with love...

you were the most wonderful mother-in-law a girl could want. you will be so sorely missed.requiem eternam
requeim eternam dona eis
Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis
requiescant in pace amen.please remember Patricia & her family in your prayers. her funeral Mass is on 16 july, the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel.for now i'm taking a bit of a break from blogging. a very special thank you to my prayer warriors in the Eternal City... with love until next time, QdiB

here & there

first...my heart is with dear karen in this difficult time. if you have a moment, drop by this lovely lady's blog & give her a kind word & a cyber hug.
Requiem eternam
Requiem eternam dona eis
Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis
Requiescant in pace
Amensecond...annie, you read my mind in the 24 may post! your comments echo my thoughts exactly. i didn't even write a poem for one single impression though i thought the photos conveyed the sentiments adequately. if you would like a whirlwind poetic adventure, please visit OSI where the prompt this week is 'dropped'.finally...a hint as to why all the blog-laziness...in just 48 hours we will be winging our way to this glorious place! i will no doubt breathe a huge sigh of relief as all the busy-ness of daily life & how one might condense 2 months worth of chores into 1 settles into a restful week with the family followed by 2 weeks of italian lessions & finally a grand adventure with melissa! stay tuned for travel updates!!

touch of love

our roses are in a fit of profuse bloom right now & i cannot resist keeping a few clipped & scattered about in bud vases indoors. one of my favorite spots for a bloom is on the windowsill of our kitchen sink. last week i was washing dishes, lost in thought, when a breeze carried the scent to me...memories of my daddy immediately filled my mind. he used to raise the very same variety that was blooming right in front of me. when i checked one single impression's prompt for this week's poetry, i was again lost in that moment. our senses can really stir so many memories in unexpected & quite beautiful ways! thank you to whomever suggested this prompt.

touch of love {tactile}

a breeze slipped

through the window screen

carrying a bit of you

& so i leaned into breathe

something of my childhood

rose petal against my cheek

softer than

a tear

like a lamb...

& so march ends! in this post i had hoped it would be so & the last several days surely lend some credence to the old wives' tale...in like a lion; out like a lamb.morning coffee on the deck (light coat needed but brilliant sun was quick to warm) with a swirl of birdsong that included a very precious treat~~ a jenny wren calling from our neighbor's tree! these sweet little birds were a favorite of my daddy (his birthday was yesterday). every year he would be sure to have a jenny wren house in one of his trees. he took great joy in leisure time on his swing listening to this wren's beautiful song. they nest in the area of PA where i grew up, but they do not here in eastern NC. however we are graced with their migratory visits in the spring & fall. imagine my joy the first year we lived in our home when i heard this song on my daddy's birthday~~ a gift from him for me, it seemed.D.'s parents have been here since last week & his mom is doing so much better. they are enjoying an early spring (PA is still a bit behind in temps & blooms). & i am enjoying family time multiplied plus boyworld healthy & on spring break!...aaahhhh. you cannot imagine how grateful i am for this time right now...it has been a rough month in so many ways at our home...even the gentle end is tempered by sadness. my soul sister L.'s mom passed away last week & our friend D. remains in the hospital with some complications. it seems so strange some days to look at a brand new blossom emerge, to breathe its glorious scent~~ the beauty collides in my brain with the sadness. when they both settle into place, the hope of springtime wins.

one more thought, or two...

if you observe lent, this post is most helpful. (thank you, minor friar!)

& please hold this dear blogger in your heart in her time of sorrow...

Requiem Æternam
Réquiem ætérnam dona eis,
Dómine,et lux perpétua lúceat eis.
Requiéscant in pace.
Amen

comfort & joy...

first the comfort...

these words keep floating through my thoughts today~~ they are the words i chose for one of the readings for both my parents' funeral Masses. i know i have posted them several times on the blog before this, & today as i remember josiah, they remain a true solace:

"the souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall thouch them. they seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us utter destruction. but they are in peace...as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. in the time of their visitation they shall shine, and shall dart about as sparks through stubble... those who trust in him shall understand truth, and the faithful shall abide with in him in love; because grace and mercy are with his holy ones, and his care is with his elect." (Wisdom 3:1-3, 6-9)

& the joy...

words~~ electronically & hand written...across many miles, even oceans...words that tie us, that bind our hearts...i re-read them & i feel such a joy & a peace...

hands working together...D.'s parents arrived friday night, escaping the great cold & snow of the northeast! their first order of business~~ a flurry of activity in my kitchen, filling our home (& refrigerator) to overflowing with good eats, enabling D. & i to engage in some serious Christmas preparation catch-up! we spent the day driving (ever-so-slowly) from place to place singing carols in the car & chatting with all kinds of friendly folks in the same Christmas-prep boat as us. we finally made it to the UPS store, arms ladened with treasures to send far & wide with some time to spare. oh, what a delight to arrive home to find a delicious meal, compliments of my dear in-laws, & the lights strung on our tree, compliments of our sweet babies...today, it's baking, baking & more baking!! tonight, we decorate our tree & follow with some relaxing & games by Christmas lights & candles. in spite of how i love to travel, there's no place like the comfort of home & the joy of family!

a heavy heart...

late last night josiah went Home.

please keep this dear family in your prayers over these very sad days.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

his dad posted this beautiful reminder on josiah's carepage...

"I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend.

He referred to the dates on her tombstone from the beginning … to the end.

He noted that first came the date of her birth and spoke of the following date with tears,

but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.

or that dash represents all the time that she spent alive on earth.

And now only those who loved her know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own, the cars … the house … the cash.

What matters is how we live and love … and how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard; are there things you’d like to change?

For you never know how much time is left that can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough to consider what’s true and real …

And always try to understand the way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger and show appreciation more

And love the people in our lives … like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect and more often wear a smile …

Remembering that this special dash might only last a little while."

The Dash by Linda Ellis

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

may all of you cherish every moment with those you love...

Requiem Æternam

Réquiem ætérnam dona eis,

Dómine,et lux perpétua lúceat eis.

Requiéscant in pace.

Amen

last

i did not mean for this past week to be a rambling discourse of sadness; it started out as a simple answer to a simple question. in trying to make sense of my thoughts & to explain them more clearly, i kept hearing the advice of Brad, our funeral director...

"lean into your grief."

he did not tell me what my grief would/should look like, but he did gently tell me not to fight it.

we are reassured that we are blessed when we mourn. i became fascinated with this whole idea as i passed through the dark valley. this was not an easy path but it offered a gentleness i could not have imagined.

my words simply tell of my own "leaning into it."

i cannot imagine what it would be for another. but in it, i know we are not alone.

ever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"the souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall thouch them. they seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us utter destruction. but they are in peace...as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. in the time of their visitation they shall shine, and shall dart about as sparks through stubble... those who trust in him shall understand truth, and the faithful shall abide with in him in love; because grace and mercy are with his holy ones, and his care is with his elect." (Wisdom 3:1-3, 6-9)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Requiem ÆternamRéquiem ætérnam dona eis,
Dómine,et lux perpétua lúceat eis.
Requiéscant in pace.
Amen

drop of joy

finally home after more than a month-long absence, i woke that first morning to a double rainbow over the marshland that shouted "love never dies."

very few things have ever given me comfort like that.

the glorious sign marked a shift in my grief...my numbness started to drip away. i could breathe a bit deeper. i could pray a bit more than my oft-uttered "please help me." & most hopeful to me, i could feel momma around me.

before that day i had spent nearly 3 weeks obsessing with "where" momma & daddy went. my mind could recite the catechism's answer but my heart could not understand it.

looking at that rainbow i knew i had been asking the wrong question. & i also knew that in this lifetime i would never be able to wrap my head around answers to questions like that.

it just wasn't important anymore.

one thing

in the heavy-hearted task of cleaning my parents' place i was able to find long stretches of mind-numbing labor punctuated with moments when time stood still & i comtemplated pieces of trivia & ordinariness that weave the fabric of life with strong threads, often unnoticed until their absences.

fragments of my childhood - an old spatula, a favorite drinking glass - provided tangible occasions of memory. i found myself holding tightly to things meant for other places...but in my hand, as though they were glued fast. to let go seemed to let go of momma & daddy all over again.

i had no real need for most of what i sorted...others did & so they would receive. hard as it was, i had to be pragmatic in the process - i could not dwell for long in the world of memory, for the distance to my home & the circumstances of their estate warranted it. these practical matters became the crutch of my functioning in those days...

3 piles for 3 different charities

pick up--sort--clean--move on
pick up--sort--clean--move on...

until the washcloth.

hanging alone on the bathroom towel rack was a solitary white washcloth...the one momma had used to wash her face in her last moments at home before we left for the doctor, for the hospital, for the funeral home.

a simple white square cloth became my undoing that day...i was done. needed a break. needed a darn good cry.

rational or not - i didn't care - i tucked it in my purse & it stayed there until i returned to my home a week later.

i have never washed it.
it still resides in my closet.
& it contains many tears.

again

i had 3 more days by momma's side.

on the 4th i would not make it in time. she even warned me. i'm so glad i was listening.

it is not fun to watch someone struggle for every breath. you find yourself breathing for her, but she does not improve & you become exhausted. so much so that you might even press your head against the metal bedrail just to feel something solid & real, something to carry your weight for a moment.

when someone tells you she is dying, she is. it's that simple. you've no room for doubt in your mind or in your time. momma told me she was dying in the same tone that she would have told me her best friend was coming to dinner or she needed to pay the phone bill...like it was on her "to do" list.

she died while i was attending to her broken furnace, surrounded by the chaos of a move & remnants of my childhood. the house was colder than the outside november air. my cell phone had no service. we were hours late leaving for the hospital on this errand she had requested, waiting for the service person, fearing pipes would freeze.

i opened the car door in the hospital parking garage to the sound of the 5pm angelus bells.

twilight again.

when they chimed their 5 rings of the hour, i told myself she was gone. i could feel the yet unfamiliar flutter of her soul nearby. every cell in my being knew her weighty absence & had yet to learn her new airy presence.

i turned through the familiar corridors with a purpose. stepping from the elevator, i was greeted with that look that i had once delivered to patients' families. no words could ever suffice.

arms all around me & finally i was alone with momma.

i did not find this unbelievable.

i combed her messy hair.

i found the spot where her skin was still warm (her mid shoulder area which my children still call the place of angel wings & i remembered this dearness)...& i held on for a very long time.

i lifted one eyelid to see her pretty green iris one last time but recoiled at the vacant stare returned to me.

i told her things i thought she should know.

i don't remember if i kissed her goodbye.

i called Brad & asked, "remember what we did for daddy's funeral 4 days ago?" he did. i replied, "please come get momma & do every bit the same in 3 more days."

& then i left the hospital for the last time.

tangible

what i remember...

he was gone a full week before i could see him, a week consumed with momma's dying too. she still drew a labored breath & held onto my hand~ she needed me. he was already gone from this place~ seeing him really meant seeing the shell of the man i needed to see.

i had to choose.
it was a very long week.

momma was in surgery when daddy's funeral began. she was out of my grasp for those few hours~ beyond my words of comfort in a place i hoped would relieve her longing heart for a moment & ailing body for a very long time.

finally, my time to say goodbye to him.

i kept touching his soft, wispy hair & his fingernails...they felt like him. i knew better than to try & find comfort in the feel of his skin. i had been around too many dead by then...i remembered the disturbing feel & i stuck to what carried his memory for me, not wishing to shatter it with something morbid.

life & death do not feel the same & i could only cope with one of them at the moment.

~solid ground~

from the funeral home to the church...Brad, our friend & unfortunate funeral director (imagine that occupation in a small town) asked me if i wished to cover daddy's remains & close the coffin lid.

i could not begin to imagine doing that.

he patted my shoulder to let me know that my way was okay & then he removed daddy's wedding ring. i had never seen his hand without it. i placed it on my finger, in my heart intending it for momma but in my head knowing she would soon have no use for it.

i walked outside to breathe. i could not listen to Brad directing his staff. i could not watch them prepare daddy for his funeral Mass. i could not believe i was following a hearse to my childhood church.

i could not pray.
i could not speak.

Father F. had the choir sing & their music is all i remember...that & the cold coffin resting beside me. i put my hand on it to steady my every move.

by the time we reached the cemetery, momma was out of surgery. the nurse called my cell phone as i followed the pallbearers to daddy's gravesite. she wasn't doing so well...rather than being in the hospital, i think her heart was right there beside me & that made her post-surgical recovery that much more strenuous. surely her time under anesthesia was a relief from her newfound burden of widowhood; waking was not just waking to a medical recovery, it was also waking to a broken heart.

her presence with me was a keen as her absence.

another twilight...an ending of a day...& of a life. i know at that moment i would have preferred to leap into the light that hovers between day & night...clinging to the last notes of taps, letting them carry me far above the pain that had been & that was to come. the last note floated through the valley & in its wake was a silence that consumed me. i held my breath until the dry leaves rustled in a stray breeze.

in another moment we were driving away~ into twilight's last hurrah, heading again for the hospital.

thoughts on grief...

(this may take a few days)

you asked an honest question~~ my pained reply...

this is why i cannot breathe the air of my childhood...right now. it is filled with sobs i never let escape. to draw them back into my lungs now is to suffocate.

the light of november is forever slanted in a western twilight that hurts my waking eyes, shining in all the wrong crevices of memory, peeking through the curtain in the funeral home at the opposite time of day, confusing my sense of balance.

~starlight~
daddy died at sunset.

we were driving through richmond, homeward bound, when the call came...only half-way there. the rest of the journey was simply~ dark. my only solid memory of that night was sitting at momma's feet while she rubbed my arm. the conversations flowed over my head, words swirling to high for my sorrowful mind to reach. my only thought was how incredibly soft momma's hand felt.

i woke the next morning from a deep, bottomless (unexpected) sleep into a strange new world. suddenly i could no longer stand the thought of abiding in pure dark, something i once thought magical. i clung to the light that day in all its forms...the flashlight searching over the car's engine for clues to the problem, the sun's reflection dancing absurdly across the river ripples, the ambulance's red flashes as it pulled into traffic, the thin, waxing moon at dusk...even the many monitors that surrounded momma that evening in the emergency room.

she would have lights about her all night. i felt comfort in that.

late to our lodging after the nurses' reassurances, my pure exhaustion granted me reprieve from the morning's vibrant new fear. later...in the deep dark of night after moonset, someone turned off the last light...

i bolted upright, gasping for air.

it seemed a nightlight would be required. my return to sleep was a wary affair fraught with moments of clawing my way back to consciousness...each time was a renewal of the slide show of the previous 36 hours of my life in various speeds of discontent which would not be stopped.

a 4:30 am waking was different...it was filled with hugs & kisses & my excited childrens' voices~ "momma, momma, come see!" they wrapped me in my coat & bundled my scarf around my neck as they told me of the wonder grandpa had sent to us straight from heaven.

looking up into the cold, clear sky stars were falling like rain...so many that i had exhausted every wish i ever had in a minute or two.

some of them have come true.

seven...

remembering...

in the palm of His hand

Corey...my prayers are with you & your family, especially today.Requiem Æternam
Réquiem ætérnam dona eis,

Dómine,et lux perpétua lúceat eis.

Requiéscant in pace.

Amen

gifts from my daddy...

68. you hung my crayoned masterpieces all over your workspace, not caring that the first ones were only ever done in red (my red period...)

69. you patiently taught my young self how to grow radishes & tomatoes, how to tell the difference between the weeds & the vegetables & how to harvest & eat them, just-picked & perfect

70. you did not bat an eyelash when your grandchildren wanted to join the polar bear club on your 70th birthday...you were the first in the very cold pool! (& the last out too!)

71. you taught me how to bear sufferings patiently, still with a smile & a kind word for everyone around you.

72. you taught me what love looks like...how to be a good spouse, a good parent, a good sibling, a good friend. everyone felt important in your presence.

73. you taught me the value of good, honest, hard work...

74. & the value of time to relax & just putter around with something you love

75. you tried to teach me how to fix things like appliances & cars, but alas, i gave up! you taught me patience in that...& you did not make me feel like a failure. instead you pointed out things you could not do very well or at all. you taught me that we are each given our own precious gifts for our very own lives, unique & special.

76. you taught me to see the worth in every single person one meets...no one was ever beneath you. you never, ever went to town without a smile & kind word for literally everyone who crossed your paths.

77. you taught me about family relationships...never entering the fray of bickering caused by something that was misunderstood. you taught me diplomacy. you taught me that everyone carries a great burden. you taught me that the benefit of the doubt is always better than the pain of doubting.

i can still see your wind-blown hair fluttering in the sea breeze on your last visit to our home. i caught a glimpse of you looking out to sea & i saw something in your eyes that made me long to see what you could. in a moment you turned to see a treasure brought to you by your grandson. you got down on your haunches (never minding the pain) & gave him that precious gift of your undivided attention, the sparkle of wonder in your eyes. then you rose & took his hand, seeking for the jewels paved on life's everyday road.

i miss you but your gifts live on.

happy birthday daddy!

angelus bells

i opened the door to a blast

of cold,

late november won & the warmth

slipped away.

the bell tower sounds filled my heart

with a memory of times past

when the angelus bells

meant "going home;"

not tonight, for me

as the musical notes changed

& the five dongs rang across the city

i caught my breath

& knew,

between each sound - the heralds of

change

the silence of the pause

whispered in my ear

of her passing

& again these angelus bells

meant "going Home."

~~~~~~~~

for you, mom, today...with a heart full of gratitude.

Requiem Æternam

Réquiem ætérnam dona eis,
Dómine,et lux perpétua lúceat eis.
Requiéscant in pace.
Amen

reflections...

i didn't decide to cry

it swept over me

like a rogue wave

& i just gave up

to its current,

the salty flow

from deep within.

it gushed forth

& i struggled for breath

struck like the rock at Horeb.

dry wells do not yield

to quench thirst;

dust does not cleanse

& so these tears

were alive to me

drawn from a fruitful depth

to wash

the places of hurt.

30 days of gratitude...for comfort in the sorrow. when my parents passed away, we lived in a new place far from them. one death was expected; the other a total shock only 11 days later. 2 funerals in 7 days. no matter how hard i try each year , i cannot dodge the memories of these days...even if i did not know the calendar, i would know by the slant of light & the rhythms of life. in the midst of this time, i was certainly moving forward in the current of "what must be done"...but my heart was wrapped in a protective layer of shock.

it was in this time that love had so many faces in my life...friends who cared not one whit for the charges on their cell phone bills~ they called often & talked as long as i needed. friends who dropped everything & came. friends who told other friends who told other friends & for the prayers of them all~ i could feel them every waking moment. new friends who were far away were no longer new friends...on our return home just days before Christmas after nearly a month away they had filled the frig & decorated the entire house & made sure we did not celebrate Christmas alone. friends who took the children out for fun (they really needed that) when i needed some down time. friends who recognized my slobbery, weeping voice when i called but could not speak for a bit. for Father F. who listened to my sorrowing struggles & gently helped with the funerals...as did B., a family friend & our funeral director~~a man so very kind & so very gifted in his work~ he is just what a grieving family needs. D.'s parents, who had the children nearly the entire month surrounding the illness, hospitals & funeral planning. D.~~ who was a circle of love around me the entire time protecting me from so many things, never considering himself through it all.

& i have a deep, deep gratitude for my faith...somewhere, at the core of it all, in the worst days, i could feel the love of God wrapped around me like the most comfortable quilt. i can't explain. i don't even care to.

getting in the holiday spirit...

30 days of thanks...

can this be day 21 of this wonderful theme? is it really Thanksgiving here in the US tomorrow already? my kitches says it is so!...the counter is beginning to fill with baked goods, the ever-present turkey is ready to be stuffed. i look around at all the abundance of this season of plenty. how can i not feel gratitude... for having enough to feel full~ in the heart & in the tummy, for the delights of the season's produce, for the recipes handed on to continue the traditions, for the aromas that will swirl all through the house today & tomorrow, for the chance to sit together at the table~ all six of us!~ & enjoy the bounty of laughter & love!...

i also feel deep gratitude for the memories of shared holidays with those we love... those who cannot be here any longer. my momma prepared thanksgiving dinners for most of my earlier childhood. by the time i was in high school, daddy's sister~ aunt O.~ decided that her siblings needed to draw closer as they were aging. she began hosting a beautiful thanksgiving meal every year over a period of a decade. she prepared the bird & its dressing with many side dishes. my aunts & momma also provided sides to the affair. many of the recipes were similar to momma's own recipes. these meals, overflowing with love, are some of the very best memories from my teens & early 20's. as happens with the passing of time, aunt O. found herself too overwhelmed to host on such a grand scale. this was around the time Baby Girl & K-Bug were babies. i was also overwhelmed at this time with the obvious tasks of early motherhood & found myself preferring to not pack the car for holiday jaunts. logically, this lead to yet another way to celebrate...i would host the holiday! i did so with great joy...my momma, my aunts & i in the kitchen with babies at our feet. what a very special few years they were.

now, my momma & my aunt O. have gone from this world. but the love does indeed live on. those babies are no longer at my feet...their hands are in the preparations. & i pass the torch of family recipes to them! for what's cooking wednesday i decided to share one of momma's traditional recipes (nearly identical to my aunts' recipes too)...her stuffing/dressing/filling~~whatever you call it...i call it very good!

Stuffing for a 10-12 lb. bird + one casserole dish (~2 qt.)

*melt 2 sticks butter on stove top & add 1 large yellow onion, diced, & 2-3 ribs celery, diced. saute until desired softness.

*place 16-20 cups semi soft bread cubes (i now use whole grain wheat - 2 loaves) in a large container

*season bread with salt, pepper, parsley, & nutmeg...i use fresh ground spices & fresh parsley, but momma did not~ it's all good!

*pour butter mix over the bread

*whisk 5-6 large eggs & pour over bread

*add milk to bread mix to achieve desired consistancy

*stuff your bird's cavities

*for remaining stuffing...butter a 2 qt. casserole dish & pat stuffing into it...poke holes with your fingers across the top of the stuffing...pour basting juices from your baking bird over the top of the stuffing...bake at 375 for 30-40 minutes, then serve.

may you all have a blessed, peaceful, wonderful thanksgiving!!

"four score & seven years ago..."

a travel reflection for today...D. & i were frequent visitors to gettysburg, PA when we lived nearby. i wrote this a few years ago on the anniversary (november 19) of lincoln's gettysburg address while we were staying in gettysburg...a reflection on why so many return to places of great battles, tracing steps & remembering...

the solitary leaf, the very last from the tree, fell without a sound in late november's heavy twilight. surrounded by shades of grey & brown, in the somber quiet, i wondered why we had come. is it to mourn those who passed more than a century ago, those we never knew? is it to pray for the healing of a national wound that still pains us?


when we are at peace as a people, death comes in many places, mostly solitary, sporadic. but when we are at war, when there is a great battle, death comes with much fierceness. the solitary, sporadic deaths of our ordinary lives create rippled voids as life's energy leaves our dimension. the mass deaths in war, so many at one time, in one place leave a great vacuum in there ~ a huge void that we, in later times, struggle to smooth & soothe.


it takes many of us, over time, to restore the gentle balance & heal ~ we come to stand in that place, imagining...bringing our energy to the vacuum...asking, "why?"...praying, "never again."

30 days of thanks...remembering those who have died for freedom's sake...with much gratitude.