Goodbye to the Longest Night

As dawn arrives, I feel a sense of relief and gratitude that the longest night is over.

The birth of the sun brings a sense of hope that I will be brought out of the darkness that has enveloped me since July.

A peace is settling into my bones as I realize that I am in the right place and doing the right things and I've surrendered any ideas of perfection or of making a big impact out in the world. Newly sainted Mother Teresa said that if we want to bring peace to the world, we should start at home with our families. So, I do what I can in my little area, making things peaceful for my brother and for myself.

What a gift our Mother gave us. To be able to live here where we grew up. To have such solitude as I've faced the darkness has afforded insights that I couldn't have had otherwise. To rest in the darkness has been a blessing. To empty myself of the tears over and over. To wail and to moan with no worries of frightening others. To hug my brother and be Mom's advocate to him. Priceless, priceless gifts.

I am so thankful for this Solstice morning as I write this blog in the glow of candlelight with the dawn seeping through the blinds.

I pray that the Light fills you deeply and wholly.

Blessed Solstice.

Happy Mabon!

 I am feeling better. Finding the joy and peace in life. Sometimes I feel that Mom and Patrick come to me just when I need them. As family is coming to terms with this giant loss, they are able to come see us here, even though it is difficult for them. I respect and appreciate it.

 The weather has been perfect. Beautiful blue skies, big white fluffy clouds, leaves gently falling to the ground and squirrels scurrying around with big walnuts in their mouths.

 Have a wonderful first day of Autumn! May your day be filled with peace, joy and love.

Tonight I am grateful.

I am so grateful for friends who have reached out and family, too. I'm grateful that the routine is falling into place with Tony. I am grateful that he laughs when he gets ice cream and hugs and kisses. I know he misses Mom but he is adjusting and accepting me and I'm so grateful for that.

I am grateful for my sister friends who buoy me up when I feel I will sink into the depths of despair.

I am grateful for Dan who has been so understanding as I have mourned Patrick's death.

I am grateful that he will eventually join me here.

I am grateful that my kids are safe and happy.

I am so sorry that the two people in Roanoke died from a senseless temper tantrum and I'm sorry that their families and the whole world watched it happen and will have those moments etched in their minds. I am grateful that the woman being interviewed has survived being shot.

I am grateful that there is still time to love so many people in my life and to really know how important it is. More important than anything.

Do I wish I had really understood it earlier? Oh yes. Yes. But I suspect it is possible to get through life without realizing it so I'm grateful that I have and in time to show some amazing people how much I care and how awesome they are.

Yesterday, Friday August 21 2015, my Patrick texted a few friends, messaged me Goodbye and walked into the Gulf.

We were separated. I let him down. I gave up. I should have taken better care of him.

I don't see how I can ever be happy again.

You didn't have to do this Patrick. You didn't have to do this. Not this!

So many people love you. I love you.

I'm sorry Baby.

Today people will  be walking into my home and taking my things.

We listed stuff for sale on craigslist because we can't bring it with us. A woman called and will be taking the bunk beds and maybe a loveseat.

I am so sad. I know it's just stuff but it's stuff with memories attached. It's stuff that made up my home. I feel homeless.

This is mom's place. Her things. Her tastes. Her neighbors. Her flowers. Her yard.

I've worked so hard to turn our place into a home. Planted a herb garden, weeded and weeded and weeded, hauled furniture around, made curtains. You know, all the things you do. And now some stranger is going to be wandering around in there touching stuff that I will never get to see again.

I know I will get through this. Compared to putting my brother in some awful place, this is nothing. Only one of us could keep our home and I can adjust.

It's just that there is so much to adjust to.

My home in Roanoke was surrounded by people who loved me and whom I loved.

Okay. Time to stop whining. I just had to get it out of my head. I can't really afford to be angry. I need to get it out and move on. Things are what they are. There are worse circumstances out there for sure. A friend's mother had a stroke like my mom but she is dying a very slow death in the hospital while they wait. I'm so grateful that didn't happen. So, this is just what happened and I'm doing what has to be done.

Thank goodness for Dan. He has helped me keep my head. He's let me grieve. He's let me vent. And he just keeps on loving me.

I promise this blog will not always be so grim and sad. I'm grateful that I've had it as a place to get this out.

If you're reading this, thank you. Blessings.

I have been dealing with fatigue. There's a heaviness in my chest like you feel when you're sick, fevered, and it would not go away.

This morning I received a facebook message from the Education Coordinator from my beloved Montessori school. As I read her kind and loving words, I realized and faced the loss I was feeling. The floodgates opened and I truly let myself cry about this loss of my own life. And the heaviness is gone, I think.

I've been denying how much it hurts, as if it would somehow sully the proper grieving for my mom. But the fact is, I am mourning several huge losses all at once and they all hurt. Knowing that this coworker truly understood and truly cared allowed me to really dig into it and release some of the built-up energy. I can finally take a deep breath.

Today may just be a better day.

Loss

On July 28, 2015 I lost my mother. Then I left my job, my home, my friends, my beloved Roanoke and moved back to my childhood home to care for my profoundly mentally disabled brother. I know in my bones that it is the right thing to do and I have a sense of peace about it. However, the losses are felt more deeply every day.

Dan had to stay behind. He will be letting go of his house to move here with me. He has been a rock for me and I miss him so much.

It is very lonely here. If not for Tony's homemaker, who just happens to be my cousin, I would have had a very difficult time figuring things out. I am so grateful for her.

In time I will make friends, I know, and perhaps reconnect with old friends and family but for now I feel very alone.

I've never suffered a loss as devastating as the loss of my beautiful mother. I have never felt this kind of grief. I keep having to google to make sure that what I'm feeling is normal. It's so physical. I'm exhausted.

I know one day I will have an easier time. I hope to share those times here. Perhaps this will help someone else who will be going through a mourning period.