Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #31 - "forever and ever"
"For this is the beginning of forever and ever"
So, the above line from a Portishead song popped into my head this morning as I was trying to select a song to post to Twitter/Facebook as THIS IS MY JAM had informed me it was time for a new jam. The song is not a perfect analog for my feeling of loss, but the line seemed to carry over from yesterday's milestone of one month since your death, and so it is. And so it goes.
Following up on yesterday's blog entry, I also had this great comment from Stacey, Liesel's sister-in-law, and I thought I would share it with you, though if you can see this blog, then you surely see Facebook, too. Slow as I am dealing with comments, you may have seen it before I. Stacey knows about loss. Her own father died, though I am not sure how long ago. I am sure she could tell me something about dealing with the loss of a parent over a longer time period.
Today is sort of a quickie and so it is filed under "assorted stuff."
Yesterday I had a good cry before I left for Calculus class with Liesel giving me a hug. I had tried to cry several times earlier in the day as I felt on the verge, and it was one month since your death, but the tears did not come until I was trying to explain to Liesel how the world did not make sense without you in it.
Liesel suggested (and wisely) that I try to celebrate your life more than wallow in the grief of loss. For the record, "wallow" is my word not hers. She just said the thing about celebrating.
I am trying to celebrate, and this blog is one of the ways I am doing that because as much as the blog is a reflection of my feelings day-to-day from two days after your death to a year from now (yes, I am going to keep doing this blog thing every day for a year), it is also a celebration of your life, of my life, and of living, going on, day after day, stuff happens. Life.
But here's some other ways I celebrated your life yesterday, Mom, and how I will continue that celebration today.
- After my cry, I biked to class and didn't even try to take the Calculus test. I wrote the professor a nice note that I was not going to waste his time attempting problems that I do not understand. Not to be a drama queen or play the sympathy card, but I also told him it was one month since your death and I simply could not face an hour of struggle through problems I could not even attempt to complete with any accuracy. And then I left. I have another test and the final exam yet in the final two weeks of the semester to show that I have learned some things, but I am already resigned to the fact that I will have to take the class over.
- Upon returning home, because we were both eligible for upgrades, Liesel and I went to Sprint to get new phones (see picture above). I just ordered two cases as sadly my old cases do not fit (see future picture yet to come).
- While our phones were updating, we had gyros at D'Nicio's next door. I love gyros. Did you ever have a gyros? I do not know...
- Today is the first of three days I am spending in Colon for the 78th annual Abbott's Magic Get Together. Dad and I are going to two of the night shows (tonight and tomorrow) and spending the day there on Friday. This is not something I am doing because YOU loved it but it is something I am doing because I LOVE IT, and we did share it together as a family so many years ago.
I am trying to celebrate you and your life, Mom, but I also miss you in ways I cannot even explain with words.
In a sense, I am celebrating you by celebrating me, what makes me happy, because that was always your highest value and what you wanted.
Here's two songs. The first is the Portishead song that supplied the quote beneath today's title. The other is the sound of my days without you, like a winter garden.
portishead - "GLORY BOX" - LIVE
Eraldo Bernocchi, Harold Budd, Robin Guthrie - "Winter Garden"
Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.
Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.
- Days ago = 32 days ago
- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1508.05 - 11:37