Friendship and Death

It has been a very long, very sad, very difficult week. I've been wanting to write but there are no words to express these feelings. How I wish I could find words when I need them, and how I envy people who can weave words together to express their feelings. What a relief that could be.

My friend's 15 year old son took his life last week. The funeral was this Tuesday.

Disbelief. I just dreamed this. It isn't true. It can't be.

Horror. Horror that this could really happen.

Despair. This can't really happen. Nothing is right.

Helplessness. Couldn't something have been done? What went wrong? This needs to be fixed. But it's too late.

Anger. If he had waited 24 hours, he might have felt differently. A day, a few words, some comfort can make such a difference.

Incredible sadness and heartache.

One thing, among many - besides the fact that this was a young man taking his own life, that makes this so sad for me is the friendship I had with his mother mad fallen apart. And this reminds me of a friend who died last summer. Just a few years older than me. Another friendship that had fallen apart.

Am I a bad friend? I don't really think so. But I admit I have fragile outer shell. I'm weak. There are friendships that take so much energy and such a strong personality that I don't feel up to the task. I have, also, fought tooth and nail to keep a friendship together only to feel deeply betrayed so my defenses go up and I'm very hesitant. My family is my world, my religion, and I cannot tolerate them be dissected and criticized no matter what the other person's needs might be. I need peace, calm, stability. Fighting, discontent, upheavals, anger, harsh words destroy my peace and calm. And so... I ended the friendship. No words; I just disappeared from her life. I'm good at disappearing.

But the flip side of ending a friendship is the feeling helplessness at a time like this. At the funeral I hugged her, told her I was so very, very sorry for their loss, that I was holding her in my heart, that I loved her. It is all very true. My heart has ached every day for their loss. There has been no other death - not even my parents - that has affected me this deeply. I want to offer something, but I don't know how. Mentally I have drawn a circle of love around them - from a distance; mentally I hug them; mentally I send them my feelings.

But it doesn't feel enough. I know it's inadequate. I just feel guilty. My punishment for ending a friendship, and my punishment for not wanting to resurrect that friendship in a real life way. Maybe I just make a better spiritual friend than I do a real life one.

At This Moment

I am eating a salad with romaine, spinach, feta cheese, blueberries, walnuts, and homemade vinaigrette - all from Costco! While I sit here eating my salad, I dream of the day that the lettuce and spinach at least will come straight from my garden along with a cuke and tomatoes. Still, it tasted good and filled my need for fresh.

Spring seems so distant right now: the sky is dark and ominous looking, it's been raining off and on. Yesterday felt like spring; today feels like winter exerting her power before she is forced into hibernation.

They are tearing up the road in front of our house to install sewer lines. Actually, not directly in front of our house yet; they are working down the street a ways but soon it will be in front of my home. Huge trailers, back hoes, tractors, and NOISE. Along with the fact that I'm not sure if we'll be able to get out of driveway.

My oldest is asleep on the couch - after spending the afternoon braiding her little sister's hair. Little teeny, tiny braids. And she has a head full of hair. She has to work tonight so she's trying to catch a nap before leaving.

My other daughter is having car trouble among other troubles. The stressful life of an adult. I wish it weren't.

My darling husband was so cranky yesterday. Today he apologized. Right now he is napping.

I'm trying to find something uplifting about today... I'm still thinking... Oh, I read from The Willows in Winter for about 45 minutes and drank tea. In fact, I think I will go read my latest No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency book. That is always uplifting.

More Sunday Thoughts

Another Sunday. I have many, many thoughts but can't quite find the words right now so they will remain unsaid.

It has been a very special Sunday. It started with my oldest daughter calling to ask if her father and I would like to join her and her sister for breakfast. Of course. We had a delightful time. Not something we get to do very often - spend time alone with our oldest two without our youngest three around.

On another note, my kitchen smells wonderfully homey with cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves; two loaves of pumpkin bread is baking. I shall have a couple slices with some Constant Comment tea. A very nice way to end a very nice Sunday.

And now I leave you with this.

Sunday Thoughts

Some thoughts to ponder this Sunday

Small Pleasures

We woke this morning to find the ground covered in white. More than a skiff, enough to make some tracks and throw a few snowballs. Certainly not enough to make a really decent snowperson, but enough to have some awesome fun.

So when presented with a choice between starting school on time or playing in what will most likely be the last snow of the season, what do you think we chose?

I am thankful that we can grab these opportunities when they appear. Grab the moment and live.

More Illnesses

The illness that came to visit hubby over Super Bowl weekend decided to linger. It had found a house full of willing hosts. My children. Abra first, Abby second, and last, but not least B.G. From oldest to youngest. Please note, the mother was excluded, again, as usual. All of them ran fevers, ached, and developed a nasty, nasty cough. I hate to see my children sick and miserable. I brought them blankets and pillows, snuggled them up on the couch or lazy boy, brought them tea, took their temps often so they could keep track, and watched movies.

Of all of them, it is hardest for me to see Abby sick. It's heartbreaking. To understand this, one must know the child. She is ALIVE. She is DRAMA. Life exudes from her every pore. And most especially from her eyes. From the moment her feet hit the floor in the morning until her little motor finally, finally runs down at night, this child is LIVING HUGELY. And when she is sick, the LIFE is gone. The pure spirit and life that comes out of her eyes is totally missing. Dull, listless, glazed. The only thing that keeps my heart from totally breaking is the fact that she will snuggle with me when she is sick. She does not snuggle. Very primp and proper hugs and few purrs, and that's it. But when she is sick, she actually snuggles her whole body up next to mine. That is a gift to be forever treasure.

This morning I was asking what they all wanted for breakfast. I heard Abby's voice answering: pancakes, an omelet, waffles with extra whipped cream and strawberries, a smoothie with a swirly straw, and candy. Before I even turned around I knew what I would see. LIFE! BIG HUGE LIFE. She's on the mend. Except for that damned cough. She's is back with the living, keeping us in smiles.

Super Bowl Sunday

The Groundhog predicted an early spring, and the last few days were proving that fortune teller correct. I spent some extra time cuddled up in my favorite chair, daydreaming, and I could feel the warm dirt in my fingers and smell that wonderful warm, earthy, musty garden smell. The weight on my shoulders felt infinitely lighter, and my family was rewarded with more smiles and laughs.

Then today dawned grey, overcast, and dreary, and with that the weight is back. My morning smile was replaced with morning grouchiness, and instead of laughing, I found everything coming out of my mouth rather snitful. I am going to put on shoes and jacket, and go outside to face this dreary day head on. I will find something beautiful and hopeful in it, and I will bring that hope back inside.

Tim seems to have come down with the flu. His body aches, he feels congested and tired and is napping. The girls have been having a Get Smart marathon. I had to ask them to go upstairs and try to tone down the laughter since their dad was sleeping. You should have seen the look they gave me. Obviously watching Get Smart without riotous and very loud laughter isn't possible. They are giving it their best shot, though.

Nachos and beer is a tradition for Super Bowl Sunday although it appears Tim might not be joining in. Might just be the girls and me. Hmmmm..... no. If there's anything that will get that man out of bed (other than work) it's football. We'll just quarantine him to one side of the room.

Now I'm off to face my enemy, the dreary sky.