Mother’s Day in my yard

I’m sitting in the sun on my deck. A gentle breeze whispers by every now and again. I can hear human sounds: cars in the distance, a chain saw somewhere, a lawn mower running. The church bells tell me it’s 10:00.

In the distance, a dog barks, and I can hear the blur of people’s voices – an indistinct indication that I’m not alone.

And underlying all of this, is a chorus of birdsong. My neighbourhood is an old one – the heritage district near St Mary’s hospital. So we are blessed with mature trees, lilac bushes, cedars and small evergreens here and there. And as a result, many birds.

I can hear a cardinal reminding us that this is his territory. Sparrows, house wrens, robins, and red wing black birds add joyfully add to the cheer. The occasional starling inserts their strident comments, they seem to be saying ‘simmer down! Don’t be so happy!’

There are so many different bird voices that I can’t identify them all. I bet once my sister Linda gets back from sailing she can tell me who is in my yard – she is a much better birder than I.

An American Goldfinch lands above my head on a branch of the Mayday tree that’s adding its fragrance and beauty to my yard. We consider each other for a few seconds. Then he flits away as quickly as he’s come.

As I turn back to my writing, a chipmunk appears on the end of my deck and starts chattering at me, apparently unhappy with my presence in her space. Well too bad friend, I think, now I’m part of this space too. Also, I make a mental note to get some nuts to feed her when I’m out here next.

Each day when I check my yard there is something new to delight me.  I have so many plants coming up: bleeding hearts, tulips, grape hyacinth, forget-me-nots, lily of the valley, peonies, day Lilies, snow-in-the-mountain, some other little pink ground cover plant. A lilac bush is starting to bud, and the forsythia in the front garden is beautiful.

I’ve had contact from my kids, and have spent time drinking coffee and writing in my garden. The rest of the day is mine to spend as I wish.  How could a mother’s day get any better? 862A75FC-7C62-4A24-85C1-4B636D7CFC22

One month to go

One month, and the first year has passed. I can’t fathom how I got through this. The Sorrow is not less – the grief takes my breath away at the most unexpected times. But I can manage it now. My grief baby is becoming a toddler… sleeping through the night, marginally easier to reason with, but when I’m tired? It has tantrums that are exhausting.

I’m heading to bed right now – one eye on the calendar as the days crawl ever on towards May 5th.

God I miss you my Bear.

Shut Up Little Voices

This morning is bright and clear. The sun is beaming into my writing room, I have moved Chester’s pup cup into the sunshine and he is curled up and snoozing in the warm winter sun. I’m listening to a podcast on economics (I’m a bit of a nerd in this way), drinking my coffee and feeling pretty good about today.

Yes, it’s -19c outside and there’s an extreme weather warning in place, but I look out the window and see the sun bouncing off the snow, and the world looks beautiful.  I am grateful for my little house, my little dog; my happy house.

Still though, I find myself struggling with the idea that I should be doing other things – I have a stack of boxes behind me that really need to go into the basement if I want to make this room a bit cozier.  But I’m starting to realize that these ‘shoulds’ are coming from somewhere else – not organically mine, these ‘shoulds’.

I mean, yes, I want the boxes moved… and I’ve gotten about half of them out of here (it’s a tall order for a fat 55 your old person to carry all these boxes downstairs in one go).  But somehow I feel like I ‘should’ have gotten these boxes out of here already and that enjoying writing in the sun is somehow indulgent when there is work to be done.   Why am I not organized? my little voice shames myself. Why does everything always take me so long to do? Other people would have this done by now. (mom, is that you?)

Here are some facts:  I’ve been in this house for 1.5 months.  December was a busy month at work, and a busy month emotionally. The first Christmas after you lose someone you love is very difficult: it requires a lot of work to attend to these emotions – to honour them, let them work through you.  And that’s pretty exhausting.

I arrive today at the first Saturday in the New Year.  The first day that I feel better, emotionally, and able to enjoy the house that I’ve chosen to live this part of my life in.  So why am I beating myself up about what is NOT perfect yet?  Where on earth did this come from in me?  I have a plan – I have stacked some boxes at the top of my basement stairs.  Every time I go down, I take a box with me.  This is a fair plan. (of course now I avoid going in the basement because I have to take a box with me…lol).  Yet, even though I have thought it through and I have a plan, I find my critical little voice chastising myself because I haven’t just dug in and moved them all.

My life, my choices – so shut up little voice. 

That’s my motto for this year: Shut Up, Little Voice.  I will listen to some voices:  the voice that tells me I should hurry up because I’m late for work. The little voice that tells me that I’m not paying attention to my own needs. That one for sure.  But the little voice that says ‘You aren’t good enough.  You’re not measuring up’…  That voice is being banned from my head.  I had enough happiness taken from me last year, I do not need to voluntarily give my happiness to the voices in my head.

I am feeling hope that today will be a good one.  I won’t try to forecast what tomorrow will be like – I’m happy to live just this day, right now. And I might even take a box downstairs.

Of course, now I’m worrying that I have too many little voices in my head…

Sigh.

S

Musings on ending 2017 with a healing heart

The New Year is fast approaching, and I greet it, as I have done for years, with a hopeful heart. This year, I am even more hopeful than years gone by. I know that might sound odd – I lost half of my heart in 2017 and that’s not an easy thing to get through. But the half of my heart that remains is starting to realize that Warren, my Bear, would have done anything to have one more day.

So while I still mourn for him, I am starting to feel gratitude for a few things:
Gratitude that I had that time with him.
Gratitude that I am still here.
Gratitude that I had the opportunity to learn from this experience; to feel that incredible joy that comes from being loved unconditionally and exactly as you are.

I learned that I am a pretty neat person. I’m strong; I’m capable of taking on the most difficult thing and still coming out the other side. I’m not going to say I managed to do this unscathed, my heart is still only half a heart. But I am able to look at life and sort of smile again. Despite his death, and honestly maybe because of it, I am grateful for the gift that each and every day is right now.

I like who I am.

I have flaws – we all have flaws. There are people I don’t spend my time with because it doesn’t seem like a good way to spend my precious days. But most people amaze me. We are each a giant ball of imperfections and quirks, but most of us don’t want anything but to be loved for who we are. How can that not be the most heart warming and hopeful thing?

I love my little house. I love my little dog. I wish Warren was here with me, but he is in spirit. And I accept that too. I find myself reaching out in a way I hadn’t before – accepting people as they are, living my life the way I want to live it. Dropping the notion that there is one way and one way only to live.

Do I have goals for 2018?

I do. But I have learned to live in WST (Warren Standard Time) and know that while I have things I want to get accomplished, I do not need to attach them to a timeline. As my Bear used to tell me

‘Things do not have pesky labels in WST – they happen when they happen. It’s  far less stressful’

He is so right about that.

I want to travel more in 2018. I’m talking with my kids about taking a trip somewhere together. We’ve tossed about driving to the maritimes, or going south to Salem to visit the Witch Museum (my people!), and maybe taking a trip at Christmas next year – head somewhere warm!

I am going to go to Cuba in June with my niece and her husband. Warren and I had talked about going to Cuba. So this seems like the right place to go first.

I need to get to Oregon! I have a cousin who is waiting very patiently for me to visit!

And I’m going to write more. I have set up a beautiful little writing space in my house (I’m in it right now!) and the sun streams in through the sliding doors to the deck – makes it seem like it’s not -11c right now.  Chester is curled in his pup-cup at my feet.  It’s a cozy space for both of us. I need a rug and a better chair, but I love it already!

And those are my goals. No burden of weight loss, self improvement, stopping this habit, starting that habit. Gentle self acceptance and an enriching of the life I’ve been granted – That is my goal for 2018.

I would LOVE to hear what you are thinking of doing this year…

‘We’ve got a full tank of gas, sunglasses, and half a pack of cigarettes!’

On to the next adventure!

Still missing you, my Bear.

S