ArizonaButterfly

Today would have been my parents 46th wedding anniversary.

I admired my mom more than I can possibly articulate. She was a resplendent woman, full of life and willing to take what were considered unconventional chances in the prime of her life. Sometimes I imagine how it must have been to travel halfway across the country alone to join the services as a woman in the 50’s. She traveled and experienced life with abandonment at a time when it wasn’t necessarily encouraged or approved of for women to do so. While I celebrate her and the integrity she displayed throughout her life, I cannot say I understand why she put up with the things she did after getting married. She used to say that she had made her bed and lie in it, perhaps a sign of the “way things were back then.” Family was important to my mom and she worked hard to hold us all together. I have a feeling she would be saddened by the fractures running throughout at this time.

I’m sure he isn’t remembering today because of the choices he’s made since her death. While I certainly have not right to pass judgement I am disappointed in the way my older brother has been treated since my mom passed away, and I’m sure she would be as well. Today, on their anniversary, he told me he was in essence making a decision based not on what he thinks is best, but based on the pressure he’s receiving. Not only is it infuriating, it’s yet another reminder of how much she’s missed.

Today is also the anniversary of one of my friend’s son’s death. Her grief is tangible and I ache for her. I cringed when someone told her she should be “over it” by now. Ignorance must be bliss and obviously the speaker has not lost anyone near and dear.

Grief is a process that knows no boundaries of time or place. It rears it’s head in unexpected moments and will not be ignored. And, that’s okay. We need to remember and we need to give ourselves time to walk through the grief. It wouldn’t come up if it wasn’t relevant.

After my mom died, I wished I could dream of her, but I never had until the last few nights. The dreams have been identical, and so vivid and “real” that the first time I had it I awoke disorientated. I sitting in the backyard having coffee and she comes through the gate, joining me. After we chat for a while she gets up, holds out her hand, and tells me it’s time to come with her. I take her hand and walk with her, but someone (it’s been a different person each night) calls me back from her. Then I wake up.

And realize just how much I miss her all over again.

Crazy, huh?

May 13, 1934-February 10, 2004
Today would have been my mom’s 74th birthday. It’s funny how much I still miss her and wish she were here. At the farmhouse she grew up in there were lilac bushes. Every spring she would talk about how the lilacs reminded her of spring. The smell of a lilac always reminds me of her. As her health deteriorated, however, even the smell of a lilac could not alleviate her struggle to breathe or do the simple tasks of life. As much as I miss her, I’m grateful she is not suffering anymore.

From When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d

In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash’d palings,
Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle—and from this bush in the dooryard,
With delicate-color’d blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break.
~Walt Whitman

Happy birthday, Mom. I love you.

Mother’s Day is bittersweet without my Mom. I think of her everyday and wish she were here, but days like today are just a little tougher and a little sadder.

Memory of You

Early one morning, I looked toward the blue
And saw the most beautiful memory of you
The vision was one that was perfect and clear
In proving your spirit shall always be near
The sight, filled with wonder, stretched across the sky
Its presence eased the ache found in our goodbye
For, suddenly, I knew we would meet once more
As angels, united, inside Heaven’s door.

I stood in amazement, gazing near the sun
And realized your struggles, here on earth, were done
After many battles, your burdens had ceased
Your hardships had ended; your soul was at peace
Throughout many hours, I sat and I grieved
But in that reminder, my heart felt relieved
The sight which had formed, right before my eyes
Brought my heart much comfort in the midst of sighs.

Early one morning, I looked ‘cross the blue
And saw the most beautiful memory of you
The vision was one that had prompted a tear
Yet, proved to my heart you will always be near
A rainbow had formed from the sky to the sea
A testament of the joy you brought to me
Serving as a promise we will meet again
In the walls of Heaven, far from grief and pain.
~Jill Eisnaugle

My Mom died four years ago today. She loved to cross stitch, knit, crochet and read. I was always amazed at how many projects and books she could have going at one time. I feel very fortunate to have so many of her cross stitch projects..you can tell a lot about a person by what type of project they choose. I also have her prayer journals. While they might not seem like much to most, they are priceless to me. The barrette in the picture is from when she was a child, engraved with her name. Her nurse’s ring represents her committment to caring for others. She loved charm bracelets, the one in picture is just one she had.

They say time heals all wounds, and perhaps that’s true. While I still miss her every day, the sharpness has faded as I’ve come to realize that she is no longer struggling to breathe or walk anymore…that she truly is at rest.

Memory of You
Early one morning, I looked toward the blue
And saw the most beautiful memory of you
The vision was one that was perfect and clear
In proving your spirit shall always be near
The sight, filled with wonder, stretched across the sky
Its presence eased the ache found in our goodbye
For, suddenly, I knew we would meet once more
As angels, united, inside Heaven’s door.

I stood in amazement, gazing near the sun
And realized your struggles, here on earth, were done
After many battles, your burdens had ceased
Your hardships had ended; your soul was at peace
Throughout many hours, I sat and I grieved
But in that reminder, my heart felt relieved
The sight which had formed, right before my eyes
Brought my heart much comfort in the midst of sighs.

Early one morning, I looked ‘cross the blue
And saw the most beautiful memory of you
The vision was one that had prompted a tear
Yet, proved to my heart you will always be near
A rainbow had formed from the sky to the sea
A testament of the joy you brought to me
Serving as a promise we will meet again
In the walls of Heaven, far from grief and pain.
~Jill Eisnaugle

It was an unpleasant end to a rather unpleasant week at work today. Sometimes I wonder about my career and life choices, especially on days like today where I feel unduly dumped on and blamed for decisions and actions beyond my control. It’s moments like that that I have to remind myself that I can only do what I can do and if people are disappointed in that, then there’s not too much I can do about that either.

There are changes coming, and I suspect that is why things are unsettled. One of the front office staff is leaving soon, and has quit pretending she has any type of professional ethics. Her actions, of course, have a direct impact on the rest of the office. Even though there’s nothing that any of us can do about the situation at the moment, it becomes tedious and frustrating.

Being at work very late two days in a row made today especially tiring for me, and while only the administrators stayed late in the office, everyone else seemed tired as well. My first instinct this morning was to take the day off and just go to my lunch meeting, but instead I went in to work. By mid-day I wished I hadn’t. Between people dumping on me (because I apparently am an easy target) and dealing with the various issues that came up, I left work feeling rather deflated and upset.

In the back of my mind through all of this is the reminder of what time of year this is, and as always, I feel a sense of profound loss as I remember my Mom. Not a day goes by that I do not miss her, but that sense of missing her is heightened these days. She was a remarkable and resplendent woman. She showed great courage, compassion, and love in her words and her actions throughout her life. She lost much as a young child when her mother died when she was four. My grandfather, who died 16 years ago this past February 1, gave her a sense of self-confidence and adventure that she was able to move half-way across the country to join the Navy as a young woman. She graduated from college at a time when it was not all that common for women to do so. She dedicated her life to serving and helping others as a registered nurse. I wish I could recall how many babies she helped deliver during her 40 year career. Asbestos exposure during her naval career ruined her lungs, and greatly diminished her quality of life, but she never gave up hope, and she never quit caring for the people around her.

As grateful as I am for the time I had with her, even though I will always feel it was too short, the world is a less beautiful place without her in it.

Love lingers. Her perfume
I smell all around me. Her voice
I hear soothingly in my dreams
where she still lives. Her touch
awakens my skin and my soul.
Her smile is etched in my mind
where it warms my heart. Her pain
speaks to me of her courage, the
strength of her last days. Her
gentleness is reflected in those
who gave her care. She vanishes.
And I am overwhelmed with grief.
But her love lingers
and gives me strength.
~Richard Fife