live mindfully

My dauther and her family will be moving out of my home at the end of the month (if all goes as expected). All in all they will have been with me for about 3 months. It was not all fun and games, though everyone behaved very well, with them respecting the fact that they were in my house and me respecting their privacy and needs. I was well aware, at the times I had to bite my tongue, at the times I chafed under my own lack of privacy, that this was temporary and that when they were gone I would miss them. I think the whole experience has brought us all together.

It is exactly 2 years since Mom died. I realized that my granbeanie has now lived longer without Mom than with her. That will never happen to me. I would have to live to almost 120 to say that. Sigh.
Today I light no candles, place no flowers; I do all the usual things. I will go to the grocery store, do some laundry, work on my pottery. But I will remember Mom. I will always remember Mom.

Made it through the weekend. He yelped climbing up my 3 steps but has quieted down some from last week. He’s weaker, that much is clear, but he’s still with me.

This is the second anniversary of the worst week of my life: my Mom’s last days. It hits me in waves and knocks me for a loop each time. It was so hard. And though I know it is over, recalling it just renews the pain.

I’m tired. Just exhausted from work, worry and grief. I need some studio time but that’s not happening. I have to garden all day tomorrow at work, that and run around getting things we’ll need.

I try to be aware of what I’m doing, how I’m feeling, what’s going on with me, but sometimes I don’t want to be mindful. I just want to turn off my brain.

When I first got Black Jack his mate was with him. She was quite ill and died within days. I buried her out near my studio. Her name was Buttermilk and she was a sweet, sweet dog who deserved a much better life than she led, having puppies with every heat, having to compete for her food with so many other dogs and finally the heart worms that killed her.

Today Black Jack followed me outside and plopped himself down in the dirt outside my studio. I left the door open and he just lay in the shade looking out at the yard. Twice though, he pushed his way through the bamboo to the spot where I buried Buttermilk and sniffed around. He’s never done that before. I know he enjoyed being outside. Finally he signaled that he wanted to come in. So we did.

I’m not great company right now but I told my SO I’d go to a concert with him tonight. I so don’t feel like it.

My younger daughter is gone again – home to Arizona. It was a lovely visit, over too soon, but there it is. My heart aches for my older girl. The house fire thing has stressed her to her breaking point. Her husband’s way of handling this is to organize, work, control. She needs for him to be a little less spot-on organized and a little more arm-around-the-shoulders comforting. The message she gets, (I hear it, too), is “You’re not handling this right.” The message she needs is, “We’re in this together.”

And I don’t want to meddle but it is hard to watch.

We’ve spent all day playing with the granbeanie, planning meals, food shopping and just hanging out. I love it. We’re all tired since my daughter didn’t arrive until after midnight, but our low-key day is working well.

We saw what my other daughter’s house looks like once stripped. Oh! It’s amazing the ceiling didn’t collapse on them. The whole ceiling is gone and the supports are all black. The front wall is gone and everything around the fireplace is scorched, even the brick. I frankly can’t believe the place can be rebuilt. Only the bedrooms and bathroom are undamaged and even there, the roof is gone. Geez Louise. 15-20 minutes of fire did this. Another 10 and there would be nothing left at all.

As we ate lunch out I was mindful that with all I have lost over the last few years I still have the best stuff – my two daughters and granbeanie. My poor friend who lost her son to suicide two weeks ago was much in mind today.

The funeral was the saddest event I have ever attended. When my friend saw me we hugged and she just cried and cried. Then I drove home and the kids took off for the night. The granbeanie is a little sick so she coughed her way through dinner until she threw up. Nothing like pizza vomit after a hard day.

Lost her son to suicide yesterday. He was in his 30s and had been fighting alcoholism since he was a teen. Her husband found him. He had hanged himself. She always knew this was a possibility. It was the dreaded ax hung over her head. Yesterday it fell.

I’ve talked to her and she is in massive pain. So I just beseech anyone reading this to spare your loved ones this pain. Get help, get relief, but please do not do this terrible thing. Transferring your pain to those who love you is so unfair. If you have a parent or a child in this world do anything else, but don’t do this.

I now must learn to value the minutes I have alone. Tomorrow I go back to work full time (okay, so it’s not a real job pay-wise but it is time-wise) and I have my family around me full-time as well. But right this minute, everyone is gone somewhere and it’s just me and BJ in a quiet house. By lunch everyone will return.

If we give something our attention, we rest our creativity on it…
If we put our attention on the wrong things, they steal our energy and leave us impotent while pouring unsavory experiences into our lives.