastic most of the time now. It turns out I'm as good with glass as I am with confronting pain in the form of memories.
But I'm trying. Really, I am.
Hey, I have a couple of things to share, before I hit the road:
Kira has the cutest new pattern. I'm not a fan of shrugs, since I have the shoulders of a linebacker who swims, but I might even make this (what a great use for some handspun!):
Also, I am driven mad with jealousy by something Erika sent to me. Yes, I work in a dispatch center. Yes, our center sent fire-fighters to the Jesusita fire in Santa Barbara. WHY DON'T WE HAVE THIS? We just have a dumb fish. (But I love that fish. His name is Al.)
“since I have the shoulders of a linebacker who swims” – HA! I’ve always said I have the shoulders of a linebacker, too (and the broad back to support them) but I think this will be my new saying…if you don’t mind my borrowing it!
Oh my goodness.. I think I scared my dog a little with my “CUUUUUUUTE!” It was probably so high-pitched only he could hear it anyway…
Good luck with the fam. You’ll do fine. They know you, they love you, and they love her too. Kisses from the north country –
Oh honey, I do understand your pain, since it is a year since my dd senior was killed in a car accident. And on the anniversery my SO went back in to the hospital (had to call 911 to get him there, since he collapsed and there was no way I could get him back up). 2 weeks in the hospital, a week in a nursing home. Hospice came in 5 hours before he passed away (he got lost in the cracks). At least I was able to be there, and I know it was painless.
Don’t feel like you have to get through this at anyone else’s pace. You are allowed to have as many “mom moments” as you need or want.
They say things get better. I’m still waiting. I remind myself that its only been a year for my Mother and 4 months for my Dad. I hate how a story can send you right back to the day they died and all you miss about them.
I wish you all the best have a great visit with your Dad.
Dympna
hang in there as best you can and if you can’t keep it together and need to get away for coffee or something, let me know. I work mon/tues but have some free time wednesday between say 10ish and 12:00. BIG HUGS!
Oh that is adorable. How cute are they?
Sweetie, you’ll always have your sad moments but it does get a little easier and they do happen farther apart over time.
XO
I wish I had anything useful to say. I’m a total coward with emotional pain.
Well, I always think that when I do something that’s really hard for me the spirits will send a nice thing to me to acknowledge my bravery. You know, something like a nice sunset or me stumbling across a birds nest or oh just something nice. I hope that happens for you this weekend.
Baby, she lives on and on, in your heart! Keep her alive that way and don’t worry for the occasional tear or sad thought, it is normal. My dad has been gone for 30 years, and I miss him every day, love him every day, hold him close to me every day.
you’ll do fine, have fun with dad and don’t worry so much. Swiming line backer you!
I commiserate with you, dear, because it was three years ago today that my Dad left us. I thought I was doing OK until we hit The Time, and I tried to observe a moment of silence to remember him and wound up in tears I wasn’t expecting to shed.
Does it get easier? I don’t know if that’s the right word. Perhaps it’s better to say that it gets easier living in and around the loss. It’s always there, but you learn to let it blend into the landscape until the moments when you are ready to be aware of it.
{{{hugs}}}
I think you should totally knit that shrug, btw.
I’m sorry it’s difficult for you to visit your dad at his house. I lost my mom many years ago and remember very acutely the same seesawing emotions you describe. That stark, raw pain has faded but every once in a while it can still take me by surprise. And I’ll always miss her.
If you need a quick knitting escape to a pub or cafe, let me know. And you’re welcome to join our group of knitters on Mon mornings near Avila.
Take care of yourself and I hope you have a healing visit.
How odd. Tonight while I was loading the dishwasher I found myself thinking of you and your Mom…
I hope going home gets easier for you but I know the feeling well. I find it hard to go to my hometown because when I do it is as if everything just happened. Thankfully my family has all moved here.
Your grief is your own, Rachael. It’s not your sisters’ and it’s not your dad’s, similar though it may be. As such, it will take its own time and make its own way.
Go in grace. I hope you have a good weekend.
I feel for you- today’s my father’s birthday and he passed away 13 months ago. The worst part is forgetting that they are gone when you find yourself just thinking about things and not really tuned in. I thought about a book I should get him. (!) Anyway. it really helps for me to know that he is at peace.
I’m going to hit the 3-year mark tomorrow. I think the most profound thing I’ve learned in the past year is feeling the connection of love to all the pieces of me that were influenced and formed by my father, and that when I see or hear or feel those elements, I don’t burst into tears, or feel desperately sad, but I just feel… connected. And my initial fear, that somehow he would fade away, is so gone now. He is with me, inside my heart and my head, for always.
love to you…
j
Cutest thing I’ve seen in a long while. Grace and peace to you, Rachael, you sweet, sweet girl.
I understand. The pain gets easier with time (my mum died exactly 12 weeks after my dad died; his was unexpected, hers wasn’t). I find myself wanting her counsel or just being able to talk to her. If I’m poorly (as now) I want her to hold my hand – no matter that I have my own daughters or that, as a GP, I should trust in science. When I achieve success, I want to share it with them.
ANd I do in a way by carrying out an internal conversation with them.
Be brave. Knitting has funnilly enough brought me nearer to mum; she knitted but could never get me interested. My youngest wanted to learn a few years ago so I did and haven’tstopped. Knitting brought you to my attention (the Nike+ sensor pod…) and now I see you write too.
Small world, shared experiences, social narrative bring people together. My parents died 12 years ago. have a hug.