Saturday, June 11, 2016

Sorting through the ash

How interesting, a draft from 2014. It is now 2016.

International Day of Prayer 2016,
Catoctin Mountain Park, Thurmont, MD

Mom is getting ready to turn 75 and Dad died the summer of 2012 with father-in-law 6 months later the same year. The truth seems to be that I never seem to relax. I seem to be waiting for the next shoe to drop.

A beloved member of the mediation group died of cancer May, Friday the 13th, 2016. His memorial service was earlier today, the same day my grandson had his first recital playing the guitar. No way to attend both events. The widow encouraged me to attend to the living.

From 2014:

It's been two years now since Dad died. I wasn't sure what to expect.

As it turns out, there is a slow thaw around his death for me. It gets complicated by the family dynamics of kids doing their things and mom recently having, what I refer to as, her dry run at having a stroke a few weeks ago. She's returning back to work - she's 73 years old, and driving.

I was feeling a bit edgy last week. Friends have had elders and parents die within the past few weeks. I attended a funeral for a co-worker's parent.

The truth is: as my own children are finding their way and settling a bit, I can relax enough to feel. My grandson turned seven-years old in May and recently spent a few nights with us without his parents. After seeing him biweekly for his first four years of life and then losing much of that time with him as a result of a divorce and other family dynamics, this is indeed tender time.

It is a tricky thing these defense mechanisms. I'm reading John Gottman's book called The Science of Trust. For me, it is a slow read because I am trying to take it all in.

One of the ideas is that if we experience things negatively, then we keep using that lens and dismiss the positive.

This is such work for me (a positive, hopeful view) as I feel like the Other Shoe is always dropping. How does one experience mental illness, addiction, physical illness, poverty and death as positive?

As the thaw takes place, what I am aware of is how much I am afraid to love. I don't want to be hurt. I don't want to lose my beloveds. Death is that sharp edge always waiting around the corner to steal away Life.

Writing continues to be a struggle. But what is the point of living if there isn't life to live? Music and making cards seem to be my best hope. Work is work.

On my Fridge is a quote from Leonard Cohen:
Poetry is just the evidence of life.
If your life is burning well, 
poetry is just the ash.
Here's to the ash!

And back to 2016:
Here is to Vic! 

And to the living, 
beloved Grandson.