Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm reading a book, "The Anatomy of Grief" that talks about the evolution of the human brain, and the signs of grief we see in animals and reptiles and birds. I know, no one but me would be reading this, except maybe my dear deceased Zen teacher Yvonne Rand. I find it comforting to read about what I am experiencing and what others have in the past or now. I'm in an altered state, which has no name or description. Yet grief is universal and no one escapes it. In the part I was reading this morning, the author describes what happens when the death is anticipated, as it was with my daughter, in her case from the beginning diagnosis but intensifying when the cancer returned, and stunning us when there was no treatment left and only the choice of how and when to die. How complicated it is when you are praying and bargaining to be the lucky one, the exception, to miraculously survive, as my own mother did when she was 34 and was the first person with her kind of brain tumor to live. I'm so proud my daughter lived vibrantly and fully, while preparing her daughter and the rest of us for the fate we could not bear to contemplate. This book is helping me name my experience as much as it can be, since there are no words for the loss of a child, no matter what her age.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a deep talk with a friend this afternoon. She was my kids' pediatrician, and we became friends because we were neighbors and our daughters were friends. Today we talked about loss - her husband who died and my daughter's recent death. She understands so well what it is to be witness to someone you love's deterioration and death. I had to laugh at myself because I ordered about eight mysteries to take along on my trip, and when I began reading them, one after another, the plot would have a daughter who died. I gravitated towards my grief unconsciously, and I was grateful because each book had something true and profound about the grieving process. So I guess I needed to dive into these books. It's great to have buddies who know this long and painful process and are on the journey as well. We had tea outside and "caught up" with each other. Many years ago she was diagnosed with breast cancer and her treatment prepared me for my daughter's experience. Though my friend fortunately had a less virulent form and has had no reoccurence. She is one of my many guides and fellow travelers who ease my way maybe not into acceptance, but into my altered life. I am fortunate to have these long term friends by my side.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I drove to JoAnn Fabrics this afternoon, and I must say, it was a thrill. I picked out yarn and fabrics for baby blankets, and the packs of Necco Wafers for my husband. He has this obsession with Neccos, and they are hard to come by these days. He actually asked me to get him some when I told him where I was going. Pathetic man! Oh, well, I do have my own bad urges, so I can't be too superior. Just touching the soft flannel fabrics and enjoying the colors and variety was heavenly. I found a lama print fabric, and one with elephants, and two with moon and stars. The other two were striped and with stars. I love making baby things, and as I'm hosting a baby shower near the end of June, I have a goal, which helps. I also intend to sew a baby pillowcase for my two year old grandson. Our weather has been gloomy, but I've found distractions. Today I walked with a friend and tomorrow I babysit my one year old grandson then visit a friend who has had shoulder replacement surgery. Then the next night we celebrate our son-in-law's birthday, and that will be fun. The four and one year old boys will make it so.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I have a collection of carved elephants from over the years that fascinate my grandchildren. I read this week that elephants, of all mammals, seem to experience the longest and deepest grief of all non-humans. Perhaps that is part of their attraction. When I was in India, and saw an elephant along the road for the first time, it was an epiphany. I somehow have this heart connection. I've been following elephant posts on Instagram, and delight in them. Many years ago, when my oldest two kids got married within three months of each other, I made a quilt to celebrate each of the marriages. I sewed one with horses for my son and his wife and one with elephants for my daughter and her husband. My daughter later protested that she didn't like elephants, it was ME who did, and I realized she had wanted horses herself. Both she and my daughter-in-law had owned horses, ridden for many years and competed in horse shows. She was right, I was unconsciously projecting my love and admiration for elephants, their steadfast attachment to family and their loyalty onto my wishes for my daughter's marriage. She taught me a lesson. But elephants have been teaching me about grief, and not letting go before experiencing that emotion fully. I am grateful.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

When we were up visiting our granddaughter and son-in-law, he told me my daughter had written letters to her daughter for her birthdays, and he had just given her the one of her 13th birthday and she loved it. When I was thinking about it after, I realized that I had suggested this plan to her, and I was so touched she'd taken my advice. As she was dying, a delayed (because of the pandemic) gift of flowers and a gold necklace with a small disk that said "loved" arrived, but my daughter was struggling too much to register the flowers, which we put on the bureau by her bed, or wear the necklace, so I was moved to see my granddaughter wore it every day I was visiting, for a week. It was her way of keeping her mother close to her heart. I wear a neckace that says "we only have now", not every day but when I need it, and my daughter's book editor just sent me a silver necklace with a minature of my daughter's book cover and back of the book, in the purple and gold that echoes the cover of my book written several decades ago. These are tokens of our love and grief. And they help. I want to write letters to my kids and grandkids and follow my own advice. I know how I wished for some missive from my parents when they died, and was so grateful my brother wrote a four page letter to me before he died. It helps comfort the saddened heart.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've had so much to do after arriving home that I forgot to write in my blog yesterday! Being gone a month means things stack up and we had to re-supply ourselves and return calls and order medications and check in with friends. My aunt died while I was away and I still don't know the status of my cousin, as no one is picking up her land line or cell, so I sent a note via mail yesterday. I had people to thank for gifts and lists to make. Today we took one of our cars in for service and Monday we bring in the other. In the midst of all this: joy. Our granddaughter got her first covid vaccine shot yesterday, which is such a relief and will mean she can socialize with her friends, and at 13 that's the whole ball game. Today's news about not needing to mask is terrific, and I've already walked with two good friends maskless unless we were close to someone. I want to go to a couple of grocery stores, a bookstore, and buy Moroccan oil for my hair! Yesterday I strolled my one year old grandson without a mask and played with him in his backyard without a mask. I even picked him up, which I've not done except once since he's been born. My women's group will meet in a little over a week and we can actually hug each other! There are plenty more challenges out there for us, but for now, I'm going to enjoy the reprieve for a while.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm back home after a month of visiting our younger son, his wife and son for two weeks then staying a week with our son-in-law and granddaughter. We had great visits, and I saw two women friends as well, plus friends of my daughter who died. It was bittersweet, because each place we stayed brought up memories of other trips, and our last trips were to be with our daughter and then to support her when she died. Yesterday I brought back her ashes, which we will later scatter in the mountains as per her request. Some of her ashes are under a dogwood tree and Tara statue in her back yard, where her exhusband and daughter live. It was good to get away from our own house and life here for a while. While I was away an aunt died, my mother's younger sister, and my dear cousin was in a nursing home recovering from covid. So, as is the case at my age, every day is complex and both sad and happy. We had terrifically good weather, and up north, everything is green and lush and blooming in a way it never can here. Dogwood trees, liliacs, tulips, daffodils, rhododendrons, azaleas, fruit trees. One day went went to a tulip farm and just bathed ourselves in the beauty of the flowers. So there was much comfort and healing to be had. Now I'm glad to see my friends here again, and my daughter and son who live here. I'm preparing for a baby shower for my friend's daughter in June, and looking forward to time at our cabin. The world goes on, as it should and must. I ride along on my life kite, taking it all in.