Monday, January 07, 2019

New land 2019

Wow.

It is hard to believe we have moved and are now in New Bern NC.  I find this move challenging in so many ways--leaving behind my family and friends again.  I moved back in the 80s to Newark Ohio when going through my divorce.  Then moved back home in 2002 when Sarah had moved to pursue her relationship with Christopher.  I stayed there--eventually moving back into our beach cottage in 2004 and stayed there till we moved a month ago.

Just wow....so here I am.  In a whole new land.  Unpacking and choosing what can stay, what will be part of the journey here.  It has been sort of deeply freeing in a way...a finding of myself in a place I haven't really taken the time to do ever...seems like careers, and other things always banter for time and your energy. 

I am sitting in what will be my new studio.  Oddly enough, in the last year as we considered relocation--to who knows where, I began to feel I had outgrown the space Rick had created for me.  It felt tight, I worked more in the garage...yet still loved being in there.  As I began to pack last June--I started with my Sarah's corner--a place to honor and remember...and just savor my heart. 

I tucked away these precious few things I had kept to remind me...to treasure and keep...little things...of no value to anyone but me...

So now, here I am in a whole new place, touching and feeling these same things again...trying to discover if they will find a home here..and oddly enough...some are and some are not.  I find myself entering a new season of what it is like to live while missing your sweet daughter...who is gone over 10 years...tender is my heart with this...

I can hardly find words that help this even make sense...My word for 2019 is Pilgrimage...and it is a deep and full word...I've been on this for many years, yet this year, it makes sense to hold it before me.  A pilgrim is a brave soul willing to venture forth to a new land...to discover...what will be discovered. 

A pilgrim can't carry too much or your hands will be too full to touch and embrace anything new...so the treasure box is a place you can leave things to venture forth.  I am doing this every day right now--it is part of this new season.  A season closer to heaven too for me.  I don't want to hold onto anything that keeps me from doing this, so am being quite brave...

I have had a rich and full life...and am so very grateful.  I wish Sarah were here to see and know...yet, I don't think I would be doing this is my life were full of her and her children and life to be lived with that gift.....
Rick's kids and grands are all beginning to live their own lives--as they are older.  I hope we are good examples of living full.

So, here it is, today...a day I am beginning to see a new land, a new place to live from...thankful for Rick.  Memories of my sweet Sarah C...tucked in my heart...Hoping to someday tell her I was brave enough to keep on and live from a fullness...coraggio...

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

remembering the beginnings of honoring the day

today is the day before you died in 2007.  it is early.  I wake up and ache.  I try to go back to sleep.  no chance of that.
I come to this blog to write.  I don't know what I will write, I just hope it will get some of the ache out of my fingers where it feels so very full.

I go to my pictures and find these--the very first time we crossed the day you died...and we took some of your ashes and put them into Lake Erie, on your beach, "Sarah's beach".

Many came that year-to be together, to honor a life, to be near each other...still lost in this whole thing...

Sue had tshirts make for us--we bought them from her to get money raised for your scholarship fund--for art therapy students-Chris's idea...which is still going on.

I forgot that all these people came that day--and stayed and ate and drank and told Sarah stories...this cottage was full...full of ones who loved you so.  tears...toasts...this is the day it began...remembering you.

now it is year 11.

quieter now.  no party.  trying to figure out what to do tomorrow to honor you.  

I get lost.  so do others still.  the hallway is quiet on this side of heaven.  we who are still here just hang hard onto hope.

Hope

I Hope in heaven.  

I hope I see you again.

All will be made new.

Trust.

Believe.

But right now in the midst if remembering that you had your last full wonderful day of life with Chris today in Italy---and had no idea it was your last...my oh my...that is a place I walk so softly through.

Memories--tomorrow brings some of the worst for me.  my fingers search the keys on this keyboard for what is trying to be said....like a dance they move but do not type, searching...searching..

so, I will go now and drink some coffee.  I will listen to the rain.  I will hope in heaven.  I will trust.
I will live today. 

I will be gentle today with me, with others who don't know my sore momma's heart.  I will lean against Rick, the gift God gave to me to walk out this journey for now...and be thankful.  

I miss you sweet girl.  I miss you.










                                           sweet uncle Tim...playing for you


                                                      Yagabanuch toasts began this day.






                                              Rick and our kids, never knew their sister.


                                 so many of your friends who miss you...…


                                        so many came, I had forgotten all who did.




                              Your boss and dear friend, they honored your memory, an art room dedicated and scholarship created and maintained.




                            my dear friends who come up from Neward….here to honor you



                        a silly picture, but St Francis was dear to us in Le Spezia


                                               my sister and Shari....my dear ones





                                           family



                              My dear, dear son...so proud of him...living as well as he can, brave...loved.

Friday, September 21, 2018

September 21, 2018




It is almost 11 years since you died such a hard death.  I am slipping into the season of many memories of last moments together, the Mediterranean cruises and where we were going to meet you as you and Chris backpacked...

 It isn't something you can avoid-but begins to feel much like taking a step out on the rope like a trapeze artist does, only I haven't had any training.

You would think after almost 11 years, it would begin to have some sense of order and map, but unfortunately, it doesn't.

The heart has it's own way...and to listen to your heart means, you don't naturally know where you are going each moment of the September days-and many other ones that bring sweet memories--birthdays, holidays, etc.



 Of course there are the wonderful toasts made by those who have words to share...often bringing tears.




but me...her mom....well...I see everyone around me missing you and know how much you are trying to walk and encourage...and there is this very quiet place of aloneness...like when you were in my womb...a closeness of the 2 of us, you moving and only me knowing.  I know you were married, had a wonderful love with your dear husband...but a mom has a tender place of knowing you from the moment you first moved...the light feeling making your presence known.







This picture kinda reminds me of you--you have no idea, or maybe you do---how often I see a woman who resembles you--the was she walks, sits like this picture shows...and I remember....






the sand covers so much as the wind blows...removing the path from last year...searching for clues of how to navigate this again.








the quietness in my heart---trying to peer into heaven, to hear your voice, to get a clue you are fully alive....more alive than you ever were...these are thoughts often in my mind....




a message--washing up on the shore of my heart...I get them sometimes in a dream or someone writes to me--just got one from a woman who also almost died in Riamaggiore when she was there in 2010, as she was also caught by a large wave and tossed around and around till she thought she was gone too....she told me she this, "I watched many scenes from my life flash before my eyes. It sounds scary, but it wasn't. I saw the faces of all the people I love most and felt all the love and fulfillment in the world. There were no feelings of fear or anger or regret or anything like that. It was peaceful and calm.

How would she ever know that I wonder this all the time...what were you thinking as you were dying....



                                          and so we go on...looks large and long- this journey




 I know this is weird, but we bought those new shoes for you for your hiking...and they were lost at sea...where did they ever end up...I just wonder.



and there are times I can feel your breath...and our noses touching...near, laughing, close....

 I can see you small on our beach...Sarah's beach....


 I catch you sometimes..and turn and you are not there....


 My heart feels like a suitcase I keep packed and closed mostly...so I can live...but sometimes it all fall out and it is like this in September...and then I must pack it all again...


 and journey on...



 I write some, but words don't seems to form in me as often the are of this world.


 and I point to heaven...to my hope...

 I send you messages every chance I can...if someone I know might be dying...I tell them to tell you hello...I wonder if that actually works and smile...



 I ache.  my arms are empty...I can feel you held close to me...against my body...and miss you.



 you brought so much joy...to so many....thank you for your presence to this life, to this earth...


 I am blessed with the greatest gift...my dear husband, who misses you so...and can't wait to meet you again.  He is so sad too.

 full moons...are the Father showing me He is near...

 I still have your last flipflops..and wear them...and feel you.  It works.





 but sometimes, like this sacred time, I am just flat out.  I am weary of this journey.  I ache...

I will just be still and keep breathing.  I know many who also walk this road of loss.  We touch hands and look at one another and smile.  it is an encouragement to me.  I recently got to meet Betty...who lost her daughter Debbie.  Betty is 95 and she has great faith.  I hugged her and told her if she gets to heaven before me to tell Sarah I love her.  We held each other so close...I don't have the picture right now, but I surely love her.

so, here we go, sacred steps.  a time with your friends and my sister and your dad's sister...to watch a video about your after HS graduation thoughts--a hysterical video...but tender moments together for sure...It will be good, but not stop the ache.  Nothing does.  It just is grief.