Broken burning Heart
My incredible Dad died a week ago. Last night he was cremated in a place called Acacia in Seattle. The funeral director, an amazingly compassionate young woman named Joan, made it easier for me than it might have been, and still I howled with grief, alone, miserable, inconsolable last night. My papa, who loved me so much, gave me so much support every day of my life, my beautiful incredible friend. Ah, I tell myself death is so natural, and that I can take about his passing, just barely. But the thought of his dear body burning was just too much for me. And the fact that now his ashes will be mailed up here to me, convenient but earth shattering.
Also, I have anger about how he was catapulted into his last dying week by the unthinking prescription of a scopolamine patch by a doctor who had never known him. The thought of that little round bandage he so trustingly wore behind his ear which caused him to throw himself out of bed with convulsions reminds me of when I was a little girl and the feeling I had when he accidentally walked right into the edge of my bedroom door after tucking me in and broke his glasses. How dare the universe hurt this man? He is my beloved father and I want to protect him from all harm. Yet I signed the papers, as was his will, that caused him to be burned up. He was no longer alive, but I still want NO HARM to come to him. My faith is hard to find in this regard.
Lopez is such a wonderful place to be during crisis. People hug me all over the place. Write cards, understand my grief. Even at work, I get time off when I just can't do it anymore.
And there are such layers arriving. Memories of my mother, grandparents, others gone on...Jeff, my marriage, long over. I find old journals as I make room to squeeze my dad's desk into my room....a love letter from my husband, funny comments my kids made when they were young.
I am concerned that I have contributed in derailing an existing friendship by possible thoughtlessness and selfish actions. I need to focus elsewhere, life feels out of control job-wise, relationship-wise, too much stuff-wise. But that is normal for what's going on. Breathe.
So I am doubly bereaved. And yet, so blessed too, of course, to have had so much love in this life. I am still alive. I must act so, with all the grace and energy and love and compassion I can muster. I ask for help, from the sources beyond who are in line with that infinite compassion and love. With music please. "And when I have required some heavenly music, which even now I do." The next line is about breaking the magic staff, but right now I need one not to be broken...
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Monday, August 4, 2014
August 4th, 2014
Wow, a whole year since I've posted, close enough, but maybe that little bit of month counts for something. I really do like writing, it's therapeutic for one thing. Mysterious too, who knows who will read it and maybe enjoy it a little? Or think they understand a bit? On the other hand, it's mostly for me, so it doesn't matter if a reader finds this too banal or boring.
I am now reading Heft by Liz Moore for my south end Ladies Book Club. I can't believe it's been a whole year since I read Fault in Our Stars. Heft is about an immensely fat but very bright man, desperately lonely, who hasn't left his house in years. I like it, there's a fat lonely man in me, I think.
I'm also reading Plover by Brian Doyle. He wrote Mink River, which I loved, about a fictional but wonderful little town in Oregon. I have a dear friend who doesn't like his writing based on having heard him speak. I love that I can respect her for that and still enjoy his writing myself very much indeed. It doesn't bother me when writers are egotistical and go on and on about themselves. I wonder why but am glad about it.
I am struck by how similar my life is right now to last year. Dad is now a very very frail 93 year old man. I am still working at the library, still wanting healthy intimate relationship which I do not have yet, but don't despair, I am on the right path...I had a relationship this year that didn't work out and I think I learned a few things from it. For one thing, do NOT have sex without a condom! It's bad for the woman usually, for me it was two rounds of antibiotics and a case of my old nemesis Trichomonas. I'm almost fond of those squiggly little protozoas, so much bigger than bacteria, that you can actually see under a microscope: the most common curable STD, according to one Google site. The antibiotics gave me thrush though, and now I am dutifully taking yet another round, prophylactically, in preparation for dental implant surgery tomorrow. I'm not anxious about it though, as it's my decision and I like the surgeon very much. It'll be interesting to have a tooth again where I've been missing one for many years. As far as the relationship with my German friend, well, nothing like having to take antibiotics to dull romance. Plus, he wouldn't accept that he was responsible. Too bad for the next lover he has. People are funny. I enjoyed his wit and charm and boyishness. And the sex, that was fun too. But I didn't trust the genuineness of the relationship. Whatever that means. More of a reflection on me than on him, I admit. And at least we tried.
And now it is August again. In a couple of days it will be the 20th anniversary of Jeff's passing. Damn. I visited with one of his best friends the other day. Jeff's death was almost as devastating for him as for me. We have that in common. He's an interesting person who now lives in Costa Rica with his wonderful wife and has told me to come visit. Hmmm. That would be an adventure, indeed.
I am working up, very slowly it seems, to changing my working schedule. Dad is not as slowly moving toward his end. I want to be there more for him, he deserves some fun. I am sensing that I don't have a lot more time to make that happen for him.
I went out to Iceberg yesterday by myself, by bike and hoof, and found a nice little isolated cove where the salty sea came lapping in very gently. Managed to get into the water naked for a splash. Found a comfortable place to knit, trespassed a little bit at the very end of the public land and ate my lunch. Beautiful sunny day. I am so lucky that I live in a place where I can find privacy on a day like that, in a gorgeous place. I thought a lot about what I should do next. It is still scary money-wise to quit my job, but most signs point to yes. I really need to make that appointment with the Department of Retirement down in Tumwater. Wonder what's holding me up?
I even still have both my old kitties, though Ceredwyne is incredibly skinny and will only consume chicken baby food now. She likes it a lot though, eating as much as a whole jar of it a day.
I have a feeling we won't all survive the winter coming up. Hattie and Babylon are coming for a visit from Ohio, second time this year, thanks to Dad's financial help. He melts when 13 year old great granddaughter Hattie hugs him.
Courage! Let us face the day, and find meaningful moments in our surprising interactions, small kindnesses in our forgiving hearts, and comfort in our love for ourselves, each other and the Great Mother, who quietly sustains us silly human beans, day after day, year after year, decade after decade, like grains of sand, falling safely onto its own small soft mountain which She could blow apart with one puff, but chooses instead, mostly, usually, to cradle in her hands and sing to.
I am now reading Heft by Liz Moore for my south end Ladies Book Club. I can't believe it's been a whole year since I read Fault in Our Stars. Heft is about an immensely fat but very bright man, desperately lonely, who hasn't left his house in years. I like it, there's a fat lonely man in me, I think.
I'm also reading Plover by Brian Doyle. He wrote Mink River, which I loved, about a fictional but wonderful little town in Oregon. I have a dear friend who doesn't like his writing based on having heard him speak. I love that I can respect her for that and still enjoy his writing myself very much indeed. It doesn't bother me when writers are egotistical and go on and on about themselves. I wonder why but am glad about it.
I am struck by how similar my life is right now to last year. Dad is now a very very frail 93 year old man. I am still working at the library, still wanting healthy intimate relationship which I do not have yet, but don't despair, I am on the right path...I had a relationship this year that didn't work out and I think I learned a few things from it. For one thing, do NOT have sex without a condom! It's bad for the woman usually, for me it was two rounds of antibiotics and a case of my old nemesis Trichomonas. I'm almost fond of those squiggly little protozoas, so much bigger than bacteria, that you can actually see under a microscope: the most common curable STD, according to one Google site. The antibiotics gave me thrush though, and now I am dutifully taking yet another round, prophylactically, in preparation for dental implant surgery tomorrow. I'm not anxious about it though, as it's my decision and I like the surgeon very much. It'll be interesting to have a tooth again where I've been missing one for many years. As far as the relationship with my German friend, well, nothing like having to take antibiotics to dull romance. Plus, he wouldn't accept that he was responsible. Too bad for the next lover he has. People are funny. I enjoyed his wit and charm and boyishness. And the sex, that was fun too. But I didn't trust the genuineness of the relationship. Whatever that means. More of a reflection on me than on him, I admit. And at least we tried.
And now it is August again. In a couple of days it will be the 20th anniversary of Jeff's passing. Damn. I visited with one of his best friends the other day. Jeff's death was almost as devastating for him as for me. We have that in common. He's an interesting person who now lives in Costa Rica with his wonderful wife and has told me to come visit. Hmmm. That would be an adventure, indeed.
I am working up, very slowly it seems, to changing my working schedule. Dad is not as slowly moving toward his end. I want to be there more for him, he deserves some fun. I am sensing that I don't have a lot more time to make that happen for him.
I went out to Iceberg yesterday by myself, by bike and hoof, and found a nice little isolated cove where the salty sea came lapping in very gently. Managed to get into the water naked for a splash. Found a comfortable place to knit, trespassed a little bit at the very end of the public land and ate my lunch. Beautiful sunny day. I am so lucky that I live in a place where I can find privacy on a day like that, in a gorgeous place. I thought a lot about what I should do next. It is still scary money-wise to quit my job, but most signs point to yes. I really need to make that appointment with the Department of Retirement down in Tumwater. Wonder what's holding me up?
I even still have both my old kitties, though Ceredwyne is incredibly skinny and will only consume chicken baby food now. She likes it a lot though, eating as much as a whole jar of it a day.
I have a feeling we won't all survive the winter coming up. Hattie and Babylon are coming for a visit from Ohio, second time this year, thanks to Dad's financial help. He melts when 13 year old great granddaughter Hattie hugs him.
Courage! Let us face the day, and find meaningful moments in our surprising interactions, small kindnesses in our forgiving hearts, and comfort in our love for ourselves, each other and the Great Mother, who quietly sustains us silly human beans, day after day, year after year, decade after decade, like grains of sand, falling safely onto its own small soft mountain which She could blow apart with one puff, but chooses instead, mostly, usually, to cradle in her hands and sing to.
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