Tuesday, November 22, 2016
A new lettre...
Hi Mary.
If you've been looking over the shoulders of your kids and grands, you know of course that your ex is gone, and that Sandy has sent me info on your family allowing me to connect the two groupings for real.
I wanted to make note of a couple of things, since dad turned 95 today. I have figured out a number of things about that man as I have had to be directly involved in his world. He really can't stand to be alone. I do believe the man cannot stand to hear what goes on in his own head for too long, cos it dredges up memories he would prefer to have buried.
He has a current girlfriend, as I am sure you know, but he misses you still. The celebrating of birthdays and anniversaries of those who have gone on does not interest him anymore, again, because it brings up things he doesn't want to think about, like mortality......
You are still very missed, but at least I don't think any one is likely to follow too quickly. Life goes on, thru its lumps and bumps, and everyone seems to get back up and keep moving. Me? Well, I could use a place closer to my best buddy, but can't leave dad just yet. I am not certain if it is my dependence, or his.
Take care. Watch over your kiddos. And I will see you on the other side......
Friday, December 26, 2008
well...
a lettre to Mary.
I know you are very very missed, but I feel quite lost with what to do with how I feel.
I KNOW you understand the other side now...I don't think dad will til he dies.
Your would-have-been 30th anniversary is coming up, and who is dad spending it with? That person up in Burnet. He has forgotten his connection to family apparently. Would that could remind him, for Sandy and Dave, if not all of us. He seems to think that person was more important to your life and memory than your kids and grand kids. Maybe it is just too hard for him to show us what he's feeling, and finds it easier to get away from all of us. I find that very painful. If you stop by to talk to him sometime, could you remind him family is supposed to come first?
Thanks.
And since you now understand the Summerlands, could you give my mom a hug, and let her know I miss her a lot too?
I'll see you on the other side.
pjd
I know you are very very missed, but I feel quite lost with what to do with how I feel.
I KNOW you understand the other side now...I don't think dad will til he dies.
Your would-have-been 30th anniversary is coming up, and who is dad spending it with? That person up in Burnet. He has forgotten his connection to family apparently. Would that could remind him, for Sandy and Dave, if not all of us. He seems to think that person was more important to your life and memory than your kids and grand kids. Maybe it is just too hard for him to show us what he's feeling, and finds it easier to get away from all of us. I find that very painful. If you stop by to talk to him sometime, could you remind him family is supposed to come first?
Thanks.
And since you now understand the Summerlands, could you give my mom a hug, and let her know I miss her a lot too?
I'll see you on the other side.
pjd
Sunday, June 29, 2008
And Time Passes On
I wasn't sure whether to put this here or in my esoteric blog.
Today marks the 9th anniversary of my mother's passing. Ironically, she died not long after her mother's death date, as well as the death date of my other grandmother.
I know in my heart of hearts that life is not a linear experience, something predictable and caculatable. I cannot seem to shake the irrepressible need to put dates to everything, as if it has some meaning even 24 hours after it happened. It doesn't, really. This physical existence is about experiencing different points of view from those experienced before, in other lifetimes, thru other eyes. The point of coming in and passing out of this life shouldn't be celebrated as some great event. It just means that person's time for learning here under that current perspective is done.
Actually, in one human culture- I forget which- birth is mourned and death is celebrated. They are seen as enslavement to this limited world, and release from that bondage. There are times I think they got it right, and we got it wrong. When we mourn for our deceased in my culture, we are being selfish. We are not thinking of the one who went on- we are thinking of ourselves, and having to continue down life's path with one less companion. I myself envy those who have gone over, because I remember. I remember the tranquility of the Summerlands, as we pagans call it. I remember the absolute belonging and connection and understanding that people like myself strive to find here in a world which does not support it....unless one is a true Zen master. I, sadly, am not. I miss my mom, and I miss my grandparents. I am a normal Capricorn in that respect- as my elders and mentors in this world pass over, I feel more and more alone here. I have become the elder, without really knowing why, or how to BE that part. I suppose I am not much different than others. Most older folks will tell you that mentally at least, they do not feel much older than 25. The body betrays, however, and aging takes away the agility of body that we feel, and wish, we still had. It's a terrible thing to want to be what the body will no longer allow.
See? That's why I miss my mom. After years of being lost in a bottle of alcohol, she found herself, and we spent a lot of time being and doing...she came alive for the first time in my life, and then it was taken away from her. She and I became good friends, as well as connecting as mother and child as we never had before, and then she had to leave.
It doesn't seem fair.
But, if I have learned anything in here, it is that life is rarely fair.
I miss you, mom, and I will see you again, I know. I just wish you were here still, to share things with.
Today marks the 9th anniversary of my mother's passing. Ironically, she died not long after her mother's death date, as well as the death date of my other grandmother.
I know in my heart of hearts that life is not a linear experience, something predictable and caculatable. I cannot seem to shake the irrepressible need to put dates to everything, as if it has some meaning even 24 hours after it happened. It doesn't, really. This physical existence is about experiencing different points of view from those experienced before, in other lifetimes, thru other eyes. The point of coming in and passing out of this life shouldn't be celebrated as some great event. It just means that person's time for learning here under that current perspective is done.
Actually, in one human culture- I forget which- birth is mourned and death is celebrated. They are seen as enslavement to this limited world, and release from that bondage. There are times I think they got it right, and we got it wrong. When we mourn for our deceased in my culture, we are being selfish. We are not thinking of the one who went on- we are thinking of ourselves, and having to continue down life's path with one less companion. I myself envy those who have gone over, because I remember. I remember the tranquility of the Summerlands, as we pagans call it. I remember the absolute belonging and connection and understanding that people like myself strive to find here in a world which does not support it....unless one is a true Zen master. I, sadly, am not. I miss my mom, and I miss my grandparents. I am a normal Capricorn in that respect- as my elders and mentors in this world pass over, I feel more and more alone here. I have become the elder, without really knowing why, or how to BE that part. I suppose I am not much different than others. Most older folks will tell you that mentally at least, they do not feel much older than 25. The body betrays, however, and aging takes away the agility of body that we feel, and wish, we still had. It's a terrible thing to want to be what the body will no longer allow.
See? That's why I miss my mom. After years of being lost in a bottle of alcohol, she found herself, and we spent a lot of time being and doing...she came alive for the first time in my life, and then it was taken away from her. She and I became good friends, as well as connecting as mother and child as we never had before, and then she had to leave.
It doesn't seem fair.
But, if I have learned anything in here, it is that life is rarely fair.
I miss you, mom, and I will see you again, I know. I just wish you were here still, to share things with.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Generations
I must be in some kind of nostalgic mood. I started copying to the computer a lettre sent from my dad's mom to my step mom about 25 years ago. It all details how my grandmom used to make turkey curry. It is quite a haphazard recipe frankly, but luckily, I have some clue how to make it. My mom used to make something very similar with shrimp. It's basically a curried gravy with a meat put in it. It is not the indian style curry I make. 'Scuse the ego there, but I am a darn good cook really, with no one to cook for much.
The lettre for me is really a look into my grandmother's personality. I only got to know her after I was in my teens, and only had maybe ten years before she passed. My grandfather and I had a special relationship, started whe nI was quite small by lettres he would write me. I wish I still had them. I remember the stories he sent.
And I really miss my grands, all of them. My very military family- four generations worth- has never been physically close to one another, so relationships have had to develop in other ways. I knew Granny and Gramps, and Diddy and Pop, better than my sibs, due to proximity. I got to have a little time with them as a young adult, which I don't think many of the others did. I wish I had had more.
I think I will have to publish the lettre once I get it copied.
The lettre for me is really a look into my grandmother's personality. I only got to know her after I was in my teens, and only had maybe ten years before she passed. My grandfather and I had a special relationship, started whe nI was quite small by lettres he would write me. I wish I still had them. I remember the stories he sent.
And I really miss my grands, all of them. My very military family- four generations worth- has never been physically close to one another, so relationships have had to develop in other ways. I knew Granny and Gramps, and Diddy and Pop, better than my sibs, due to proximity. I got to have a little time with them as a young adult, which I don't think many of the others did. I wish I had had more.
I think I will have to publish the lettre once I get it copied.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Who invented
Mother's Day and why?
Okay, appreciating one's mom is a good thing, but shouldn't be limited to a day. Frankly, other than the sales this day generates, I cannot see why it is done.
Why am I grumpy?
Well, my mom's gone 9 years now, my step-mom only a few monthe, and frankly, that makes today lonesome and unhappy. Even my "kids" and grands cannot change the overwhelming sense of loss. There are so many things I would love to be able to share with my mother.....I miss her more than I ever thought I would. We had become friends, gone thru adventures and trials together, and frankly, I have felt like an orphan since her passing. I am finding a friendship with my father since Mary's illness that is probably going to do this to me all over again, and then Father's Day will suck too.
I think the point to be grasped from all this is not to take one's family for granted. It can change in a heartbeat, and then those words can never be said to one's own satisfaction.
I bought two miniature rose plants, crimson for my mother, white for Mary. I am deciding whether to put them outside or not- Texas heat kills a lot of things too easily, and that would not help my feelings right now. Besides, I am the only one who understands what I mean by them, so my being able to see them everyday might make more sense. Will have to look up their sensitivity.
Right now, food, shower, and get on with the day. Staying distracted will definitely help.
Happy Mother's......don't make it just a day.
Okay, appreciating one's mom is a good thing, but shouldn't be limited to a day. Frankly, other than the sales this day generates, I cannot see why it is done.
Why am I grumpy?
Well, my mom's gone 9 years now, my step-mom only a few monthe, and frankly, that makes today lonesome and unhappy. Even my "kids" and grands cannot change the overwhelming sense of loss. There are so many things I would love to be able to share with my mother.....I miss her more than I ever thought I would. We had become friends, gone thru adventures and trials together, and frankly, I have felt like an orphan since her passing. I am finding a friendship with my father since Mary's illness that is probably going to do this to me all over again, and then Father's Day will suck too.
I think the point to be grasped from all this is not to take one's family for granted. It can change in a heartbeat, and then those words can never be said to one's own satisfaction.
I bought two miniature rose plants, crimson for my mother, white for Mary. I am deciding whether to put them outside or not- Texas heat kills a lot of things too easily, and that would not help my feelings right now. Besides, I am the only one who understands what I mean by them, so my being able to see them everyday might make more sense. Will have to look up their sensitivity.
Right now, food, shower, and get on with the day. Staying distracted will definitely help.
Happy Mother's......don't make it just a day.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Trying to Settle
3 March
It astounds me every time I bury someone, family or not, how much I want the whole world to stop and take notice, and how very little they do.
It has been three weeks, give or take, since my step mom passed and the world hasn’t slowed one iota, nor has my immediate world. Perhaps I am unusual (nothing new there!) and I feel some need to mourn longer and deeper than others. Maybe I feel that each life should hold some greater significance in the end than a mere grave marker. I found myself thinking as we inurned Mary’s ashes where my father’s will also someday lie “Is this all there is?’ It felt like a cliche, but I think it holds too much truth.
Consider seriously for a moment how many names from history one can recall, even with the best education. Literally millions more came and went before and after any of those names. No matter how far back we can go in written or unwritten history, the majourity lived lives that ended in obscurity after only a few generations. I myself know very little of the people in my family history notes save birth and death dates, locations maybe, and names.
A handful I am lucky enough to have photos of, able to look back and seen where the features in my bathroom mirror came from.
The last couple of weeks have to have been a form of hell for my father. My sister and step sister helped him clear the house of clothes, makeup and other such things, not exactly wiping Mary off the map, but at least removing an awful lot of reminders. I remember doing this for my mom’s things, pretty much all by myself. It was rough. Even through clothes washings, an essence of Jeanne lingered, whether subtle scents, or the shape clothes hold when worn often enough. I am amazed sometimes of how much is still in this house of hers, useless pretty much to me, but too hard to part with glibly.
Yesterday, my best friend Casey, a jeweler by trade, came to town to go thru Mary’s remaining jewelry, partly for the estate probate, and partly I think to help my dad just know everything was being handled as it should. It isn’t the end of the clearing out, but it feels like the worst is past. Now I find myself with my head spinning around with unresolved emotions. As I said before in this journal, had she been in her right mind, it might have been simpler. Maybe not. Maybe I delude myself by believing that the final goodbye, whispered with I love you to an ear than can understand makes a difference.
This is probably my biggest paradox. My spiritual beliefs are deep and strong and I know that while we may be forced to separate forms while here on this planet, we are in fact a part , each and everything, of a much greater, undefinable One. We come here knowing full well we will put aside our memory of the Oneness, and yet it seems we spend a lot of our lives looking for that point of belonging all over again. It is the seat of our desire, grief and greed, all in one. We know how alone we are inside these bodies, and want to not be. I know I don’t,anyway.
Yet relationships rarely fill the hole. Whether it is with another person, or persons, the land, our pet animals, or what have you, there still seems to be something not quite right. I have reached out thru mediation and sought out the source, hoping to be able to grasp it and bring it back here in words to comfort others who feel equally lost....but I find words fail.
That is my big adventure here I think, and while I know the soul I called Mary is in a state of reunion with all those before, and yes, yet to come, I long for that belonging again for myself. The wait for my turn is sometimes unbearable. I know that is why we distract ourselves with the superficial, looking to lose even for a moment the disconnection we feel. I know it is why we cling to one another, whether the pairing works or not. It is worse to be alone in the wait than to have to bear with someone else’s egocentric point of view.
I am also heartily aware that not a whole lot of people see this. Those who do often become Buddhist, because it is the one path that teaches disconnection from all the longing, that life might flow smoother, getting to its point rather than staying focused on what is past. Everything and everyone here is mortal, and will pass from this world. Everything.
Hm. See? That’s why I write. By spewing it out for the reader, I learn again for myself. I have failed myself in this time, probably due to feeling obligated by various duties, and I am clinging to something I cannot change. For days now, I have felt more alone than I had in years, and it is all my own doing. I need to find my centre again, remember the Seven Fold Path, remember that there was some reason I chose to come back to this place, and my task here is obviously not done. If it was, I wouldn’t be here to write this.
Life is an illusion. It is neither what we are, nor what we are here for. Our true belonging is so much larger than our words can describe....
And I must leave each to his or her own path to understanding that.
I still miss the woman who had the guts to stay with my father,who can be as overbearing as I can, for nearly 30 years. She brought a whole other branch of family to me, not of blood, but still family.
I am just reminded that one of the least happy things about getting older is the ones who leave before you.
I must go find myself, refocus if I can. Letting this out doesn’t complete the task of healing. My spiritual self brought back to the forefront will.
namaste.
It astounds me every time I bury someone, family or not, how much I want the whole world to stop and take notice, and how very little they do.
It has been three weeks, give or take, since my step mom passed and the world hasn’t slowed one iota, nor has my immediate world. Perhaps I am unusual (nothing new there!) and I feel some need to mourn longer and deeper than others. Maybe I feel that each life should hold some greater significance in the end than a mere grave marker. I found myself thinking as we inurned Mary’s ashes where my father’s will also someday lie “Is this all there is?’ It felt like a cliche, but I think it holds too much truth.
Consider seriously for a moment how many names from history one can recall, even with the best education. Literally millions more came and went before and after any of those names. No matter how far back we can go in written or unwritten history, the majourity lived lives that ended in obscurity after only a few generations. I myself know very little of the people in my family history notes save birth and death dates, locations maybe, and names.
A handful I am lucky enough to have photos of, able to look back and seen where the features in my bathroom mirror came from.
The last couple of weeks have to have been a form of hell for my father. My sister and step sister helped him clear the house of clothes, makeup and other such things, not exactly wiping Mary off the map, but at least removing an awful lot of reminders. I remember doing this for my mom’s things, pretty much all by myself. It was rough. Even through clothes washings, an essence of Jeanne lingered, whether subtle scents, or the shape clothes hold when worn often enough. I am amazed sometimes of how much is still in this house of hers, useless pretty much to me, but too hard to part with glibly.
Yesterday, my best friend Casey, a jeweler by trade, came to town to go thru Mary’s remaining jewelry, partly for the estate probate, and partly I think to help my dad just know everything was being handled as it should. It isn’t the end of the clearing out, but it feels like the worst is past. Now I find myself with my head spinning around with unresolved emotions. As I said before in this journal, had she been in her right mind, it might have been simpler. Maybe not. Maybe I delude myself by believing that the final goodbye, whispered with I love you to an ear than can understand makes a difference.
This is probably my biggest paradox. My spiritual beliefs are deep and strong and I know that while we may be forced to separate forms while here on this planet, we are in fact a part , each and everything, of a much greater, undefinable One. We come here knowing full well we will put aside our memory of the Oneness, and yet it seems we spend a lot of our lives looking for that point of belonging all over again. It is the seat of our desire, grief and greed, all in one. We know how alone we are inside these bodies, and want to not be. I know I don’t,anyway.
Yet relationships rarely fill the hole. Whether it is with another person, or persons, the land, our pet animals, or what have you, there still seems to be something not quite right. I have reached out thru mediation and sought out the source, hoping to be able to grasp it and bring it back here in words to comfort others who feel equally lost....but I find words fail.
That is my big adventure here I think, and while I know the soul I called Mary is in a state of reunion with all those before, and yes, yet to come, I long for that belonging again for myself. The wait for my turn is sometimes unbearable. I know that is why we distract ourselves with the superficial, looking to lose even for a moment the disconnection we feel. I know it is why we cling to one another, whether the pairing works or not. It is worse to be alone in the wait than to have to bear with someone else’s egocentric point of view.
I am also heartily aware that not a whole lot of people see this. Those who do often become Buddhist, because it is the one path that teaches disconnection from all the longing, that life might flow smoother, getting to its point rather than staying focused on what is past. Everything and everyone here is mortal, and will pass from this world. Everything.
Hm. See? That’s why I write. By spewing it out for the reader, I learn again for myself. I have failed myself in this time, probably due to feeling obligated by various duties, and I am clinging to something I cannot change. For days now, I have felt more alone than I had in years, and it is all my own doing. I need to find my centre again, remember the Seven Fold Path, remember that there was some reason I chose to come back to this place, and my task here is obviously not done. If it was, I wouldn’t be here to write this.
Life is an illusion. It is neither what we are, nor what we are here for. Our true belonging is so much larger than our words can describe....
And I must leave each to his or her own path to understanding that.
I still miss the woman who had the guts to stay with my father,who can be as overbearing as I can, for nearly 30 years. She brought a whole other branch of family to me, not of blood, but still family.
I am just reminded that one of the least happy things about getting older is the ones who leave before you.
I must go find myself, refocus if I can. Letting this out doesn’t complete the task of healing. My spiritual self brought back to the forefront will.
namaste.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Finale
This will take me a bit to complete, and tonight will not be the night. My stepmom, Mary Douglas, passed over to the Summerlands on February 12th, at about 1.15 PM. This last few days has been a blur of activity, and my dad, my step sister and myself are only now finding time to really come to terms with all this.
We were all three there with her as she took her last breath, with step brother Dave on the phone with Sandy. I don't think there had been a "person" there for about 24 hours, but just the same.....
Immediately things changed direction and got stupidly busy. It is the time when we need to be with family and friends in a state of quiet, and even with all the best intentions from those who came from all corners of the country, it was not. Today, when the last flew or drove out of town, was the first time any of us had had to really be calm inside and let feelings seep thru.
I was surprised at how upset I got. It hadn't really sunk in yet I guess. Everytime someone leaves this world, the lives that person touched change for good. I have wondered of my relationship with Dave and Sandy, and their's with dad. My other sibs know them, but there is not the same kind of relationship by any means. Hell, I don't have the same connection with my blood family as I do with them. Dad is going to come out of this, though the hurt never goes away completely. So will I. Still, everything has changed. Maybe part of my mourning is for that. I am in no state of mind to figure that out tonight.
I have much to talk about still but I need some down time too. I've gone from waiting for a conclusion, to being overwhelmed by people, back to being alone. I think I just need a rest.
No matter what is written here, I do know this much- I miss my step mom.
We were all three there with her as she took her last breath, with step brother Dave on the phone with Sandy. I don't think there had been a "person" there for about 24 hours, but just the same.....
Immediately things changed direction and got stupidly busy. It is the time when we need to be with family and friends in a state of quiet, and even with all the best intentions from those who came from all corners of the country, it was not. Today, when the last flew or drove out of town, was the first time any of us had had to really be calm inside and let feelings seep thru.
I was surprised at how upset I got. It hadn't really sunk in yet I guess. Everytime someone leaves this world, the lives that person touched change for good. I have wondered of my relationship with Dave and Sandy, and their's with dad. My other sibs know them, but there is not the same kind of relationship by any means. Hell, I don't have the same connection with my blood family as I do with them. Dad is going to come out of this, though the hurt never goes away completely. So will I. Still, everything has changed. Maybe part of my mourning is for that. I am in no state of mind to figure that out tonight.
I have much to talk about still but I need some down time too. I've gone from waiting for a conclusion, to being overwhelmed by people, back to being alone. I think I just need a rest.
No matter what is written here, I do know this much- I miss my step mom.
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