November 26, 2009

Pin It My mind is a tumult of thought.

I thought about Mom today; as I did, I found it strange that someone you care about in this life could suddenly be whisked away. Photographs still remain. Videos might be left behind. Recordings of their voice might still be in existence…yet they are no longer with us.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to write about Mom, about how I’ve felt, about the good and the bad moments over the previous months since that fateful day this past summer. A whole lifetime has passed since those heartrending moments, and yet, it feels like it was only as long ago as a whisper shared amongst friends.

Time keeps going on whether or not we’d like it to.

The house was a melee of smells as family members were preparing the food for our Thanksgiving feast; however, I just felt that I needed to get out for a little while—to be alone—to think.

I decided to take out the trash.

I moved outside into the bitter crisp of November as the Thanksgiving wind buffeted me from all sides. In the distance, the pale light of the sun shone through the horizon’s misty clouds. I wanted that sun to bury its warmth deep into the empty and dark places of my soul. I stood, breathing in with lungs capable of still doing so, feeling the oxygen filling me.

I thought of the meal we were about to eat; the meal that she would not be taking a part in. It just seemed so inequitable, so unfair.

I retreated to my basement office to escape everyone and everything. I decided to organize files—as well as the accumulated slices of decades’ worth of living—to take my mind from the pummel of reflection. I settled down and found boxes rising about me in the minefield of disorganization…

Letters, photographs, various knickknacks and paddywhacks; they surrounded me like a vestibule of yesterday.

As I sifted though these fragments of my own life’s history, I felt myself remembering this particular student, that specific moment of childhood—a fragmented memory which had long-since been forgotten and lain dusty and dormant.

It wasn’t long before my dad came into the room.

Against the wall was a collection of artwork Dad had given to me on that last visit home, nestled amongst them were the sticheries, those which Arlene had done while she was still alive. Dad stared silently at each of these pieces in turn and then asked:

“Did you know that she wrote to you on the back of this one?”

I looked up from the papers I’d been sorting through, and shook my head. I arose from my place and moved slowly to where my dad was standing. The stichery was large, proclaiming “Welcome to the Zimmerman’s” proudly from its frame.

I turned the frame with trembling fingers and looked down at the brown paper backing. There, scrawled in curls I immediately recognized, I saw a message written to me. Mom had written it, she’d written sometime before—before the final days and moments that had taken her inescapably away.

I read over the note she’d written, my mouth dropping open. I was devoid of speech for several moments—I simply gazed at the writing before me.

And, just for a moment, she was there. Whispering those things I so much needed to hear, a message spoken from beyond the blistering confines of this thorny life.

When my dad departed from the room, I remained a few moments longer, gazing at the letter written to me.

I smiled.

Photographs still remain. Videos might be left behind. Recordings of voices might still be in existence…and testaments of love will not be forgotten.

Darkness and Light

Pin It I hadn’t planned on posting tonight.

I’d planned on wallowing in a pool of self-pity.

Isn’t that the fashionable thing to do? After all, it’s all about being ‘in,’ right?

The past few days have been a battle for me...I’m not going to lie; it’s been a skirmish in endurance and perseverance.

…make that survival.

Do you ever find yourself in the midst of those days when you just feel that you can’t go any further? That you can’t do any more than what you’re already doing? That you have given your all, and it’s just not enough? That every time you start to get a bit ahead, you suddenly find yourself three steps behind where you originally thought you’d be? Then, to top it all off, when the day has ended, there is still far too much to do?

The inbox is still full.

The outbox is much too empty.

The dishes are piling up.

When you came to work the past few mornings, the sun still had at least an hour before it even considered coming over the horizon; then, when you left, it had set many hours before, leaving you in total darkness…

It’s been one of those days, for the past several days.

I came home tonight in darkness. I walked outside feeling as empty as the parking lot which was laid out before me, a shadowy reflection of myself in the twilight.

I closed my eyes, allowing it to drench me, to consume me, and overflow to capacity.

I breathed in the warm evening air.

I opened my car door and started the ignition, thinking of tomorrow. Despite it all, I smiled. I found myself taking comfort in the fact that a warm bed awaited me, and a new day was readying itself in the wings for the morrow. When I was to awaken, everything would begin again yet anew, and it would be better.

The sun would rise again…and when it did, I would see it.

Friends, there is light.

Say...

Pin It What is it that we want to say, and yet don’t to those around us? Will we live our lives with regret, or with contentment knowing that we’ve spoken those things we’ve wanted?

No, I am not planning on dying anytime in the near future, however, I was thinking of the mortality of those around us. It would be a real shame not to say what we need to say.

That is, while we can.



And just a side note, yes, this song had been added into my "Soundtrack of Life."