Tag: mourning

Boxes of love

I am still sifting through boxes of pictures, letters, cards, newspaper clippings that belonged to the queen mum. She kept every card her kids ever sent her. She kept a list of Christmas cards that she received and a list of cards she sent. In the past few years the list had gotten smaller and as I looked at her address book I noticed the scratched out names of friends that are gone. She kept everything that had anything to do with my brother Sean who died in 2000, his death broke her heart. So now I struggle with throwing away the pictures of the memorial gathering and remembrance book that his friends signed,  the newspaper articles about his life, his obituary notice. It isn’t just his obits she kept but the one for her mother, her  father, her  two brothers with rosary cards in their honor. Who would I save these for? Who wants to know? Who would see these pieces of paper as treasures, touch stones to their past. History. As I throw these things away I feel I am not only throwing away my mother’s life but a part of my own. I am grateful we have memories, you don’t have to throw them away.

Here’s my application

I just turned 65 years old and I am looking for a job. I applied for unemployment but they are giving me grief. I hate bureaucracy. I don’t like being told what to do. So I have to sign these papers agreeing that I am ready and willing and able to work right now. I need to be able to lift 50lbs and stand or sit for eight hours and always have a smile on my face. They don’t mention if I am allowed to cry while I’m smiling. I still cry a lot, I never know when it is going to happen. It reminds me of the weather here in the Pacific Northwest, one moment it’s sunny the next cloudy and overcast. Just like me.

Help Me

There was a big black fly banging on the window today, acting like he wanted to get out. So I opened the  window, all he had to do was go over to it. But he didn’t, he just kept whacking his head on the opposite side. I would think he could smell or feel the fresh air and gravitate towards it. No, he just kept flying around in the opposite corner. I use my hand to try to lead him towards freedom, instead he panics and flies even father away from the open window. I feel like I’m doing the same thing. I want to be happy and support myself doing something I care about  and not worry about being in the corner but I’m so focused on where I am that I can’t see that the window is open and all I have to do is fly.

Waiting

I walked into the holistic health office and 4 young people smile at me, their faces full of joy. I try to smile back. I wish I could put on the big fat I can take it smile, but it’s just not there. Mourning sucks all the joy out and fills the empty spaces with sadness. I honor my grief because when the mourning quiets down I know I will be better for it. I will find my joy.