The Holidays

What cannot be said will be wept.
Sappho


Weeping is the hardest part for me.  Once I start I am terrified that I will not be able to stop. The waves of grief crash over me with such ferocity that I am crushed under them gasping for breath.

Everywhere I look people are in the Holiday Season and I, not unlike many others, am in my Season of Grief.

New layers were added to my grief this year.  The loss of my daughter, Kelly, this summer and the passing of what would have been her 43rd birthday this past October.  The rapid approach of December 18th.  The 6th year anniversary of Michael’s death.  Christmas Day the first anniversary of my father’s death.  I feel like the bush in the photo, dormant covered in the weight of the cold unforgiving snow.  I can barely remember my spring when the first green shoots appear and later in my full glory under the sun I flowered and was full of hope.

My heart is heavy with it’s burdens and laughter seems like a blasphemy.  I have no will to celebrate and fill my days with shopping and merrymaking.  Instead, I wish to sit and ponder my memories and wrap myself in their warmth until the New Year when perhaps, once again I can flower and bask in the warmth of hope and new beginnings.

Our Birthdays Are Past

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

-Psalm 34:18

This is such a hard time of year for me.  I miss celebrating our birthdays together.  I miss Michael everyday but this time of year is especially hard.

So, here I am almost five years since his death and I am preparing for my father's death.  This is hard not only because I am grieving but because I know that my Dad is going to read this blog.

So much is going on...preparing for my siblings to arrive for early Thanksgiving and Cynthia's visit this weekend.  Each day we have tasks that range from the mundane to things that must be reviewed and talked about.  We are getting our ducks in order.

We laugh, we joke, we tear up.  This is when God showers you with grace.  You must be open to it. A friend of my parents gave me this card on Sunday.

Remember, the LORD will provide someone or something to get you through any difficulty.

Lord, help me to see your grace.

Help me to not focus on the loss but,
on the here and now.

~Cindy

Happy Birthday Michael

We have loved him dearly in life. Let us not abandon him until we have conducted him by our prayers into the house of the Lord.
~St. Ambrose


Today would be the celebration of your earthly birthday.  Though we would have waited until the third for the party.  So that we could celebrate our birthdays together.  All the years that we were together the 3rd of November became our joint celebration.  Our birthdays became so melded that at times it was difficult to remember that yours was the 2nd and mine the 4th.

Burnt Sugar Cake for you and pumpkin pie for me.  No candles too dangerous in the later years. How I wish you were here to celebrate, but you are not and I am sad.  Sad for me.  I know that you are in such a better place and your earthly suffering is over.

I miss you calling me Cinders, asking what the plan is for the day, and just sitting next to me.  I just wanted you to know that I am keeping my promise to you.  Happy Birthday!

Lord, you know
the depth of my grief.
I thank you for it.
For in this valley of tears
Are the lessons of;
Trust, Abandonment, and Obedience.
Your Will, not mine.

~Cindy

A backpack, St. Augustine, Lily and Gracie

"You have so made us, Lord, that we long for you, and our heart is restless until it rests in you."
-St. Augustine of Hippo

Lent is still confusing this year for me.  I am not sure what I am suppose to do.  So I am attempting to TRUST!

Cynthia left today for two months in Europe.  Helping her pack her backpack was frustrating, painful, and a reminder that I will be alone in this small but empty house.  I have not been alone in over 40 years!!!  I find the thought both exhilarating and terrifying.  I do not have to compromise with anyone but me.  Though compromise is the salt of life. Cynthia certainly kept me on my toes.  She kept me honest and humble.

St. Augustine struggled so hard to know God.  I think that is why he speaks to me.  What a great sinner, but what an incredible Saint.  The other aspect of St. Augustine is his longing for silence.  He is attracted to the beauty of the world and yet he longs to close his eyes from it so that he can see God.

My Mom shares with me stories of her Bible Study Group.  Really she asks me to pray for them, especially when one is in trouble or hurting.  Lily, I hope that Mom shares this with you.  I understand that your sister, Gracie has recently passed away and there is a hole in your heart.  I get that.  I still find myself examining the hole in my heart since Michael's passing.  Will it fill?  I do not know.  I am not sure that the hole is suppose to fill.  Instead, perhaps,  we are to learn from the emptiness that it brings us.  How can we be so sad when a loved one leaves us?  Are they not on their way to Heaven? Are they not closer to God than we?  Should we not be celebrating their reaching eternal life?

I am sure of this, when Our Blessed Mother stood at the foot of the cross and looked on the body of her son, I know there was a hole in her heart!  When she understood that He was resurrected the human side of her I am sure still had a hole.  He was her son, her baby.  She looked forward to being with Him in Heaven.  I look forward to being with Michael.

My prayer for the rest of Lent is borrowed from St. Augustine.

He bids you return to Him,
to that place within,
where peace abides,
peace that is never disturbed;
to that place from which 
Love never departs,
unless you depart from it.
Make your home in that place.


~Cindy

Did You Wonder Where I Was?

Beware not to disturb yourself, nor to be irritated on account of the defects of others, for it would be folly, because you saw a man throw himself into a pit, to throw yourself into another.
St. Bonaventure

Yes, I am late.  It was the Second Sunday of Advent and now it is Tuesday of that week.  My head has been spinning of late.   For some unknown reason I keep having a memory of an event in the Bahamas creep into my head.

It was around this time of year and the weather had been just awful.  It was so windy that we were tucked in a cove for over a week with steady wind around 40 knots with higher gusts.  We were safe, and our wind generator was making so much energy that we had to divert power! But we were getting a little stir crazy on the boat.  Finally we decided to launch the dinghy and go ashore for a walk.

As we climbed the bluff we could hear the waves crashing on the beach.  It was incredibly loud and as we approached the top we started to get sprayed.  The waves were huge, the beach was all but obliterated by them.  In fact they were crashing on the top of the bluff.  It was a sight to behold.  As we were standing there on occasion we would get glimpses of the beach and the amount of trash was unfathomable.

We returned in a couple of days after things had calmed down to go shelling.  There among the trash of broken and twisted items lay an unbroken light bulb.  I was amazed that it had made it unscathed to lay there reflecting the sun.

I feel like I am caught up in huge waves.  Being tossed about like so much trash, deposited on the beach only to be pulled back out to sea for more tossing about in the water.  I am distracted by others behaviors and find that once again my sin of judging is front and center.

I so want to be filled with anticipation and joy at the coming of Our Lord's Nativity, but there is this uneasiness that floats over me.  I cry at the drop of a hat.  I miss Michael!  I know it will pass as will the season.  But I don't just want it to pass unnoticed or unacknowledged, I want to feel it all.  The longing, the anticipation, the sadness, and the Hope.

Lord,
Help me to be like that light bulb.
No matter how tossed about I am or how bruised and battered.
Let me rest on the beach and reflect the light of Your Son.

~Cindy

Re-weaving my LIfe.

Since Michael's passing I have felt like someone pulled a loose thread on a tapestry or a loose piece of yarn from some crocheted afghan and I began to unravel. I was a mess.  But slowly I began to rewind my mess and put it in a neat ball so that I could once again begin to weave my life.

 For awhile I was content to lay on the floor in in puddle of emotion and have no purpose.  I cried all the time and my compass no longer pointed North.  It just spun around looking for North or a destination.

Little did I know that I was in my destination.  Though still on a journey, I am where I am suppose to be.  I cry less these days, tho in a moment I can feel the tears well-up when I think of Michael.  But I smile now more when I think of him and remember our time together.

I survived my first Mother's Day without him. I still have the four month anniversary of his death on the 18th of May and the 23rd of May will be the one year anniversary of his diagnosis.

I can't believe that the days are flying by so fast and each one moves me farther away.  Time might move me farther away, but it can not move him from my heart and mind.  He is with me.  He will always be with me.

Our Lord promised that He would be with us always.  He promised us Eternal Life.  In these past months I have felt the Lord moving in my life in ways I never imagined.  He has showered me with blessings.

Lord,
I thank you for your many and wondrous blessings that you shower on me daily.  I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and life eternal with you. I know that I have much to do.  Let us pick up our thread and begin to re-weave my life.

~Cindy

Dreams

Dreaming has always been a healing for me.  I figure out answers to problems and concerns while I sleep.  Since Michael's death I haven't been dreaming.  Or if I am I do not remember them.  Instead I feel like I am in total darkness, nothingness.  I awake exhausted and long for the nights filled with dreams.

Many times in the Bible God used dreams to help people know what to do.  He warned Joseph that it was okay to  take Mary as his spouse.  He warned Joseph to take Mary and the child into Egypt for safety.  He warned the Magi not to go back and tell Herod were they had found the child.

I finally dreamed three weeks almost to the day of the anniversary of Michael's death.  There he was talking to me.  He had a lot to say, but I can't remember any of the words.  I just know that he was there healthy and hearty talking to me.  When I awoke I was comforted.

This morning I feel lost and alone.  I am like a blank chalk board waiting to be written on.

He found them in a wilderness,
a wasteland of howling desert.
He shielded them and cared for them,
guarding them as the apple of his eye.

Deuteronomy 32:10

~Cindy 

Come to Me...

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest."  Matthew 11:28

I am weary Lord.  My heart is heavy and yet I find comfort in Your word and Your promise.

I look for Your blessings and find them in little things.  Laughing on Christmas Day with family.  Enjoying a sunrise or sunset.  Completing the tasks that are numerous before me.

I especially want to Thank You for the feeling I had yesterday as I hugged Michael's urn.  For just a moment he was back in my arms.  I wanted to hold him forever.

Lord, help me to lay my burdens down and lay in Your arms.

~Cindy

The Fourth Sunday of Advent Arrives

Sound the trumpet in Zion; the day of the Lord is near; he comes to save us, alleluia.

Open to me the gates of holiness;
I will enter and give thanks.
This is the Lord's own gate
where just men may enter.
I will thank you for you have answered 
and you are my Savior.





Here we are days away from Christmas, all our preparation almost complete.  I finally put up a small simple tree that my sister lent me.  I only put on small white lights.  It sits in the window like a small beacon in the darkness.

It is barely four days since Michael passed into eternity.  Our preparations to tie up his earthly life are just beginning.  The preparation for my new life without his physical presence is upon me.

I feel like the night that we were crossing to the Bay Islands on Dragonheart and the seas were confused and large.  We were tossed about and felt lost, lonely and afraid.  Yet, as dawn broke even though the ocean was steel gray dolphins came to swim beside us and remind us that this night was ending and the new day was dawning full of promise and land.

Psalm 30:5 reminds me:

Weeping may last through the night, but JOY comes with the dawn!

My joy will come....I love you Michael...

~Cindy

Called Home

Psalmody 19 December

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul;
come and rescue me, for you are my
refuge and my strength.

Michael's battle with pancreatic cancer ended yesterday.  He went surrounded by family praying the rosary and playing chant music from the Benedictine Nuns.   We all talked to him even though he could not answer.  He was too busy passing from this life of pain to the life of eternal joy.

We made a promise to each other that I would pray for his soul in purgatory and he would pray for mine.  I am going to hold him to that promise.  He was able to come back to the Church and be embraced by the loving arms of Our Blessed Mother and Our Lord and Saviour.

Michael would not want us to stop living.  No this was a man who loved life and lived it to the fullest.  So as we continue to prepare for Christmas I am comforted that Michael will be there to truly celebrate.

We have loved him during life. Let us not abandon him, until we have conducted him by our prayers into the house of the Lord.  St. Ambrose

~Cindy