A chronicle of the ups, downs, and in-betweens of my thirty-something life. Seeing life through many different eyes...parenthood, step-parenthood, marriage, approaching middle-age (argh...can't this one wait), all while attempting to find my significance in this world.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

That Song

This week I have heard several renditions of a song that reminded me of loss and unbearable pain; the kind of pain that pierces the essence of who I am. I have heard the song over and over from different artists randomly this week. A song that is so beautiful it would bring me to tears without a deep and heavy hurt to make it more poignant. The same song that I sat and held your hand as you fell into the weakness of your exhaustion, which in three days time would slip you away from us. We both knew as I held your hand, that we were saying goodbye. Your eyes closed, as I held your hand so tightly I could feel your sadness. Tears cascaded down my face, but I dared not allow a sob or sound release from my mouth.  I wanted to spare you the pain of my hurt. But you knew. We listened in silence to that angelic voice sing “In the Arms of an Angel” on the television that night. The song that brought me comfort at the same time as its memory gave me so much pain. I can once again hear the song and not melt into my grief although the words resonate so powerfully within me.  Maybe this means that time is healing my brokenness. Maybe I can find comfort and hope that you are in the arms of an angel. Maybe this was a gift that somehow found its way to my heart. I can only wonder…..

Sunday, June 12, 2011

One Year Later.....

The pain of your loss used to cut through my heart like a knife and I felt the pain radiate throughout my stomach. The unanswered questions and the unknown place of death was and is a foreign concept that I cannot make sense of. It has almost been a year since you have been gone. The pain is now a welcome replacement in my heart, for it keeps the place warm where you once did. The pain of missing you has become my comfort, because the line between love and loss is too hard to find anymore.  With the ache in my heart, I can hold on to you and not be empty without you.  

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Life Goes On

It has been about 7 months since my mom's passing. Life has gotten easier, although I still have moments of disbelief at times. Since there is no guidebook that tells me what comes next in this whole grief thing, it's pretty much up to me to make sense of it all. When a parent dies, people seem to be faced with the concept of their own mortality. Everyone dies, this we know. Although it is healthy to move on, it is amazing how life just sort of falls back in place, compensating for the life that has been lost. Holes left in people's heart are filled with other people or things and sometimes activities. This is the healthy way, as claimed by all the grief professionals, but somehow it seems a little sad. The hearts heal from the wounds of lost, but huge scars are left behind to mark the place.

My dad started dating a woman a little over a month ago and it has gone from casual to almost living together at warp speed. I know that feeling a little uncomfortable with the prospect of my father dating a new woman is expected. I do feel uncomfortable but it is getting a little easier. I have imagined if I were to die, what would I want for my husband? I am sure I wouldn't want him to go through life miserable and lonely. So I accept that people need companionship. Isn't that why we are all built to need each other? As the days turn into months, and the months turn into years since my mother's passing, life seems to go back into their places and as I watch, I am both amazed and perplexed at the same time. But all life's mysteries are both amazing and perplexing so I will adapt and continue on but learning about myself along the way in hopes I can pass some of my understanding along to my children in a way that they will be one step ahead of me at this point in their lives.