how did i get here?
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
it's the middle of the afternoon. i have been working on the Memory Quilts, but i had to go take a short nap, a snap as it were. i can't sleep still. haven't been able to get an entire night - not 6 straight hours since he died. i'm afraid to take the full dosage of the tylenol PM because i get so dopey taking things like Nyquil and Benedryl. i'm a lightweight in the meds department. i don't like being "under the influence" especially now that i'm alone. i'm so tired.
Monday, July 20, 2009
i've been trying to sleep. i can't. obviously. i miss him. i miss him lying beside me. when i had bouts of insomnia i could sneak and hold his hand, or snuggle up against him and smell his skin, feel his warmth, listen to his breathing, and see the rise and fall of his chest in the soft light of the nightlight. his hand would always squeeze mine to let me know he knew i needed him. sometimes he would sleepily whisper, "you okay?" i'd kiss his shoulder and whisper, "yeah." there would be a soft smile that played out over his lips and he would settle back into his deep sleep. i would be reassured. i would be able to fall asleep.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
First, I want to say here, publicly, how much I appreciate what Ann, Supa Dupa, and Widow in the Middle wrote to me on my last blog, Writing in the Sand. I was feeling more melancholy than actually horrible, but in writing it, I have to be honest in saying that I sort of stayed off the computer out of trepidation that no one had gotten on, or they wouldn't leave a comment. There seems to be so many grieving, so many sites that can be read. Mine is just another voice out there in the fog of those of us trying to find our way.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
The long days stretch out before me,
Each world-weary hour is spent alone
Worry and fear, sorrow and longing
Have pulled up chairs at my table,
And linked hands in silent prayer.
Each step I take, each task I perform
Each shuddering breath that comes, each stitch I sew
Are involuntary and done so that I
Continue to endure this life that’s left,
This empty existence that mocks my previous one.
But I continue to get bogged down, slowed,
Forced to my knees in endless pain
Mourning for, grieving for, crying out to
The Dragon who unwillingly died,
For my love who lost his struggle to take another breath.
I live a half-life with a blank public expression
And a sorrowful private one, tears, always tears,
That never stop even when my face is dry.
My cries for my Dragon are loud in my anguished mind
And echo in my shattered heart.
Empty arms drop to my sides from the burden of grief,
From the awareness that there is no Dragon to embrace.
No scaly, scarred dragon with a voice of fire
moves close to my body, next to me, encircles me,
No kindred soul can I feel or sense. I am alone.
No more meeting of true minds and truer hearts
No more tangible love though our love did not die,
Nor ended with the death of the Dragon.
Our love was outside us as well as within
And it endures and has been transformed.
I will never be the same, see the same, or feel the same.
All that I loved, all that I held dear, lived inside of you.
All that is left is a woman who has withdrawn to shadows
Enacting a life that she has scraped together to last.
All that is inside her are the tears she will cry forever, until
Until the woman in shadows and the Dragon are reunited.
Then the stars in the night will twinkle brighter.
The moon will be full as it was the night he died
But this time, it will shine on the couple who loved through time
And found each other again past sorrow, through tears, and beyond death.
Friday, July 10, 2009
someone once loved me, for as long as he could, he loved me. you'd have to know me to comprehend the magnitude of that statement. i've never been loved before. yes, my children love me but i took care of them, i protected them, i guided them and then let them go to live their lives. yes, i had parents but they didn't love me, not like you think parents should or can. i wasn't what they wanted. to my father, i was a female, not a son. to my mother, i wasn't a cheerleader-flirt-most popular blonde in school type of girl. i was a philosopher, someone who studied life and all the minute details that make it what it is, both good and bad. i walked looking either straight down for beautiful rocks, or straight up at clouds, rainbows, birds. my imagination lent itself to wondering what tribe of fairies lived in flowers growing out of the moss rather than what purse went with what outfit. i was a disappointment and she told me so quite often. all the way to her deathbed. "you're not what i wished for; not exactly."
my husband was the only one who wanted to hear my voice. he said he liked the timbre of it. he said i sounded like Suzanne Pleshette and looked like Candace Bergen. i would laugh and clean his glasses. but i would laugh.
there is this scene in the film Titanic in which the wonderful actress, Gloria Stewart who plays the elderly Rose, says, "he save me, in every way a person can save someone." my Marine did that for me. he saved me. and now he's gone. he died just when i was out of the brick tower, just when i thought that, though life had been so bad for the first 40 years, it had saved the best for last for me. well, it only gave me a taste.
i don't talk a lot now. only when my daughter calls, or my son. i wonder if my voice will completely disappear from lack of use. i wonder if what's left of me will start to fade away, like a ghost when someone gets too close. i wonder if there will be any sign that i had ever been here since i've left no real mark on the world. i have my children and they are leaving their mark so in a way i can stand off to the side on that one. but as for being remembered for something? only he would have remembered me. my passing would only have affected him. i think back to his funeral and see all the people who came. then i superimpose my funeral and see only him and my two children sitting there. i kid you not. there is no one that i mean enough to, friend to grieve or foe to dance, for anyone to come. no one knows who i am. no one knows me at all.
no one knows me at all. i'm womanNshadows. i'm sitting just outside the tower wall, by the door, looking for his silhouette against the sun but finding only darkness. how can i endure a lifetime of darkness after having had that one shining moment in the sun, after finally knowing what it feels like to be loved?
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
This is our cove, called Whale Cove. Was our cove. We'd sit on these rocks looking out over the island and the fireworks would be launched out of the harbor, beyond the point on the left side of the photo where the houses are.
It's the Fourth of July here in the U.S.A. It hasn't been my favorite holiday but it can be a good one. family, food, friends, fireworks. As with any holiday it is what you make of it, or can make of it.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
i woke up feeling out of sync. at first i wasn't sure where i was. i didn't hear the ocean. no gulls were annoyingly loud. and i was very much aware that i was alone.