My Mom died in November. I think I have been quietly grieving this winter. Ours was not a simple relationship..not when I was 5 and not when I was 65. She said some real doozies to me over a lifetime and only a few of them were when dementia kicked in.
I tried drinking my feelings away, as I have done in other grieving situations. It only works for about 4 hours and then I felt depressed the next morning. I prayed for forgiveness for whatever I had done and whatever she had done. I meditated. I napped. I slept (restlessly) a lot.
I re-read "Stitches" by Anne Lamott. She has a grip (an irreverent but truthful take) on the difficulties of faith and Life and all the lousy things going on in the world or our locality. .. or personally. I will always suggest this book as a good read.
And I also will never wear a day-glo utility as long as I live. I'd rather go naked than see that color ever again. I wish local workers had the budget to change to a different color.
I have been upset by Christian politicians lately. I almost FB posted "I am having some difficulties with my Bible study. I can't find the parts where Jesus directs us to hate, demean or not share with various groups. How poor is poor? If anyone wants to help me on this, please direct me to verses." Daughter Liz just raised her eyebrows and said nothing more. :)
I used to live in Lake Charles Louisiana. I divorced my husband of 22 years then married my dear friend of 16 or so years. I did not at the time realize you could fall in love or marry your best friend. Dale Gadd.It seemed like incest or something. He was the one who made me happy. He died in 1.5 years into our marriage from a sudden heart attack. I was devastated.
I have been watching the HBO series "Treme" on Netflix. It has to do with post Katrina life in New Orleans. It reminded me of my husband who passed. It reminded me of the joy he held as part of his personality. His joy in music.
Shortly after he died, my ne'er do well high school sweetheart truck driver came through Lake Charles. I'll call him by name...Sonny. He thought he would meet my husband. But there was no husband. He died.
Sonny came by my house. There was no food in the refrigerator.I wasn't much into eating then. He said he would come by with breakfast the next day and he did. He cooked Biscuits and gravy. We had such good over-due talks. I told him to come back during Mardi Gras. And he did.
But that is another story. The series Treme reminded me of all this.
But my point for tonight is that, gradually, with enough sleep, I dream dreams, dreams that are remembrances, where my Mom and I laughed ourselves silly. Now, I can remember that. I remember Dale. I remember Sonny.
And the photo scan is old and has nothing to do with anything.