Silence

Within the silence

ones own thoughts

without a sound

of speech

I find my thoughts

are deeper than

what I could voice

outloud

To know

is to look

behind the words

Inbetween the lines

amoungst the

darkness

silence

In the shadows

all try to follow

only to get lost

once more

And there it is

In the blackness

between the stars

One's truths

be known.

I could see forever in your face

sometimes expressionless

through your own layers of

need and want.

~

I could feel forever in the slightest touch

sometimes unbearable

through my own layers of

fear and hurt.

~

I ran before the time was due

sometimes out of memories

through layer and layer

of bitter dusts

that blow away too soon.

~

A peeling of one's soul

opening with a caution blend

of stolen dreams

awoken

of bitterness

forever growing.

~

And try again and yet again

her pace forever gaining

of only layers

another layer

of restlessness unspoken.

Its amazing that no matter how old we become, we will still call out to our mothers. No matter how confused or forgetful in the later years, still, we will call out to our mother. She will always be the core of our hearts; our protection and safety net; what gives us hopes and dreams; who is always there for us long after all else leaves; failures or successes. And whether or not she is there in person be side us, truth be known, she is and will always be all of what she always been, safetly and forever in our hearts.

I know.

Soon, once again...

Just the other day, I placed my daffodil order as I do each year at this time. Its more than just giving to a wonderful cause though. It was what begin my mother's memory garden. The day of my mother's passing, and I returned home from the hospital, there on the table were these beautifully opened daffodils in a vase. I had ordered them weeks before and now, their brightness and hint of spring was before me in my darkest time. And placed into the vase with them was the single branch of pussywillows taken from her room before I left it. And so, her garden began.

Each year, I order daffodils and memories return as though it were just yesterday. Still, I'm not sure how but at the same time it seems forever in the past. As though a hundred years have gone by and time moves so slowly. I still have the pussy willow branch, and I have added another one each year since, in the spring time when they come to bloom in her garden, early spring. In March, at the anniversary time of our loss, there upon my table will sit in a vase, a bunch of daffodils and it will remind me that spring nears us. It's bulbs I will plant into her garden. And I'll watch memories come alive once again, as the last of the snows melt and the flowers beneath break ground.

Thoughts...

Every now and again,
take a good look at
something not made
with hands; a mountain,
a star, the turn of a stream.
There will come to you wisdom
and patience and solace and,
above all, the assurance that
you are not alone in the world.

Please click on and listen.....

End of Volume One.

I have written on this site for over three years. It started with one simple memory about 6 months after my mother had passed away and I grieved. I didn't know anything about these blogs; I had never heard of them. I don't really know why nor do I remember what brought me here to create one, but I did. And, that one simple memory of "Days Gone By", came out before me, word after word. That was my very first post. Since then, I haven't stopped writing here. One simple post became many. Grieving moved into the gift of remembering and the joys of sharing. It changed from only my presence here alone, to my sister's, and then outward to my family and friends beyond our town, beyond our state. And, it unfolded from sadness in grief and loss to the joys and celebrations of life. This site has truly been its own gift to myself; magically aiding in healing and moving forward.

I have printed every single page of this entire site and carefully placed each of those pages into plastic sleeves. These pages have filled a large three ring binder book, which is called, of course, The Beauty Of Life. To this point now, has been placed into it's covers and the binder is full now. This blog does not end. It begins now, Volume Two. I will start the next "book" to fill and what was once a gift to myself has truly resulted in a gift for many; hopefully lasting beyond a life time.

I need this place, this site, as much as I ever did. Its become a part of me over the past three years. I read back at times and I can't help but feel grateful that I had captured even a moment that I felt a need to put it here and would always have it to look back on moreso than memory alone. Sometimes, I have read back at certains writings and all the emotions of that time return to me and flood me once again and for that time, I need it to.

So at this point, I now begin volume two and move forward still. The beauty of life and the celebrations of it all. Please click on "comments" at the end of any post and add yours.

Just thoughts

I was looking at dates tonight, though I'm not sure why. My mother's birthday would soon, January 25th and she would of been 90 years old in just a couple of days. That seems so old and it doesn't seem possible. After all, she has only been gone 4 years now, come March. But, I looked into other dates. My father died when he was 63. My mother was only 56 years old at that time when she lost her husband. That is my age now. That doesn't seem old. In fact, now more than ever I see my Mother as a having been a young widow. She lost her husband when she was just my age. They had been married for 37 years when my father passed away. I've been married for 34 years (this year). She lived another 30 years after the loss of her husband. In seeing that clearly tonight, I came to realize that the ring which I wear around my neck, my mother's wedding ring, is 71 years old this year. I can remember my mother always saying that she wanted to live at least into the new century. She watched it turned; 2000. I remember us discussing the changes that we read on and she remembered, over the years into the new era. And now, its hard to believe that its already 2010.

I've been sitting here for the past two hours just reading back and I've scrolled all the way to the beginning. I'm so grateful that I started this blog, and started it exactly when I did. In this blog, I have so captured so much of life.