I am feeling out of sorts. But in an understandable way I guess. And, I will imagine there will be many ones to follow was well. I don't know what a blog should be. And I have been spurratic with this at best. I seem to come here when feelings are big. I read my friend Tammy's blog today, and I think I needed to put thoughts to pen, and pen to paper. or thoughts to keyboard, and keyboard to computer screen. Technology. Amazing. But that's another subject all together.
So anyway, my friend Tammy just wrote about her dog in her blog. Her dog who died a year ago. She posted a poem she'd written at his death. It was beautiful. It made my cry and the grief of my cat Sachie's death come erupting up through my heart all over again. It's so hard to lose a beloved pet who has become so important to you.
After reading her entry, I came back to my blog wondering how long it had been since I'd written anything. I hadn't remembered writing anything about Sachie ...or about my Father. Time speeds along at a breakneck pace sometimes. Especially when you aren't looking. I haven't been looking. I've been numb for months now. I haven't written anything since July. That was even before my Father died. My Father died at the beginning of August. That was such a difficult time. It is still difficult. I guess it will always be difficult ...but I hope and pray it will not be THIS difficult forever. My friend Lois, her best friend in the whole world died recently too ...died way too soon. So much death and other loss this last Summer and Fall. I will be glad when Winter comes, or at least the first snow, something to mark that season of loss as over. I know new losses will come. But I guess I want some time for a fresh breath.
I am going to a grief class at church that Lois told me about. It's really helpful. They talked about how the first year is so extra hard. You have to live your loss over and over and over again as you go through the "First" everything. One thing for Tammy was how much her dog loved the snow, and how this would be the first snow since his passing. For me Memorial day about killed me. I used to call my dad every Memorial Day. A special little tradition we stumbled into. I knew it was important to me, but it wasn't until this Memorial Day I knew how important it had been to him as well. I'd called my mom and told her how much I was missing Dad that day. She told me that each Memorial Day when the phone would ring he'd smile and say, "That must be Cathy!" And it would be! He looked forward to it each Memorial Day as much as I did. It was very important to him, she said. I can't even begin to tell you what a GIFT she gave me in sharing that with me. That's a comfort I will hold in my heart always.
This Thanksgiving was going to be a "just us" Thanksgiving. We all hate those. We love each other to be sure. But we see each other everyday. We are people who love to give/show hospitality. And not just to each family member, but to other people as well. It's who we are as a family. We love to serve people. Holidays can be such a special time of giving. But this Thanksgiving, the first without my dad, I didn't want to face one of those, "Just us" Thanksgiving. When you are hurting it feels good to minister to others, or have others minister to you. But since there was no one who could come here, nor were we invited to go somewhere else, I just sort of shut down. Thanksgiving simply felt too big for me this year.
So this year we did something different. We went out for Thanksgiving. We were going to go to Golden Coral because that would feel the most like Thanksgiving. But I guess a lot of other people had the same idea we had. The line was sooo long, we decided against it. We drove over to Denny's instead. The opposite was true. There was almost no one there. It wasn't filled with that usual happy hum of people. It was just ...quiet. I missed my dad who is in Heaven. I missed my mom too. We all missed Beth. But, my mom was with my sister Susan's family and my brother Michael in California. I knew she was happy in Susan's wonderful home there. And Beth was having a good time with James and his family ...which took at least some of the sting out of her missing spot as the table.
At Denny's Rob, John, and I each had the Turkey dinner. It was quite good. Robbie had breakfast, and Maria had Macaroni & Cheese. Not exactly traditional Thanksgiving food. But they were extra thankful for it, so that's all that really mattered. It was a quiet but pleasant time together. And when we got home, despite missing Beth & my mom and dad, I decided I was up to making pie. My dad LOVED pie. Beth loved my apple pie. So in honor of Beth I made apple pie ...and happy memories came to mind. In honor of my dad I made mincemeat, which was followed by more happy memories ...and some bitter sweet ones ...not unlike the mincemeat. I also made a pumpkin pie because it felt like happy childhood memories. In honor of my Grandma Elsie Lyon ...another person I miss so deeply, I got out the can of RediWhip. There was a whole other set of happy memories there (Even if I hadn't made lime Jell-O that day). They were welcomed, those happy memories. Besides, everyone knows that homemade pie is the best part of Thanksgiving anyway, right? In the end the, "just us" Thanksgiving passed quietly. And while there was pain, there was not as much as I feared. Much of that had to do with my understanding husband Rob who let me say, "I can't do this this year!" He let me say it and didn't make me feel guilty or badly in any way. He heard my words, understood them AND me, hugged me, and helped me make nontraditional plans as a family.
At Thanksgiving people sometimes say what they are most thankful for. Robbie, Maria & I were talking about that. Robbie said he was most thankful for his sister Beth. Maria said she was most thankful for her best friend Kathy. For me, I said I most thankful for Rob, and for many reasons. Right now I am so thankful for Rob that he gives me a safe place to fall. And how he reaches for my hand, and helps me stand up again.
So now I have gotten through my first Memorial Day and first Thanksgiving. Two down ...and so many more to go. Well, one day ...especially one holiday at a time. The first snow will come and spread it's fresh blanket of white and beautiful loveliness all over everything. I will take a breath and I will start fresh. I will take each memory, each holiday, each "first" in this first year after my dad's death with a thankful heart. Or TRY to anyway. Because as silly as it might sound, I am finally really understanding that old, "'Tis better to have loved and lost, than to never loved at all." And I am thinking that maybe thankfulness is a healing thing, too. I don't know how well I might have believed it in the past. But I believe that with all my heart now.
