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Greetings everyone. I haven’t any new photos to share since my life consists of working on novel 3, teaching, cleaning, and walking the dog. All is well, and I do hope to return to blogging regularly in the near future.
Here’s a shot from the past where I did go somewhere interesting. This is the stairwell to our group’s hotel in Barcelona. I love stairwells, don’t you?
Mom would frown and shake her head. “Good, God, stop crying. I wasn’t a saint, you know.”
Grief is a heavy activity. Doing one’s best not to cry is hard to do. Talking about it is exhausting. The permanence of her departure is a rock that’s heavy to carry. Just when a few days go by when I am not overcome with emotion, I start to relax. Then, boom! Triggers abound, and I am weeping in the car before heading into the grocers, or I am about to enter a room full of people. On goes the smile and I am ready to explain the puffy eyes and red nose as the result of a bad attack of allergies.
Last week before the students and staff arrived, I walked down the wide, dark hallway of the school searching for hot water for my cup of tea. Out of nowhere, Mom’s face appeared sharply in front of me. Was I hallucinating? I was back at her side, patting her hand while she breathed heavily. I looked at her and her eye opened and stared at me. It was freaky to see her staring eye. Did she know it was me? I talked to her anyway, hoping she could hear. “Jenny washed you, Mom. You’re clean. You won! You are here in your home and we love you. We’ll be okay.” And just like that, she faded away and her eye turned to stone. In the dark hallway, I burst into tears and rushed back to my classroom muttering, “It’s going to be one of those days.”
Well, of course, none of us are okay, but we’ll adapt. I take comfort in knowing she’s in a better place. I believe that.
I don’t know about you, but when I’m overwhelmed, I always want to run away from home. So Jim and I did. I know God’s in nature as well as the church, and the colors and smells of nature is a place I go to connect and regroup. At Vallecito Lake, I saw Mom in what she loved about nature.
The 15th was her birthday. I was glad to share the fall day with Mom surrounded by the beauty of Colorado. My gift to her was not crying. I felt lighter. I didn’t feel pain. She would have approved.
Counting down the days until we head to the Colorado Rockies for some quiet time at a lake cabin. Last time Jim and I went to the San Juan National Forest just north of Durango, we camped outside of Telluride. This time we are trying out Vallecito Lake. There’s giant Pike lurking in the depths, and Jim wants to catch one. I remember as a girl living in Northern Wisconsin; I was awestruck by fishermen coming to shore to clean their catch. With monstrous teeth in a wide mouth, and its length at 1 meter (3 and some feet), Pikes are predators and scavengers. Let him fish. I’m kayaking and taking pictures of Aspen trees. Stay tuned!
Cindy Bruchman 