for my grandma

Image via WikipediaI hid my tears with sunglasses, a pair of cheap black fake Ray-Bans, that I thought were so cool.

How could she be gone?

The cancer had finally killed her. Her bodily shell lay in the next room, but there was no way I could bear to see it. It wasn't her.

The her I remembered was still in the blue house in that small town, where we used to go on weekends, to have her babysit us while my parents had some quiet time. She would be in the kitchen, cooking up something we hadn't had before, such as creamed peas, or dogfood (round steak in brown gravy over mashed potatoes).

Or perhaps she would be sitting in her brown leather chair, working a crossword puzzle in the TV Guide. Quiet tones from the tv never interrupted our conversations.

I wish I could remember something specific, a bit of advice, that she had given me. I wish I had known her better.

Today, I remember sitting at that conference table, waiting for my dad and aunt to come out of that hospice room--the one I dared not enter. When they finally came, and told me of her last minutes, I felt no relief that her suffering was over. All I could feel was a deep emptiness.

I pushed those feelings so far down inside, to a place where the grief could stay hidden and locked up. It was more than I could bear.

21 years later, I regret the things I did not say--the things I didn't know how to say. I regret my own selfishness. I wish I could hold her lovely aged hands in mine, tell her I love her...

And tell her goodbye.

Dust Motes

photo from psychologytoday.com

Wow. A lot has changed around here since I wrote last. I need to investigate all the changes Blogger has made.

Another year has gone by. I am a year older, and maybe not so much wiser. I lost my job, but then got hired with a new company that does the same kind of work I was doing. I now work harder than I ever have worked in my life. LOL

DD will be in sixth grade this year. How can she be in sixth grade already? My own sixth grade days seem not that long ago.

The best part about time is that it heals all wounds, but lately I have found that I've been missing my grandmas, both of them. I don't know why they've been on my mind so much. I guess I just see DD with her grandmothers, and remember my own happy summer days.

DD and I went swimming at the local pool a weekend ago. It was so fun. She is old enough now to doggie paddle, so she was fearlessly jumping off the diving board. I was shocked that she wanted to try, but she saw other kids doing it--little bitty kids with lifejackets--and she must have decided that she could be brave and do it too.

How she has grown...

I feel like I've regressed in some ways. I haven't written for ages. I get so tired during the day, and when I come home, I just want to brain-rot with Facebook or the tv. Ugh. Same old story. Maybe my heart wasn't in it anymore, either. I have felt creative stirrings recently, and decided to dust the corners of this old haven and see where the path leads me.

The door is open...

all I have to do is step across the threshold.

Test post from my smartphone. Yes, I am now joining the 21st century.

V-Day

Sunday, a day of rest and reflection... well I at least rested, taking a 2 hour nap this afternoon.

Church was interesting this morning, with the readings and homily being about how a person has to choose the correct choices, or at least think very hard before making a choice.

I didn't do anything creative today, yet. I still need to write in my paper journal. I had such a busy weekend, with going to see Jeff Dunham, the comedian, last night. (The show was great, by the way.)

I also fixed stuffed chicken breasts (with the help of County Market) for supper, and a friend of the family had given us some red velvet cupcakes for V-Day. Yum!

Usually, DH and I get cards for one another on V-Day, but this year, we agreed that the comedy show was our present. (I've had the tickets since before Christmas.) I personally think that V-Day is overrated. I would rather have reminders every day that I am appreciated, such as a kind word, or a hug, or the chores done. LOL It's too easy to buy flowers and jewelry. It's hard to say those love words and sincerely mean them.

Tell the important people in your life how much you love them before it's too late. It's one thing I regret about not being in a demonstrative family. Other than in cards, I don't recall saying "I love you" to my grandparents before they passed away. Now, though, I try to tell other family members when I can.

But don't let the words become meaningless, either. Mean them when you say them. Damning with faint praise is worse than never giving praise at all, and so it is with love.