Happy Spring
Easter. A time of spring, rebirth. Life.
Shock of my mom's death has been slowly lifting. Grief is a verb, not a noun. A process, a journey, like life itself.
Both of our parents died suddenly. Dad had esophageal cancer - 6 weeks from diagnosis until his passing in June of 2004. Mom - lung cancer - one week from diagnosis until her passing January 2014.
I was still processing her dementia when she died. In spite of her illness, she still had a wicked sense of humor and gave really good advice. She wasn't always sure where she was, who she was with or the year it was, but does that shit really matter anyway?
Shock of my mom's death has been slowly lifting. Grief is a verb, not a noun. A process, a journey, like life itself.
Both of our parents died suddenly. Dad had esophageal cancer - 6 weeks from diagnosis until his passing in June of 2004. Mom - lung cancer - one week from diagnosis until her passing January 2014.
I was still processing her dementia when she died. In spite of her illness, she still had a wicked sense of humor and gave really good advice. She wasn't always sure where she was, who she was with or the year it was, but does that shit really matter anyway?
Lately I take late afternoon, early evening walks. I imagine Mom and me walking together, arms linked, taking in all the beautiful flowers. She had a helluva an eye for flowers, and had the most beautiful gardens. Alzheimer's so seriously sucks - as she got sicker, she thought weeds were flowers and flowers weeds. Her gardens became overgrown, even though she did her best to tend to them.
Creativity has been a guidepost through the murkiness of grief, loss and sadness. While Mom was alive and so sick, at times it was difficult to know what would help me through the grief of losing her before my eyes. Now that she is gone and there is nothing left to do but feel, I have been finding what sustains and carries me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not sad all the time - it just pops up out of nowhere at times. And holidays bring up memories. For me, it's easier if I'm guiding the grief, rather than letting it take me for a ride.
So, I've been writing like a crazy person. I've always written poetry, prose, some short stories (need to finish what I've started :) ) And I've been taking pictures of everything. Flowers, beaches, sunsets, sunrises, people, public transit, trains, food (like this photo - taken with my iPhone). When I photograph flowers, she is with me. I notice the way light hits and bounces off petals, the fragrance of each flower, the intricacies and delicateness of nature.
They say time heals. I say time heals with active participation in the process. Feeling the feelings, seeking and finding joy, beauty and love and being present in each moment. Cause this too shall pass. Here is to rebirth, spring and life.
Back at ya sis :)