Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Green scales fall like rain

I'm leaving here tomorrow, flying or running but it's definitely going away. I want to be brave, I do, but I don't know how to do that and still be here on Thursday. I'm learning so much lately, learning the truth, the strength, the sorrow, learning how to grieve and how to accept. And let me tell you, there's a lot of road between the two. I'm learning how to handle myself when I'm sad, learning the steps to take, the pauses really, in order not to blame myself and not to harm myself.

I'm learning how to live the change between being a member of a family, a daughter, and becoming the family leader, to be the one who picks up the broken pieces of what once was a whole family, glue those pieces together and say, This is what we have and we will stick together and I will never ever leave you. And asking them to believe that even though every other adult in their life has failed that, if only in death. I'm learning to provide the answers to questions without having anyone to guide those answers, learning to heal the sorrow, listen to the fears, guide the path, fill the needs, write the checks, wring my hands and pray and hope every single night. I'm learning to do this on my own. I'm learning that some people drop out because they have to and some drop out for reasons I'll never understand. I'm learning that no matter the reasons, when you're left alone, you're alone.

I'm learning about who I am and who I was and who I can be, learning how to accept what I feel and not apologize or feel guilty for those feelings. Or my thoughts. Or my behavior.

Tomorrow I catch a flight to London for two weeks. Last Thanksgiving I spent the afternoon bedside by my mother, spoon feeding her turkey and dressing, giving sips of champagne through a straw. It was the last time she told me she loved me. I love you Alison. She concentrated on the words, it took enormous energy and concentration for her to speak, but she succeeded. I love you Alison.

The girl is with her boyfriend and the boy is doing his thing and that leaves me in a meadow between here and there but wide open and not at all comfortable. So I'm going to a place I've been before, a place I brought Mom for my 39th birthday, a place my grandmother took my mother when she turned 40. A place where I'll stand on steps where we stood together, walk a path we walked, see sights my mother pointed to me from atop a tourist bus. A place where I can walk the streets anonymously and maybe, just maybe, start crying. What a release the tears.

I was standing by my window,
On one cold and cloudy day
When I saw that hearse come rolling
For to carry my mother away

Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, Lord, by and by
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky

I said to that undertaker
Undertaker please drive slow
For this lady you are carrying
Lord, I hate to see here go

Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, Lord, by and by
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky

Oh, I followed close behind him
Tried to hold up and be brave
But I could not hide my sorrow
When they laid her in the grave

Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, Lord, by and by
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky

I went back home, my home was lonesome
Missed my mother, she was gone
All of my brothers, sisters crying
What a home so sad and lone

Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, Lord, by and by
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky

We sang the songs of childhood
Hymns of faith that made us strong
Ones that mother Maybelle taught us
Hear the angels sing along

Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, Lord, by and by
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky

Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, Lord, by and by
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky


Will the Circle be Unbroken?
Unknown

2 comments:

CreekHiker said...

Oh Alison, I'm sobbing reading this! Thinking of the pain you must feel and being in such horrible pain that I called my 86 year old mother at 2:30 am just to hear her voice.

As many troubles as we have, I'm so so grateful that she's a phone call away.

I'm so sorry for the grief I know you are in and I hope you have a wonderful time in London.

maxngabbie said...

Baby steps Alison, baby steps.
And know you are never alone.