Saturday, January 30, 2016

the healing game

HT to Van Morrison for today's inspiration.  He has always has my heart an soul, if you know what  I mean.  I went back to work today and was pretty busy and got tired quickly.  The grief is still heavy and I haven't had the ugly cry since the morning I left Mom's bedside.  I suppose it was such a relief for the pain and suffering to be over that the peace of God's grace kept me going.  I was so confused I didn't even know when I was supposed to show up again at the sawmill.  Nothing much new and more of the same is what I gathered.  It was one week ago at about the time I woke up this morning that she passed on over to Daddy and I'll be damned if the moon wasn't there lighting my way to work.

The weather has moderated but it won't last because....January.  I've spent this month waking to the sound of duck hunters in paradise.  Thank the lerd it's almost over.  As usual the contractors are on different schedules so we're stuck at my room and front door.   Slowly but surely things are shifting and being cleaned (PLEASE don't tell anybody about the dining room!) and decontaminated.  I will have a clean house if it kills me!!  It's odd to not have the phone ringing all day and night with details of caregiving to be dealt with.  I will miss it, but not much.  I do, however, miss both of them and feel that we're even on the college education.  

Mom's friends are still calling and I have to call the Utah cousin and catch him up on things when I have an hour.  We took pictures of the Hamilton markers at the cemetery the other day.  He's 83 and lives alone and will talk as long as you'll listen.  Kind of like Harry.  I think back now at the folly of us thinking we could "fix" things by having Mom and her fellow MR resident room together at the rehab.  It was Christmas and Ms Nev's boyfriend was in town from Nashvegas.  Dude was camped out there 24/7 and even had a science experiment going on the bedside table.  Poor Mama!  

I crept back up to the room she died in this morning to hug my friends' mother.   Bill and Kathy have been hanging with me for several years after we were re-united from a childhood on St. John.  Nancy and Jim lived two doors down and it was all like Mayberry and stuff.  I took piano lessons in the living room of that place.  The elder Stallings lived down the street next to umm..?  A gentleman who grew up with mama sent me a letter with apologiest for not being able to attend the service.  I have heard her talk about him all my life and may have met him once or twice.  These folks are keeping her alive for me.

Comfort and joy ~                                                                                

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