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Been tired here, can’t seem to catch timing right
And would think I would know, things have a habit
of turning differently.
Have walked the dogs, mom & aunt have taken the reins
Of this particular day and I need to step back.
They are happy.
One of those days more frustrating than not
But got what needed doing done and some days?
That is enough.
Met with our old friends today, a reuniting
Over burgers and beer with a sweet chaser
Of remembering you.
In the darkened theater my friend softly
Snores through a needed nap as I watch the
Movie she chose
An adventure of a drab mouse who
Strikes out against the odds to a quiet
Place of courage
A somewhat silly movie I enjoyed as much
For that aspect as the call to charge into ones
Life with belief.
Mom and I do errands, always taking
The long routes through familiar villages
As we like.
She speaks of her childhood, her mother's life
Then dying young and her father dying younger
Of the sugar.
To hear my mother talk, to share the tears
Of the lost times for asking those gone on
We both know.
An old friend and I sip tea and eat
And talk in a restaurant surrounded
By wet marshes
I gaze out the rain streaked windows
Across the gray and ochre wetlands,
With quiet pleasure.
Up at 4am to drive north, mostly smooth.
Listened to old cd's and the songs I had chosen
To honor you,
Emmy Lou & Ian, strong hands & circles,
And songs of winter. Not exactly the season
But plenty fine
To carry me to family and feasting
To carry the sadness, memories, joy
Of loving you.
Christmas Eve, which I have spent alone, preparing to leave
Very early, heading north. It is quiet and cold here and all is
Ready to go.
I am feeling simply quiet, not full but not empty either.
Just a softness of the evening passing, simply letting time
Move me along.
Evening approaches on this date of the year
When the day first begins to grow longer.
It is warm,
I leave to hear the carolling, hold a lit candle aloft
At the little white church nearby, to be with
some good friends
Here, there is a soft drizzle with a good wind which
Rouses through the trees, these are the kind of days I like.
Ever, miss you.
The longest night of the year, time to reflect
On the the darkness we all all go through
Me and you.
Time tomorrow to welcome back the light,
Keeping faith, finding it light in all we see
You and me.
And the past is gone. It must be then,
while in grief, I am upset for some one who
is not there.
A friend wrote this but I did need to change a few
Words, something to someone. This does define simplistically
What grief is.
Sometimes it is needed to define what is past that
Which does carry the present before seeing where the future
can be possible.
Through these wee hours of another day gone
And from waking early yesterday morn has
My soul wept -
In a remembrance only I feel and know- that
On yesterday's date you went willingly to be healed
Trusting it so.
Earlier this eve, friends came by and I cooked for them
As I loved doing for you. My heart yearns for you
Alone with company.
Four years ago that night we slept alone,
Apart but for your ring given into my care
To hold dear.
A small comfort in that large bed,
Waiting, worries for what the morining
Would bring you.
Alone I sleep still but for an errant cat
And for the ring you trusted, a small comfort
I hold dear.
Drove to have dinner at friends’, a great deal
Of laughter and good food, just the two and me.
A fine evening.
Because of this issue I have stayed close to home,
a choice I have rarely opted to exercise these
Past few years,
Choosing to be, BE, just be anywhere but here.
Slowly I have elected to be here rather than engulfed
in large groups.
This weekend, because of this malady, I have been
Alone but not so lonely, keeping company painting,
Just being here.
Not so uncomfortable today so was able to do a few things.
Not so comfortable or unhappy this day; not so happy, it is
What it is.
The past few days have not been good, a continuation
Of the pain that hagged me through Scotland,
PIA for sure
Breakfast before saying farewell, these two friends leave
Under clearing skies. I am glad for their visit. Dogs and
I go walking.
Still, I have done enough to make the place presentable
To my friends coming in and more, enough that I will not
Worry over it.
Instead, will enjoy these few precious days and evenings when
There is company and conversation and laughter from
Sun-up past sun-down.
Since I have been home have spent time with fall chores.
They are needed and I do as I can. It isn't enough to keep
It all up.
Not up and looking great and I do like that, but it is too much
To do that and other chores and paint and consequently none gets
Done very well.
A friend said, what was it? Oh: We can do what
We want. Not only what others want, expect of us.
Whoa, what really?
I have spent a lifetime doing what I have been
Expected to do. Female, maybe, you do thus always.
And I did.
I did...but now? Why? Only if it settles for me.
For me, will it do? If not why do it. This is another
Country to learn.
A front overhead, deep lavender clouds
Obscure the evening star but not the blaze
Along the horizon.
Back on this land, the last home we shared,
Back still considering next steps. My mom
Only gets older.
Is it wrong to know I will miss this pine I lean on
As much as many of the people met? Ah, what gives
Sense of place?
Frankly, I expected to come up on this trip, have
Questions answered and a direction determined
With solid conviction.
Ah well, instead it was one of my more ambivalent
Messy trips, oozing quandries, doube and yet I know
On one level
Being near my mother would be so good for her, and me.
As a widowed friend said: DOn't count on anything but death
To be final.
