Grief Weather

Mantle of winter

Windy pall 

swirling and wrapping around me

Icy rain and snow

piercing my skin

Chill that holds my heart

within its firm grip

Blaze of warmth 

does not touch

the nether reaches of my soul

Mantle of winter

Please release me

Until Tomorrow

was what I said in my last post. That phrase could mean 'until tomorrow', in this case 'in a month', or it could be 'goodbye'.  

It was goodbye.  

Me and Bobbi

Pheasant Run Farm Bed and Breakfast

Winter Concert and Live Recording

January 2014

My friend Bobbi came by on Sunday evening, around 7:30. She brought her guitar and we all kept company with Mom in the family room. Bobbi played, my brother Matt, daughter Ginna, and I joined in, laughed, listened. 

At 9:00 Bobbi was getting ready to leave. I walked her into the living room. We talked for a minute and then my brother poked his head in the door. He said to me "I think you better come in to the room". Bobbi opened her guitar case and went back into the family room with me.

Our last family portrait with Mom

Thanksgiving 2013

She played her guitar softly, I climbed into the bed on one side of Mom, and Ginna climbed in on the other. Matt held Mom's hand. We hugged her, kissed her, and loved her into the Arms of God. Ginna gently removed the holy medal from around Mom's neck and fastened it around her own. Mom died at 9:15 pm, 54 years to the day that I was placed in her arms from Catholic Charities. It was the perfect ending.

Bobbi was blown away. I think, at that very moment, she understood what I have felt for a long time. That it is as important a moment seeing someone pass into the next life as it is welcoming a newborn into this world. It is a true and sacred privilege. 

 Mom, Geneva (my cousin Suzanne's adoptive mother), and my Aunt Jo, Mom's older sister.

 Of course Mom brought along a hat and scarf she knitted.

In Harrisburg.

 Mom doing one of the things she loved best - holding babies. 

This is Lily, my niece.

Mother's Day, May 2009

Mom with great granddaughter Elise.

Mother's Day, May 2009

 Patty, Lesli and Mom. 

Ginna and my friend Lin were there too

Surprise 50th birthday party at Patty's house

December 2009

 As usual Mom was clowning

These rings were in Mom's 'memory box'. 

A silver one with flowers, and a gold one with hearts. 

When she gave them to me a few years ago she couldn't remember where they came from

She also gave me her engagement ring many years ago

Because I live 2 hours from 'home', whenever I wanted to 'channel' Mom, I would always wear these. It was sometimes difficult to talk to her on the phone, so for me - this was my connection. 

 Her charm bracelet 

A sliver cross bracelet 

We added some of Mom's holy medals to the links in between

My friend Kerri and I made them into necklaces, by attaching another bracelet chain. I have other pieces too. Some that I had made for her over the years. I have been wearing something of hers every day since she has been gone. Now instead of them channeling my Mom, I consider them my Armor. They are a way to have her with me to help me fight this battle of grief.

A sweet remembrance from cousin Jim Drager:
I'm so saddened by the loss of Aunt Ginny. In my mind, she will always be the most positive, loving and kind person--consistently, that I've ever met. I still remember her at my first Holy Communion, giving me a hug and kind words. She was always that way. What a beautiful person.
In a way, I celebrate her by trying to emulate her. I can only hope to be a fraction as good as she was.
I'm so blessed to have her and you all as part of my family. I am thankful.
I'm sorry that I could not be at the services. Know that I am with you in prayer and thoughts. 

 While we were waiting for Hospice to come I made this wreath for Mom. It now hangs on her front door. She would like it.

I have tried to write this post many times in the past month. There is more tell.

with love, Me

I wished I had gotten help sooner

You know how some blogs have a day where they just post pictures? Well this isn't one of those days, nor is it one of those blogs. This one is all words. As soon as I am done here - I hope to go take a short nap.
I will admit, I have had a few difficult years here lately. Some of the early stress was self-induced from trying to fit my business into a place where it really didn't fit. I worked long, hard hours at it, but then I had to face facts. Fact facing took another 6 months. But boy, when I stopped, the relief was palpable. Whew!

If you read my blog - then you may have read this post:What day is it? That was back in mid July. Since that time, my mother has been diagnosed with Chronic Myelo Monostatic Leukemia - also known as MDS. MDS is a pre-leukemia and can be sent into remission - with some effort. It helps to have some things in your corner - a semblance of physical strength, an awareness of what your body is capable of, as well as other intangibles. My mother has *nothing* to bring to this fight. And yet my cousin and I agree - she is the woman with nine lives. We don't know how she does it. To date, my mom has had chemo 10 times, been transfused 8 times, and been to the hospital 2 times. This I can deal with. There is a plan, there is professional help, there is a treatment. 

What I can't deal with, is having to be her parent. It is like being a parent to an ornery child/teenager. There is constant wrangling - to try and get her to eat better, to exercise, to not go up and down the stairs alone, to keep her help button around her neck, to keep the phone with her when she moves around the house. This is exhausting. She prides herself on being stubborn. Right, sure ... Better traits to emulate: being cooperative, and agreeable, helpful.

Other stresses in Pennsylvania - Jennifer's mom, Mary Lee - has had to move from one assisted living facility (too expensive) to another - which is a very difficult transition for an Alzheimer's patient, and Jennifer's dear niece, Sarah dies suddenly at age 26. We are devastated. 
The day we memorialized Sarah - I called my mom at lunch time, to make sure she had eaten. No, she hadn't. Please at least go get a yogurt. She did. And then she fell. 3 hours later when I went back to her house, where was she? On the step into the family room, crying and calling out - because she couldn't get up to a standing position - and couldn't call for help - because she refuses to wear the help button or carry the phone with her. I am ... speechless.

Meanwhile, at home, my daughter is getting ready to go off to college - and I am not able to spend any. quality. time. with. her. because I am up in Pennsylvania 3 or 4 days out of every week. She IS leaving - do I know what I am going to do without her? No.

Before I know it, it is September. I am not sleeping, I am exhausted, unhappy, blowing up at nothing, crying at the drop of a hat. I need help. I don't want to talk about any of it anymore, because it feels like bile in my throat. I haven't felt this helpless or 'out of it' since my daughter Callie died. This alone is a revelation. I feel fragile. (Go ahead - say it like they say it on "The Christmas Story" - at least it will sound funny!) I need happy pills and sleeping pills because I feel like I am losing it.
Where is my husband in all of this? Staying below the radar, poor guy - at least he makes me happy - but I am sure he wants to just fix this and make. it. go. away.

My daughter has gone off to college. I am surviving this so far. It may be like early grief - perhaps I am just in shock. 
I am now taking a sleeping pill. I am up to the maximum dosage. Now, it is just a waiting game. This pill is supposed to work on both ends of my problem. 
Ergo, with proper sleep comes happiness. 

I hope you have sweet dreams.
Until next time, Liz