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The price we pay

I’ve been absent, that much I know:  1 post in August, another in September.

I used to write almost daily. What happened?

I’d like to say life happened but that’s just not true.

Yes we’re busy.  Busy-busy-busy.  I am so sick of the word busy.

The truth is harder to admit out loud:  I. Miss. Her.

It’s been a year+ since she left.  It was time and believe me when I say I don’t want her to come back for things to be how they were in the end.

Just last week a colleague’s mother passed away and the grief paid a visit. A Tsunami wave of it so strong and deep I nearly lost my footing.

So many of my stories, experiences and thoughts have her intertwined throughout.

But.  She wouldn’t want this. She would not want this for me at all.

She would set her mouth in a firm way, frown and tell me, “it’s time.  You have to carry on.”

And so I do. I try.

Some days  are better than others.

Some days I forget to think of her.

Other days I dial into conference calls and try not to shout out loud “OH FOR CRYIN’ OUT LOUD!” like she would have been tempted to had  she been there.

Some days I move around as though nothing happened.  As though the void of her passing wasn’t there.

Other days I prep the coffee maker to wake up and find I never added … water or coffee.

Some days.

Some days I laugh and chat with my sister and a memory makes us both giggle then gasp back tears, all at once.

Other days I can engage with humanity as though nothing happened.   Like the wound isn’t still gaping.

There’s a lesson for me here:  Grief has no timeline.

It’s real and raw and it’s why I haven’t even thought about writing.

Because to write now is writing in a world without her in it.

All that she was and all that she shared and encouraged in me – a love of reading and writing, of good books, breaking news, meandering conversations, being still and quiet,  political nuances, singing along to songs worth singing to, Sunday supper on the stove, and a home tidied with things in their place  – all that I love to do and 5 million more – are because of her.

God, I miss her.

  * * *

“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.”
― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

 

This song was one of her favorites ~ and it echoed one of her favorite Bible verses.  Sing with me will you?

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Categories: Attitude, Blogging, Determination, Faith, Family, Grief, Growth, Love, Mom, Personal, Relationships, Thoughts, Wisdom, Women | Tags: , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

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8 thoughts on “The price we pay

  1. You’re right: she would want you to carry on. Often times, I think about the comments on my blog, and I miss my sister’s and my cousin, Lona’s. Many of the bloggers I knew in the beginning have stopped blogging (and therefore stopped visiting and commenting) and that’s okay. But I often wonder what June and Lona would have to say about a post…???
    Thinking of you, my friend!

    • I can hear her voice in yours, Dianna! And I know what you mean about missing their comments and input ~ I think that’s what I miss most about her – our meandering conversations. Even as she grew more frail she was still “with it” – our last conversation was politically-centric, which we both loved. She was the one person whose opinion always mattered to me ~ and, like you, I often wonder her take on things. Thank you for your kind words. MJ

  2. MJ, Big virtual hug from an almost non hugging farmboy. Believe it or not, I was thinking about your mom the other day..almost dropped you a note to let you know, but I thought you’d probably think I was slightly wonked. Your stories about her over the years made me think I would have loved to visit with her. Grief is a highly personal and varied experience. The closer you are to someone the more intense it is..and how you describe the ebb and flow is spot on…it comes in waves, the intensity and frequency varies… Heck, I still miss my grandma even after 18 years. Write when you feel like it. DM

    • aww thank you so much, I know you are not a huggy type, you’ve written about that before – so you to offer that is pretty special 😉 I love that you got to know her through my stories of her and our adventures; she would have loved knowing you, too, and she would have been SO intrigued by your orchards, learning about them and listening intently. She was a very interesting person — both because she had a natural curiosity about the world — but bc she was an ardent learner, listener and reader ~ she made others feel comfortable enough to relax, be themselves and tell their stories.

      Her estate was recently settled and that was a milestone I hadn’t anticipated –because it all feels so final now. I shall miss her always. That’s the part I am learning to accept as my new reality.

      thank you for your kindness, it is appreciated, Farmboy!

      MJ

  3. No one told us about “this part” of growing up. I feel ya , MJ.
    R

    • Truth. There are days that I excel at Adulting and others when I want to saddle up my pony and ride away from it all … that pony is long gone but the thought is still enticing.

      thank you, MJ

  4. Oh, how I understand. My story is different, by I understand how grief weaves its way into the days. For me it’s a combination of the loss of Dad, and then my bestie less than a year later. And it’s the daily dread of watching Mom slowly fade from the life she once knew. Some days it’s hard to keep my chin up. I wonder when normal will return, and I realize the normal I miss is gone forever. But in the back of my mind, I hope somewhere in the future, normal will be a bit easier again.

    No wonder its so hard to sit down at the computer and write like we used to! I hope you do again. Your stories always made me smile from the inside out and I miss keeping up with you and so many others. I hope I write again like I used to as well. One of these days, I know I will. Just need less “busy” and more time.

    Hugs to you, my dear friend!

    • We are walking a similar road, my friend. Hugs to you ~ I was glad to see you writing recently, and I’ll take DM’s advice to “write when I feel like it” — I’ll share that wisdom with you, too. Bests, MJ

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