Saturday, October 11, 2008
In the nearly 18(!) months since you left this earth, I have busied myself at nearly every opportunity-finishing the kitchen renos, working, traveling, taking care of the dogs/kids/house, adopting Boomie(!!), putting in a full-on garden, etc etc etc-but finally today, the first day in a very long time, my brain is still. Amazing, isn't it? I thought so too.
Oh I did the usual running around today-supermarket, yakking on the phone, home repair( or should I say Boomner repair? Yesterday it was the lamp in the lounge room-Boomie wanted to get to the varmint that was outside of the glass; that damn lamp was just in his way...)computer fun, all the ho-hum mundane chores and routines that feel good now in their familiarity.
My movements today were slower than my normal reckless( at times) pace and were also very deliberate; spending heaps of time outside in the yard always makes me happy-wow, is that a relative term in my vocabulary now-and I loved how I could almost feel the blue of the sky as it enveloped the earth.
It was both an ordinary yet magical day.
Mikey's in town so we went to the Tom Thumb-we walked-and laughed because we bought way too many groceries to walk home with comfortably, LOL. We did manage, however, and it was great to exercise, talk , and get a chore done all at the same time.
We shared the grass cutting as well-with my funky old-time reel mower.
That thing is pretty amazing, and I especially love the workout. We cleaned up that garden/yard a bit and then I threw chicken and salsa in the crockpot with a zillion veggies and he and I shared that for dinner.
I could just hear your voice saying, "Smells good honey!" :)
We would have eaten outside, but Mikey and I chose to watch the baseball playoff game instead. It's still going on as I type at midnight-12 innings, all tied-jeeze! Close games are always fun. Go Tampa Bay!
However, stillness is not what I expected today.
In fact, I never expect it anymore.
I know I need heaps of it, but I push it away-with to-do lists and chores and organizing and filing and writing-afraid that my grief will settle into the very cells that make up the marrow of my bones should I stay still long enough for it to really find me.
Today I have made peace with Sir Grief just a tiny bit more.
(And yes, I believe grief would be male-it could never be female, there is too much suffering involved) I know, sweets, that you will always be my first and last thoughts in my waking hours. That's a given.
I am not going to fight that battle anymore, for to quote one of our fave Star Trek movie lines, "Resistance is futile." (pronounced prop-ly, as Few-Tile)
Stillness itself is a Zen koan; an unanswerable riddle that makes one think. It's not the kind of thinking of an over-scheduled mind crammed to the brim with the flotsam and jetsam of everyday life, but rather that delicate introspection that comes when one looks deeply into the soul's mirror.
You were my mirror for such a long time, babe, that I forgot how to gaze into one alone. I believe I did that today, however; looking into the blue sky and the clouds beyond and later, looking up at the stars tonight-and as I see the universe, I see myself. Expanding and contracting at the same time; bursts of energy and places of ghastly black hole death; orchestrated atoms dancing to the tune of life itself.
Is this like the quiet that comes before a storm? Or is this more the calming of the water of grief, the settling in of the life that is now mine? Hmmm...
"Speaking comes by nature. Silence by wisdom."
Not sure who said that, but I remember it because it always made sense to me.
Maybe I am FINALLY gaining some kind of concrete knowledge about our situation.
I know that if tears are the IQ of grief, then I am Einstein's illegitimate twin :P
Watching John Edward always does me good. It makes me think of you as still approachable. Right or wrong, it helps. That's all that matters, right honey?
Stillness. I hope to find more of it everyday.
I wish it for all of us whom you left behind on your journey through forever, for I believe it is the beginning of peace in our hearts.
Love you Dazzy. Always.