Mourning death in all
This is NOT my life, void of
Abundance and joy

I first must apologize for the delay and my lapse of responsiveness to your interest to connect and engage with my words. It has been a tumultuous time of change, loss and grief. I’ve had to come face to face with the role reversal that happens as parents age, care giving is your primary responsibility, and burial decisions rest with you to execute.
In my state of mourning, I have had days of quiet solitude where paralysis owned my mind, prohibiting any productive action of any kind. It was not where I wanted to reside, yet, it was, and sometimes remains, my hidden existence. Outwardly, life appeared to race ahead, days melting into weeks blending into months of leaves changing then falling into snow and ice melting into puddles of rain rippling in wind so intense you hear its cries. And the tears have come unexpectedly in these moments of solitude, triggered by the simple scenes on television or familiar notes of music on the radio. I miss her every day.
As I wait for time to heal this fresh wound and to bring the joy and laughter back, I know that I was supposed to be where I am, despite the grayness I am cloaked in. Coming to this realization at only 70% convinced, 80% on a good day, has not brought on encouragement. It has merely kept the inhaling and exhaling continuous and aided in feeding and cleaning as appropriate. I am working on acceptance of the circumstances which currently define who I am and the role I play. But in that acceptance, I have not surrendered to the idea that this is my life, because it is NOT.
I have not ceased wanting more, needing more and deserving more joy and abundance. I fully acknowledge that control is not mine, despite my futile effort to always have control. And that is what perplexes me, stopping me in my thoughts, my actions, and my emotions. Control is a myth that perfectionists, like myself, perpetrate in flagrant fraudulence. So, I have relinquished control and surrendered to the grief and despair, waiting for the veil of my misery to lift, hoping but very much praying for sunshine, miracles and blessings. Because, this today, as it appears, is NOT my life.
I will wake and turn towards movement, needing it to be forward and with direction and purpose. My sense is that I am close. I am at that edge where leaning over, not in, commits me to a path. Choosing the right direction to lean is difficult in the grayness, so I will wait for the gray to subside and clarity to be more evident and then I will fly.
Others have been here and comprehend the vastness of grief for life lost to death, disappointment and the continuous deferment of dreams and aspirations. You too have put others before self with the notion that you will have your time to enjoy the fruits of all you have labored and sacrificed for. But a curve derails us more often than we share with the masses and in the gray we can forget we had hopes for more to come. We can get stuck.
My summarizing thought to leave with you is to embrace the gray and acknowledge that you need it. However, don’t forget that it’s not where you are meant to reside forever.
Please share your comments and thoughts with me and thank you for visiting.
Barbara