how did i get here?

my husband, my beautiful Dragon, died suddenly at 12:03 AM on 9 February 2009. there was a cold, lovely full moon and 3 feet of snow on the ground. i "slept" for the following 10 months and "woke" to the physical and emotional pain and torments of deep grief. i "woke" to find i had moved the day of his funeral and that i am lost. i am looking for me while i figure out the abstract, unanswerable questions that follow behind any death. my art has evolved. his death changed that as well because i am forever changed and will forever bear the mark of losing the only man i can ever love.
there is alive and there is dead and there is a place in between. i am here wholly in my heart for my children, but i feel empty inside at this time. i miss him. i have not gotten very far in my grief journey. i make no apologies for this.
this is my place, my blog, where i write to tell the universe that i am still here.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Easter ~ John 3:16

i have been through an Easter without Dragon; i just do not remember it. my memory has always been creepy. i remember everything. everything. i remember being 3 years old and pissing my father off by crying. he wanted me to grow up. i remember what i was wearing. i remember the sun on my legs and arms. i remember his angry face. he did not want to deal with a crying child, and a little girl? he had wanted a son.

i remember everything. all through my years.

but i do not have much of a memory of day-to-day life from my Dragon's funeral on until about Thanksgiving. i don't even remember being at my daughter's wedding. i know i worked my tushy off. i know i made everything. i remember snatches of being with her and selecting fabrics and colors of embroidery floss. but they are more dreamlike memories. nothing clear or lasting.

i know last Easter my son got to come up for the short weekend. i don't remember what i cooked. my daughter tells me i had a dazed or distant look in my eyes for months. they worried about me. but i do remember Thanksgiving. i remember everything up through Christmas, and on until now. i guess my mind was protecting me as best as it could.

and now it's another Easter. without my Dragon. another.
old photos. you've seen them. they are generic for so many emotions. the one above is what i wish i were doing right now. the one below is my reality.
but it is Easter and i had gone to be early. i had finished Suddenwidow's quilt sort of early but i was very tired. i went to bed to read and try to sleep. {if you're reading, i'll email you the tracking number tomorrow night. so Dan, Tuesday the Michael quilt will be in full swing, my focus totally on it. and Supa, i have my sketches set for your daughter's jeans. i am going out tomorrow with my daughter for some floss i'll need. sparkly floss. i think she's going to like them. =0) }

since i went to bed earlier than i usually do, my dogs wanted to go out fairly early this morning. dawn was still a suggestion. birds were still silent. i looked up and saw the waning moon to the west and one single star. Shakespeare wrote in Romeo and Juliet, "o, swear not by the moon, by the inconstant moon....." he was pointing out the moon's constantly changing appearance and path across the sky were an unreliable vision to swear by. but it is not the moon that changes, it is the sun and the earth that make the moon seem inconstant. it is there, waiting, patient. like i must believe my Dragon is, or i will hit the ground, hit the wall, and never recover.

it is Easter and being outside so early, seeing the constant vigil the moon keeps over us, over me, and seeing that one single shining star brought this to my mind. shame. shame to have my fears. shame to doubt. shame at myself when others have such assurances.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life."

it is Easter morning, Dragon, my love. and you are constantly in my thoughts. as constant as the moon.

3 comments:

Debbie said...

Happy Easter. I was just thinking about how I'm in the same location I was last Easter yet I don't remember last Easter, which happened only weeks after Austin died. I don't remember driving 6 hours here and 6 hours home. I don't remember anything, and like you, my memory has only started getting a little more reliable again. Grief is so overwhelming and exhausting.

I look forward to seeing my quilt, wrapping myself in it and letting the tears flow. Then, the smiles will come, as I remember the memories associated with each piece of fabric. Because my memories of him are still strong, it's the past year that has the sketchy memories.

Your love is watching over you and is waiting for you. You will be reunited with him in heaven when it is your time. Thank you for blessing all of us with your creative talents and your friendship while you are waiting to be with your Dragon again. You are a blessing to all of out here in cyberspace.

Judy said...

We know we will be reunited with loved ones that have gone on before us--without Resurrection Sunday--without Easter, we would not have this assurance. It is such a wonderful gift you are giving with your quilts. A renewal of pieces of cloth which hold precious memories for the people who receive your artistic gift. Spring has come--new life is on the land and I hope, a renewal of your spirit.

Dan said...

It is late at night, and I'm afraid that Easter Sunday passed within the last hour for us here on the west coast. But I did want to wish you a Happy Easter, and all the love and joy that assurance of the resurrection can bring.

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