Thursday, June 22, 2006

Adjusting

(There would be a picture here but Blogger is having another of its little picture rejecting snits, so I'll have to add that later. Update: I have given up on both Blogger and Photobucket and uploaded the phto I wanted with this post to Flickr. It's hard to get good help.)

On my travels through the blogosphere, I not only find the nonsense of the badgers and mazes and such, but real people facing real life challenges, one of the greatest of these being grief.

Carol's mom passed away a while back and she occasionally posts about the journey she and her father are now taking, through grief and back to whole again, if that can indeed ever happen.

TC got word recently that his dad had passed away. It wasn't quite the jolt for him that it was for Carol, as his dad hadn't been as much of constant presence in his life, but nonetheless, the passing of a parent is never easy.

In one of Carol's recent posts, she said,

"I couldn't call her to tell her I was sick. She was always a great one for sympathy. No matter how insignificant my pain, she honored it and gave me complete support. But yesterday I couldn't get that from her. It seemed inconceivable because I can totally remember her. I can hear her and see her. How can it be that I can't call her? She has not faded from my brain at all, but she is completely gone. It doesn't make sense."

Reading that reminded me of my own struggle to grasp the inconceivability of my mother being gone. It was as drastic as if I woke up one morning and was told that the sky would be orange for the rest of my life, never, ever blue again, so great was the rift in the fabric of my universe. I'm not sure if it was because my mom was the first of my parents to pass away, or if it was because your mother (if you're lucky) is the first human being of whom you become aware and for a time, is your total universe, or a combination of both, but it was quite a mind-blowing experience, adapting to a world without my mother. Don't get me wrong, I had quite tidily untied those apron strings, ripped them firmly in two, in fact, and had lived several thousand kilometres away from my mother for almost 10 years before she died. I was a mother myself by that time. But I always knew she was there if I needed her and like Carol's mom, she was always interested in what I was doing and wanted to see my sore toe or hear about my cold in that way that only your mother does. And the idea that I would never, ever hear her voice again? Completely, totally, mind-bogglingly inconceivable.

But that was 16 years ago, and time passes and grief lessens and you do eventually get used to that orange sky. You never, ever like it, but you become used to it.

I still don't like it.

13 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Mwaaaaah! X

(for being a caring soul)

June 23, 2006 at 6:19 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm fortunate to still have both my parents - but my Dad's health is a constant worry and I deliberately don't think about the time ahead.
Very thoughtful post.

GoodTwin

June 23, 2006 at 6:44 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I don't even want to think about when my Mum's time comes - that's a whole different level for me.

June 23, 2006 at 7:38 a.m.  
Blogger Misty said...

I know that orange sky all too well. It had green stripes put in after my father died as well.
The strangest thing is, that everybody looks at you as if you're mad, until the day comes when they see the orange and green sky as well.
That's when they understand.

June 23, 2006 at 7:49 a.m.  
Blogger WrathofDawn said...

TRT - Didn't know I was an old softie, did you? I'm not all badgers and vulgar Pooh satires, you know.

GoodTwin - Went through the same thing with both. Don't think. Just treasure them while you have them.

Mr. Fab - Yes, but you'll be okay. After all, you've got cookies. And Mrs. Fab.

tc - Too true, pet. But like us all you'll get through it.

Misty - That too, is true. There's no teacher like experience. And she's a bitch. Still, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

XX OO to all!

June 23, 2006 at 4:56 p.m.  
Blogger zoe said...

a very thought-provoking post which has made me realise how glad i am that i am back on speaking and visiting terms with my parents, even though i don't and won't see them often.

but i wonder, as i don't call them much and vice versa, will i miss them as much as the above people miss their loved ones who have past away ?

June 23, 2006 at 7:06 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I have heard that you have your soft bits.

June 23, 2006 at 8:31 p.m.  
Blogger WrathofDawn said...

Zoe - I'm glad you are, too. We only get the one set, no matter whether they suit us or not. No way of saying, pet. Just enjoy 'em while ya got 'em.

TRT - Yak, yak. You wish.

June 23, 2006 at 9:00 p.m.  
Blogger Alistair Coleman said...

Six years and I still miss her.

My last words to her "I'm just off to get Dad from the airport. Bye"

We didn't get back in time.

Deep, eh?

June 25, 2006 at 6:31 a.m.  
Blogger WrathofDawn said...

SD - Well, it's been 16 years and 10 years and I'd give my eye teeth to talk to either of them again.

I had a similar situation with my dad. I was talked into taking a break and leaving the hospital for a breath of fresh air and a change of scene. And didn't come back in time.

June 25, 2006 at 3:09 p.m.  
Blogger Jim Cooper said...

My Dad is eight years gone and Mom is six years gone. It took a long time to get over being an orphan in the world. I still talk to Mom on just about a daily basis. I know she's there...but it isn't the same as picking up the phone or stopping by. My Mom lived 15 minutes away..which was great for my kids as they grew up with loving grandparents...whom they miss terribly.

June 26, 2006 at 2:44 a.m.  
Blogger WrathofDawn said...

Yep. An orphan. That's what it feels like.

Sadly, grandparents are a rare commodity in my family. We all seem to be late-in-life children for some reason or another, so neither I nor either of my parents knew their grandparents, nor do my children. I should be around to see mine, though. At least I hope so.

June 26, 2006 at 12:01 p.m.  
Blogger WrathofDawn said...

Grandchildren, that is.

Sheesh! My junior high grammar teacher would be appalled but that sentence.

June 26, 2006 at 3:25 p.m.  

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