|We are all unique and amazing. With this notion bouncing around inside me I offer to the world what I have to share. The words inside my head have reached to overflowing and in an attempt to keep from exploding I have taken to writing. What follows is the result of purging my mind. If you like what you see, SUBSCRIBE at the top of the page.|
breathing againOct 1, 2018
Earlier this year I had begun to write about grief after the loss of far too many friends and family in very short period of time. I discovered it is one thing to intellectualize the process and yet another to experience. When my mother died suddenly on June 30 my writing slowed to a trickle. I still have a need to express myself through the written word, I simply could not make it happen. I continue to write my morning tweet poem using my mother's memory as fuel to push on. My head swims with so many words that need to be released from the cranial prison, yet my body and soul are not cooperating. Why? In the past when I wrote I would share it with my mother either first thing in the morning on our morning phone call or last thing at night when I walked the dog. Often she would praise the imagery that my words conjured in her. Sometimes she would not get the meaning at all yet would comment on word choices. I miss those moments of connection. I miss those moment of having someone who lovingly looked upon my work with compassion and appreciated that effort if not the aesthetic. Without my mother in the world I do not know that I will ever be understood. My head cheerleader and president of my fan club is no longer here. Even in middle age I am like many children in seeking the approval and support of a parent. I had that for so long a may have begun to take it for granted. And now it is gone. Now, 3 months after the great departure the tears have slowed, the waves of grief have more calm space between them. I can sit and breathe easier and see that someday maybe someday soon I will sit down and write again. First I will take a moment to breathe.
GriefSep 5, 2018
If you have been checking in for the musings or words of yours truly..... In short I have been debilitated by grief. Many may know that my mother Eva Forchion died unexpectedly on June 30, 2018. The two months that have followed this day have all blurred together. My morning call to my mother no longer happens. My evening call, when I walk the dog before going to bed, no longer happens. I no longer receive those whacky inspirational text messages from my mother or the blurry photos of her doing some odd thing or other no longer randomly pop up. Rationally I know that I am not the first to go through this. Yet this is just, wow. My children have been wonderful in sharing their process and helping with my process. My youngest noticed a tear rolling down my face and placed a compassionate hand on my forearm and said nothing. With each of my children we have share the smile of unknowing and long face of sadness as we each deal with death in our personal ways. I do know that my job is to keep living, right now that job is pretty hard.
Life is unpredictableJul 21, 2018
A little while ago i began writing about grief. I was writing about my discoveries on grief. The writings began with my the death of a close friend and how that death made me shudder, how that death made me re-think living. Not that I had any intention to stop living, I began to look at living very differently. Three weeks ago today my mother died suddenly thrusting me into a revisioning of living after the death of someone close. As I begin my writing will reflect the hole that is in my emotional being and what living with that hole is. Stay tuned as I dropped nuggets of this process.
Fables July 11thJul 17, 2018
Here is the recording of my story from the July 11 Fables storytelling night at Next Stage cafe in Putney, VT.
living lifeJul 16, 2018
My blog well has been dry recently. I have been busy living life in the aftermath of my mother's death. Life continues the same as it ever was, it is the living that has become hard. My mother was, one of if not, my best friend. We spoke on the phone daily and sometimes five or six times in a day. (there were many days like that) I continue to work. I continue to care for my children. I have a small hole in my heart where my mother, in her physical form, once was. I am at peace with her death. I am at peace with her life. I miss our conversations. I miss her intrusions, I miss her in my life, even though she is now more present in my life than she ever could have been in life, I miss the soul filled human that was her. I now set out to discover who I am without her here.
LifeJun 13, 2018
Life is neither easy nor hard it just is. It seems to be what it isn't when we imagine it to be other than what it is. Removing expectation allows Life to be what it is.