Monday, October 19, 2009

"You are with me and you are everything"

Where have I been? Does anyone even check this blog anymore?

Well, I've been over at the Cancer blog, and if you know mw at all, you've been reading that. I now feel very blog-less, as Dad is gone, and this blog was very centered on workout routines and food obsessions. I am somewhere in between the two, both nowhere and everywhere. I am still very much consumed with what the last 18 months have been to our family, and the ripples are still ebbing out farther away from the epicenter of it all. The rest of the world is in full stride, and here I struggle to get in step. I stumble, trip, sometimes stop all together. I want so desperately to find my normal again. What 'normal' is, continues to evolve for all of us. I still don't sleep, barely eat. I am overwhelmed with my own grief, and yet I have to deal with the grief of my children and mother. I feel compelled to be the strong one, yet inside, I am breaking to pieces.

If I've learned anything throughout this, it's that life is fleeting and fragile, and it shouldn't be wasted worrying about bullshit. I've learned that there are people that step up to the plate when there's tragedy, and then there are those who won't. For whatever reasons, they cannot be there for you. I have been appalled and angry at individuals I thought were my friends, but I have come to a form of acceptance. I pity those who can't trudge through with someone they care about. I find it sad that they will never truly experience the full range of emotion life can bring. It's not just about the sweetness and joy; it's about the sadness, bitterness, and grief. Sharing with someone in their darkest hours is deeply intimate, and I will forever feel a connectedness to those who reached out to me while my father lay dying.

I no longer fear death. As a child, it terrified me. I could not imagine anything worse than my parents dying, or me dying. I have found serene peace in all of this. Death will come for me, someday, I hope not too soon, but when it does, all I pray for is a beautiful death. It is a journey, a pathway to the cosmos, and I feel immensely and profoundly honored that I could walk that path with Dad. I couldn't follow him all the way, but I stood on the shore and waved goodbye, and watched him drift away. What greater honor is there than that?

The completely vain and earth-centered side of me is delighted at the side effect of caring for a dying father 24/7 for a month: I weighed 128 this morning. I haven't seen this side of the scale in close to eight years. Unfortunately, I haven't done any exercising - no kettlebells, no walking, nothing, so while I am skinny as hell, I am flab. I picked a up the 12kg today and eased into it with 200 singles, which kicked my ass. I am trying to look at my weight loss as a fortuitous gift, and try to maintain as I tone and build muscle. What they say is true: weight loss is mostly about food, not exercise!

I don't know what this blog or the other one will become. I don't know where I'll post or what I'll post about. But I'm still here.

All you hear is time stand still in travel
And feel such peace and absolute
The stillness still that doesn't end
But slowly drifts into sleep
The greatest thing you've ever seen
And they're there for you
For you alone you are the everything
For you alone you are the everything

4 comments:

Amy Jurrens, RKC said...

Well, hello! Good to see you here. You popped up at the top of my blog list. This is a good sign. You. Writing. You're moving toward a new normal.

Just keep swinging, swinging, swinging. Iron therapy.

hillary said...

I still check this blog! You weigh 32 pounds less than me. Highly impressive. I came down with a fever on saturday night. There was a woman in front of me at the service who kept throwing me nasty looks because I was coughing; looks like she was right about me being a bad seed. I swear I didn't mean to spread the pestilence, I've had this cough for a couple weeks. Oh well...
I'm glad the blogging continues, you are a lovely writer.

Mark Reifkind said...

christine

I do check this blog from time to time and found this today. I lost my Mom Aug 6 and it still hurts bad. I can't take her number out of my phone and still think I should call her as I havent spoke with her in awhile.I lost my Dad three( wow, almost four) years ago and it still hurts too. it's very different when you lose parents. I wasnt ready for it and don't know how one can be.
I feel your pain, I just wish I had some advice that would help but I don't.your knew understanding of death will bring some inner peace and consultation as well as the reality of your kids, your husband and yourself still being here but it does put everything into perspective, albeit a very strange perspective.

take care
mark

Christine said...

Thank you, Mark. Someone told me that it will get worse before it gets better, and so far that's true. There is just a big empty hole in my life. Some days I still can't wrap my brain around that he is gone. I don't like finality.