Monday, August 30, 2010

Processing

The world as we know it changed today in a significant and palpable way ... at least for us, living here, on this quarter acre in suburban southern Maine.

We experienced the loss of the family matriarch today.

In his essay, Nature Emerson talks about the futility of trying to use words to describe nature, in particular, but also feelings and thoughts. Words can not convey true meaning. They always fall short.

This evening, after Grammy passed, we were home, and I was outside watering the gardens and hanging out a load of laundry. The grackles are visiting us this week and in preparation for their long flight south for the winter, they are enjoying filling up on the black cherries from our tree in the backyard. We love watching them, although we usually prefer that they come a little later in the year ... with everything being two weeks early, the maples already sporting their fall colors, and the Farmer's Almanac predicting a cold one for us in the northeast, we're not terribly surprised they're here.

I turned away from the laundry line to move the hose, and when I turned my attention back to the clothes, I saw movement just above the clothesline. It was a tiny feather, a gift from the grackles, and if I want to go there, a message from Grammy that all was well.

I can't say how I feel right now. It's all a jumble, and while I know that she is at peace and that she is no longer in the severe pain she has been experiencing these last few years as her physical body slowly deteriorated, I also know that we have experienced a huge loss, and mingling in there somewhere is also an intense feeling of regret for failing to have learned from her what I could while I could. I know she had lessons for a willing pupil I failed to be.

Her daughter, our aunt, left us just over a month ago, and Grammy followed too soon.

So much ... feeling, and as Emerson so wisely observed, words fall short.

Our lives are forever changed by today's events, but change doesn't have to be bad. It just has to be.

I may be quiet for a while, while I finish processing ....

13 comments:

  1. My deepest sympathy for your loss. I’m sure you will always keep your memories of her in a pocket of your heart.

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  2. I'm sorry for your loss. You guys are lucky to have had her nearby.

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  3. I know that Gramzilla loved you very much. I could see the repsect and admiration she had for you. This brings to mind something I have been pondering lately ... procrastination. I will save it for a blog post.

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  4. God bless her and you...So sorry for your loss.

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  5. Wendy, I'm so sorry for your family's loss. You will all be in my thoughts.

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  6. Im sorry for your loss. You will be in my thoughts.

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  7. My condolences on your loss. I remember losing my Grammy. I was just over 15 years old. It seemed like someone untied the laces that held the world together.

    Take your time processing.

    God bless.

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  8. Thinking of you and your family. Wishing I had words of wisdom.

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  9. Sorry to hear of your loss. Grief is both universal to those who live long enough, and completely unutterable, even to others who have been there. Take care.

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  10. I am so very sorry for your loss. My hunch is you learned more from her than you know, and you will find comfort in that as time passes.

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  11. I'm so sorry for your loss, Wendy. Whether expected or not, family death is a major blow and always leaves a hole that cannot be filled. Please accept my condolences.

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  12. Wendy, much sympathy to you and the family.
    Warm blessings,
    Nikki

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  13. Oh Wendy, I'm so sorry for your loss. My thoughts are with you...

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