lunadelcorvo: (Halloween Samhain)
I can scarcely believe that it is here so soon, but once again, the wheel turns, the days grow short, the light grows golden, and the veil grows thin. I know, the time one considered the new year is somewhat arbitrary - calendar, season, how to mark it? Samhain has always seemed to make the most sense to me. As we cross the divide between autumn into winter, as crops die back, and the night overmatches day, we enter a liminal time. With the verdancy of summer past, and the slow and thoughtful reawakening of Yule yet ahead, it is a fallow time, though not an empty one. It is a time to turn inwards, to recall, to reevaluate, to look back and tally what we have done over the living, growing months. With such reflection comes adjustment, planning, and in the months ahead the future begins to take shape in our thoughts, out intentions, so that when the balance shifts and the nights shrink again, we are ready to birth something new.

Yes, I'm thinking a lot about Mom today (as always), and I will light a candle for her this evening. But so far I am remembering her with smiles and good memories more than tears. (Honestly, I think Christmas will be the hardest time to get through since her loss.) For now, she's with me, a voice in my memory, especially as I get the niblet's costume finished. (She always seems to come around when I get crafty; she's the one who taught me so much and got me started on the arty/crafty side of things! I swear she was about while I was helping with the first-ever 'school project diorama' too!) Costume pics soon, but I can tell you, this year's costume was all his idea, and...well, it's a blast!

I hope all of you are having a ghoulishly good day, and I wish you all a Happy Halloween & Blessed Samhain.
lunadelcorvo: (Summer Violets)
To all those moms out there, I hope you had a happy Mother's Day, and I hope you got even a fraction of the recognition you deserve! And to my mom: I miss you, and I feel your loss every day, but I'm doing well. I'm proud of what I'm doing lately, and I am proud of how much of that comes from you. I hope you are proud of me, and I know you're proud of your grandson. Peace.

Mother's Day was lovely - my two gentlemen took very good care of me! From the Niblet I got a book on home repairs (100 Things You Don't Need a Man For) and a keychain that looks like a grenade, but opens up into a screwdriver with 6 different bits. (Man, I have an awesome kid!) Hubby, not to be outdone (and in addition to financing Niblet's choices, after all), gave me a nifty novel and a really fascinating book on contemporary Christian martyrdom.... We also went out for desserts (chocolate chess pie with mocha chip ice cream, yum!) and the in-laws gave me a gorgeous rosebush for the house. (Now where to put it....)

Otherwise, I am Gardening Mamma! more garden related stuff under the fold )

For now, off to the garden center! Whee!
lunadelcorvo: (Lend me Grace)
I saw this on Post Secret today.

Just the other day I was struck by how often my mom would call. She'd call me over a dozen times a week, and every message started the same way: "Hey, hun. It's me. Just want to say hi."

Don't get me wrong, I talked to her almost every day; she just seemed to have some kind of radar for calling when I was in class, the shower, or something. So I'd usually delete the messages at "Hey, hun...." Not because I didn't care, but because I'd most likely already talked to her since she left it, or I was about to call her anyway, and I knew she'd prefer to tell me whatever herself.

God I wish I'd kept even one of those messages. I'll never hear that "Hey, hun..." again.
lunadelcorvo: (Backward Glance)
Well, I went and cleared out Mom's things Thursday. I'm not sure which was hardest: being there surrounded by her things and her presence, all the people who stopped in with hugs and condolences (my Mom was clearly very well-loved there), or the odd person who stopped in who didn't know, and asked where she was.

Thing is, she was SO looking forward to moving into the new facility, and it is gorgeous. When I took her to the open house, I literally cried, I was so happy she'd get to live in such a beautiful environment. The bitter irony? Her wing was moving over there the very day I was there boxing up her things. Those that didn't know she was gone assumed I was helping her to move over, and kept asking if she was happy and excited. Ouch.

Her memorial is Monday, and my family will be there, and I know many of the residents and staff will be too. I asked for it not to be heavily religious, but more about sharing memories. It's going to be really hard, but it's part of healing. I'm giving my son the day off school, too. I think it will help him in the long run to see how she was loved, and hear how important he was to her.

So, slowly, life goes on. I still fall apart sometimes, usually when I least expect it, of course, but it's getting better. Time, time, time. It's just going to take time. Well, maybe the occasional stiff drink, but mostly time....
lunadelcorvo: (Default)
My mom is gone. She passed this morning in her sleep. The doctor started her on stronger pain meds and steroids, hoping to help her feel better for a while. She didn't respond well, and when I went to see her yesterday, she was very drowsy and had not eaten. I spoke with the doctor yesterday evening, and we were to meet with Mom today, and try some different things to keep her comfortable. The doc said we were likely looking at a couple weeks, not the couple months we had hoped.

My mom was happy to see me yesterday, and she thanked me for being with her. I made her laugh a little, and I had brought her a t-shirt from the university where I'm teaching. I thought it would make her proud to tell folks that's where her daughter was teaching. She kept dozing, fading in and out, and when I left, I told her to sleep, to just rest and not worry. I suppose she did just that.

The nurses never saw any signs, they said when they went to check on her, they thought she was sleeping peacefully and were happy to see it, but she was already gone. I'm glad for her, really, though I wish she'd been able to get into her new room, see the spring, tell my son goodbye, things like that. Funny thing; I couldn't sleep last night, and I sat up thinking of all the things I wanted to be sure to tell her today, in case. I don't really believe in this sort of thing, but I kind of hope she heard me.

Judith Anne b. March 22, 1942 d. January 25, 2011
You were always stronger than you looked.
lunadelcorvo: (I'm going to write can't help it)
I'm putting this here as much for me as for anyone else. It's long and awful, and I don't expect anyone to want to read it. I just...needed to put it here, because it's part of my story, ya know?

The whole story about my Mom... )



Things I need to remember:
• Asking for help is not, as it turns out, fatal.
• Laughing is easier than pulling your hair out, and doesn't have the unfortunate side effect of making you look like a plague victim.
• Even the biggest tasks can be defeated if taken a bit at a time.
• I can write a paper the night before it's due, but the results are not all they could be.
• Be thorough, but focused.
• Trust yourself.
• Honesty, always.

Historians are the Cassandras of the Humanities



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