Wednesday, March 30, 2022

So Far Away

 

So far away

Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?

It would be so fine to see your face at my door

Doesn't help to know

You're just time away

~ Carol King~


     I miss my children.  Plain and simple.  They each live long distances from their childhood home and though in years past I had adjusted to them not being within range of a family dinner or a day hike anywhere, these past few years have brought it forward how very much I miss them.  

     The Pandemic ceased to allow us to be together for what felt like eternity.  The physical presence and hug impossible.  What helped was the connection of a phone call followed by texting and or some version of social media that made it just as bearable as it could.  But the longing to be together was painful.  Sleepless nights of fear followed by wondering how and when our lives with other humans would begin.  Then the creation of the vaccine brought euphoric hope to most all of us.  We waited our turn sometimes anxiously and sometimes with trepidation.  My mind felt optimistic that the life I had would return to normal.  That traveling would begin again and most of all that being with loved ones in person, inside, with hugs would restore what all humans need and want....physical contact.  

     It has been 2 years and that hope of gathering has begun with its stops and starts.  We haven't resumed life truly as it was but for the most part we did all get together this past July.  Far too short a time but I took what time our children could give and appreciate each moment and hug that was shared.   We all shared some time this past Christmas but the holidays always feel rushed and scattered.  Time shared is fleeting and once over I realize how much more I want.  Their driving away to an airport to fly home or their long car journey back home leaves the house in a hushed silence that the only way I can cope is to start loads of laundry to fill the empty silence.   I slowly digest the days together as I lay in bed weary to sleep but that ability to fall asleep plays fickle.  

     So why am I feeling sad?   Why am I unable to accept that they live far from us and move on?  For some parents they seem to have constant busyness to occupy their empty nest.  As though they have been waiting for the empty nest.  Me?  I loved the full nest. 


Long ago, I reached for you and there you stood

Holding you again could only do me good

How I wish I could

But you're so far away


     Family has and always shall be the most important part of my living and breathing.  Thus adapting to not having them around puts me in a quandary.   Obviously having friends would make a difference in filling the space.  And there I have the next roadblock.  Dearest friend does not live near me.  I have poorly cultivated strong friendships nearby.  I realize I have always been a quiet one.  I'm not terribly outgoing and I'm an introvert.  I don't belong to any clubs (except my gym), I don't attend church, and with the years flying by I can count on one hand the friends I can say are true friends and are not family.  I have some endeavoring ahead of me.  

     I'm not sure I'll ever fully except my family not near me.  I treasured the times I had with family dinners, parties, and holidays with my parents and my in-laws.   The casual cup of tea with my mother-in-law where chatting came so easily and warmly.  Old neighborhoods with women of common age and children where we could relax and watch our kids play and for us to share mothering.  Those times nurtured me.  The age beyond motherhood years is a time I have found to be lonely and of less need.  I'm reflecting of articles I've read of the elder adult in present years, of not having purpose or being needed which equates to depression.   I have thought much about how our elders are cared for.  With the passing of our parents whom each had very different scenarios but thinking those years the need for assisted care or nursing homes seemed normal and expected at some point and time.  My heart tells me other.   

     My grandmother developed Alzheimer's when I was 18 and was placed in a Nursing Home.  It seemed a common act to medicate (drug) a wandering elder to keep them in place.  My Nan did try to escape once and a part of me applauds her act of defiance.  Thereafter she was never fully awake but in a state of sleep without her being able to do much of anything independently.   I would never wish this on anyone.  That was her life for the next 12 years and I mourn the loss of asking her about her life when I would have appreciated her stories.  

     Visiting her I met a few elderly ladies who enjoyed seeing my children when we came to visit Nan or as I called her to my children "Nana who is sleeping" because they never, ever saw her out of bed or talking.  What a loss!   But those little ladies who were in their rooms or sitting in the hall in a wheelchair lit up with loving smiles and could hardly wait to have me come close to see the children.  What a lonely place without the young to brighten ones spirits with hugs and laughter.  

     I understand these many years after my mom's passing why she never wanted to be in a nursing home.  Having to watch her mom those many years fade away would be heartbreaking.   Making the choice due to her safety, which at the time seemed the only option, could not have been easy to make.   Thus when my own mother developing what looked like FTD but in the end was Alzheimer's, it was made clear that she would stay in her home.  In my blog A Walk into Oblivion ~ A Daughter's Story (https://awalkintooblivionadaughtersstory.blogspot.com/)  I explain of the complicated time of her incompetence.  She died in her bed in her room as she wished.  With her personal world in place whether she knew it or not.  

     My dream would be to be near my children to stop by for a cup of tea at their home or ours.  To do the Sunday dinners my sweet mother-in-law did for the family to gather at the dining table.  Looking back those dinners brought us to her home so she could hug, snuggle with the grandchildren and see her own grown children mixing together.  I can almost taste her rotisserie chicken and for dessert her apple pie.  I would love to be able to do that!  I dream of going out to lunch together or plan a picnic on the weekend to lay under a tree and just let the flow of togetherness wash over me.  I dream of a grandchildren I could see so often that I would know exactly their favorite food, song and story because I would be a part of it.  That sleepovers would be easy, trips to the park would be easy, spontaneous.  I'm reaching but I can feel that way.  

    I will be grateful for all the time I share with my children and grandchildren even with them far away.  I will try to share about me in the ways I can and what they wish to knew.  We will try to visit them without overstaying that time together and fondly look forward to the together times we plan in the future.  I'll try to cultivate friendships near me.   

     

Tuesday, February 22, 2022

Quickening

      A new life is blossoming.  Our middle daughter is carrying our first grandchild!  Could my heart be more full?  

     Here I sit, creating a beginning of writing once more.  This step into my thoughts that I let go, gave up, felt I could not conceive of, here I sit.  Here I sit with fingers and mind letting forth my awakened thoughts....

     Quickening

Quicken:  transitive verb                                                                                                                                     1  a:  to make alive                                                                                                                                             2  b:  to cause to be enlivened  

      Perhaps I needed a muse to get my first nudge.  The new year.  Letting go of thoughts that were negative of what I could create.  Trust.  If I gave encouragement to others to be creative why did I doubt myself?  My first thoughts of doubt with writing were the passing of the elders in our families.  By 2020 each year from 2014 an elder has passed.  A generation of loved ones to never hear, never ask those questions that spring forth in my mind, never feel their loving arms and sweet kisses. I found myself in a darkness as though a candle had blown out and my eyes not yet adjusted.   I was not in fear, but in preparation of a new direction in my life.  

     It took the time it needed.  

     Quickening

         Quicken: intransitive verb                                                                                                                                   1 a: to come to life                                                                                                                                                b: to reach the stage of gestation at which fetal motion is felt                                                                          c: to shine more brightly

      

     A week ago my hands lay upon Erin's growing belly in hopes of feeling the littlest kick baby might indulge us with.  It had not been so long ago when she felt the first quickening.  We waited in silent pause.   A holy moment for me.  This woman my hands lay upon once was inside the cradle of my womb and now she is before with her child to be growing each passing day.   

                                                                   * * * * * *

     The first flutters of life with our first born felt like butterfly wings inside my womb.  Slightly ticklish sensations I blissfully pondered upon.  I wanted to share those flutters and instinctively I placed Tim's hand to my belly to feel our child move.  I thought if I felt it he would too.  Instead those early flutters were for me only.  

                                                                    * * * * * *

     Then I felt the smallest of movement against my hand.  Fleeting.  Erin and I waited with smiles upon our faces.  I wonder at who this little one shall look like.  I wonder what eye color and hair color they shall have.  I wonder at the first cry that shall come after birth and how my daughter will be immediately overcome with joy to hold her child and look upon him or her with instinctive love.   

     One more nudge for me to feel....my grandchild....hello little one....I love you.

                                                                   * * * * * * 

     New beginnings may happen at any time.  Patience and openness.   Awareness of the subtle nudge to let go of fear or the obstacles that may be thrown my way.   I'm allowing myself the time to grow and let go and have the pleasure of what comes as my fingers click upon the keyboard.  

     

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