January 26, 2009 · here’s the deal

snowflake1.jpg

okay, so here’s the deal: Maybe you have noticed that I haven’t been blogging a lot recently. There are reasons for that. December was kind of brutal for me emotionally as perhaps was to be expected. First birthday without my mother, first Christmas without my mother. And things started sliding sideways then rapidly downhill with my dad and his health. I’m hoping that things are on the upswing again, but the reality is my brother and I are having to confront some very hard realities and it’s not an easy thing to do in the wake of our mother’s death.

I’m dealing with loss on an hourly basis, trying to keep my wounds sewn up, keep myself whole, keep myself together. The threads binding me together at the moment are tenuous, easily tugged out, easily dissolved with tears. I soldier on. I keep working to mend the split seams, keep weaving that needle in and out, and I will keep doing it as long as I have to because I promised my mother I would not let this wreck me, that I would move forward, that I would live fully. But it’s hard work. It’s exhausting. There are lovely gracious people in my life who thread the needle for me sometimes, who patch me up when they can, as gently as they can, and I am so grateful for them and don’t tell them how much I appreciate it nearly enough. Ultimately, though, I’m the only one who can repair my gutted middles, heal my hurts.

But the thing is, my life, my woe, is not really something I want to share here. Recounting every stitch is not helpful to me right now. I don’t want to become all about my pain. That’s not really my nature. I’m a bit of a Pollyanna at heart. I’m the glass half full type, an optimist albeit a sort of left-handed optimist. At least I used to be. At least that’s how I remember myself. And I liked that about myself. I don’t want to become the antithesis of that. There is so much sad in the world already, so much sorrow.

And so I avoid this space when I’m coming all undone, unravelled. I avoid this space when I am in the process of trying to knit myself whole again. And on those occasions when I feel sufficiently patched up enough to move a little bit forward, to make some headway, I do just that… and only that. And again, this page lays untouched.

And yet I’m not willing to let it go right now. I’m not willing to shut down shop, turn out the lights. In a way this site keeps me in touch with my better self, the self I strive to be. It is my window on the world, the chink of light which falls to reveal that I have not disappeared all together, I have not evaporated into nothing. Not yet, anyway.

So I’ve been in a mild dither about what to do with it. What can I do that says in a friendly way I’m still here, I’m still trying, I’m still breathing in and out every day, I’m still sewing, I’m still hoping… and yet doesn’t tax my sore brain, my strained seams, my flagging energy?

I’ve decided to give this a go: I’m not going to try to write in a personal way any more. For the time being at least. I’m not going to attempt to journal what is going on with me, where I’m at. Instead, I’m going to post here the little things that make me feel a tiny bit better, prop them up here like a bright pot of flowers on my windowsill. And hope that that is enough to encourage the sun to seek me out sometimes.



14 Comments so far

14 Comments »

  1. O! Honeybunny wee!! Those of us who know you through this blog know when something is up. You don’t have to explain yourself or worry about when and what you do with your time online. We’re here for you when you need us, and all we hope for is the best for you. We, or at least, I welcome to the chance to be one of those that helps thread the needle on occasion. I think, when things are going askew that getting comfort in any place possible is only ever a good thing. Hang in there, darling dear!! ((((HUGS)))

    Comment by lizardek — January 27, 2009 @ 12:32 am

  2. I am very sorry for your loss. My thoughts are with you, and I am sending virtual hugs your way. Take Care.

    Taylor

    Comment by Taylor — January 27, 2009 @ 6:37 am

  3. I love your little bits of pretty that you share and having to put yourself out there for our sake? Not necessary – you just take care of you and I’m pretty sure all of us will understand. Good thoughts and hugs to you and yours!

    Comment by Amber — January 27, 2009 @ 6:50 am

  4. oh you are so wise. so wise. what a wonderful approach– there’s a beautiful blog I discovered recently, one-perfect-thing.blogspot and that’s what she shares– one image and it is SO fulfilling– I love it– and I support you so much as you move through this place– sending you love love love and more love

    Comment by Elizabeth — January 27, 2009 @ 9:21 am

  5. I will always read whatever you feel like writing.

    Blogs are funny things. After we’ve lived with them awhile, we feel obligated to them. Not even necessarily to readers, but to the blog itself. As though in our need to keep ourselves tended to in other places, we are neglecting some nameless thing which is just a slice of the big www but has come to mean more than that.

    I knew there were things unsaid and that feeling them is overwhelming enough that you probably don’t need to be spilling your stuffing all over here. It is a thing I used to do and I am just too exhausted to do it anymore. Blogs wax and wane, I think.

    I am sorry you need to be sewn, but I am glad that you are doing it, and allowing others to whipstitch as required.

    Spring is coming, Wee.

    Comment by Karen — January 27, 2009 @ 1:20 pm

  6. O! O! O! I LOVE this idea. Truly, I think it is genius. More genius than Bose-Einstein condensates! And whether you come here or not, you and your seams are much loved.

    Comment by otter — January 27, 2009 @ 4:57 pm

  7. It sounds to me like you know just what you need from this blog, and how much you have available to give it. That’s quite amazing in itself. Take care of yourself first. {{wee}}

    Comment by Auntly H — January 27, 2009 @ 6:12 pm

  8. Oh Wee, please do whatever is best for YOU. I understand your pain…you know my dad died (after a yearlong illness) in October. The thing that keeps me together is that I am spending loads of time with my mom and helping her to find her new world. Please take care, dear Wee. And write whatever you will…we love you and it’s not only your heartfelt personal posts that make us feel that way, though it is what binds us to you so closely, I suppose. Be whatever you need to be right now. It’s early days, yet.

    Comment by violetismycolor — January 27, 2009 @ 8:53 pm

  9. take all the time you need for yourself. hurting is something common to all humankind. you are not alone.

    Comment by sonrie — January 28, 2009 @ 9:29 am

  10. You are beautiful & wise & strong.

    Do you still have the doctor’s prescription I gave you or do I have to write you another one? :)

    xoxo

    Comment by christine — January 28, 2009 @ 9:31 am

  11. I hate those harsh realities and believe me I know them. Do whatever you need in tems of writing, or not.

    Comment by crazymumma — January 28, 2009 @ 12:30 pm

  12. It’s my first visit, and I’m so very sorry to hear of your painful loss. I truly cannot imagine what you are going through, but time will heal and the love and memories will comfort. This may not be what you want to hear, but give yourself the freedom to grieve and heal. Embrace your mother as though she is there, because I believe our loved ones never leave our hearts.

    Peace.

    Comment by get zapped — January 28, 2009 @ 1:40 pm

  13. Make your window pretty. Smell those paper flowers up. But don’t breathe them up too hard. Nose paper cuts smart. And by that I mean they hurt, they’re really not smart at all.

    Be well, you. You deserve happy.

    Comment by Woman in a window — January 28, 2009 @ 7:39 pm

  14. Oh lovely Wee, we all know that this is a hard time, a hard year, a hard season, for you. There is so much love for you and I’m glad you’re going to treat this place as your little plot of good things, to help you along. And you’re still crazy about snowflakes! I love it.

    Comment by Sam — February 4, 2009 @ 7:23 am

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