Thursday, March 15, 2007

Toughest Week

This is absolutely the roughest week of the year for me.

March 8Th marked the seventh anniversary of my father's passing, and the 15Th marks the sixth anniversary for my maternal grandmother's passing.

I cannot stop crying today.

I was a daddy's girl. Daddy was the person who always encouraged my curiosity and creativity. He is forever with me in so many ways. We were very close, until I came out. We spent the last years of his life locked in a horrible battle. I had decided before coming out that I could live without whomever did not accept me. I never thought it would be him. I missed him before he passed, but at least I could see him before. Even now I will think 'I bet Daddy would know...' before it hits me that I cannot ask him anything. We cannot talk about jazz or golf, old westerns, sci-fi movies, or football. I cannot ask him how old I was when he took me to the park to make snow angels just because the snow was fresh and I had never done it before. The day he passed, I had been in my art room all day (and the day before). I could not shake the thought that I had wasted the last days of Daddy's life painting. No wonder I have been blocked since.

I have said this before. My grandmother was the reason that I knew I was loved as a child. Not that my parents did not love me; She was just different. Mama was the first person I ever knew to 'walk' their faith. By that I mean that her faith was not just at church on Sunday, often she was too ill to go. Her faith was in her words, her touch, her cooking, her love and devotion to her children and grandchildren, her garden and plants. No, she was not a bible thumper. She simply had a faith that was as comfortable as your favorite pair of jeans. I hope that makes sense. When she talked, you knew her words of faith were from having lived it, not because she was reciting what she read or was told. When she was sick and we knew she was passing. I thanked her for everything that she had taught me. I thanked her for everything she was. I thanked her for showing me that she loved me. I told her that she did not have to hold on for us because we were OK; she had taught us to live well.

I literally ache for her still. Often, especially lately, I wonder if I will ever find a place to lay my head that was as safe as she was.

I would say that 80-90% of who I am has been shaped by four people: my mother, father, and my maternal and paternal grandmothers. There is very little that I am that cannot be directly attributed to one of them. I only have my mother left, and I am reluctant to make waves with her because I feel that I would be forever untethered; lost, astray, unredeemed, irretrievable, invisible.



  1. Peace to you too storm. I'm sorry you had a rough day and I hope you're feeling stronger by now-at least just a little.

  2. I know how you feel - I lost my mother 7 years ago and and my grandmother passed 3 years ago. I was "Mamma's girl". Sometimes when I think about being all alone and not having them here I also think "Well, they are here - one is sitting on each shoulder and I am constantly amusing and worrying them - lol. When I think that I don't feel so alone anymore. :-)

  3. I am sorry for your losses and the pain you still feel as the result.

    I've had love/hate, very ambivalent feelings towards my father since...forever.

    My maternal grand-mother was very much to me, what yours was to you. The strength and the wisdom the woman exhibted, even in her final days...just blows me away. Still.

    May peace be with you.

  4. Your grandmother sounds like a wonderful woman, Storm, and it's great that you were able to say all the things you wanted to say to her before she passed. That's sometimes the hardest part about grief, I think, if we have unfinished business. We end up with other emotions on top of the grief and it makes the process so much harder.

    You are in my thoughts and I hope that you can find some good things to do for yourself this weekend.

  5. r.d., thank you. I wish I could say I felt better. I just feel lonely. Hopefully by Monday I will be back to my smart-mouthed, opinionated self.

    Trinity2, how funny, I can see you as a 'Mamma's girl'. Whenever I think of Daddy and Mama looking over me, I can just imagine that they are tisking, shaking their heads, and laughing. Sometimes I feel their energy, just for a moment. For that moment, it's wonderful, and I do feel better. But, there are days when I need a conversation with someone who loves me enough to not pull any punches. I always knew the two of them would do that for me. I do love it, though, when I recognize something they would do in my actions. I know they would be mortified to see themselves in me (just as I am with my daughter). Thank you.

    Only Daughter,
    Your words are soothing, I cannot begin to tell you how appreciative I am. Peace will be welcomed, whenever it decides to grace me again.

    There is a tremendous difference in missing Mama, and my regret with Daddy. Hindsight being what it is, I certainly would do things differently with Daddy, even if I just stopped and called him and asked whatever trivia question I had, or made sure to tell him I love him regardless. Just a few simple words spoken while he could have responded would free me from so much pain. But, there no dress rehearsal, no do overs. It's a tough lesson learned. Thank you for the good thoughts. This weekend, I need to go to church. I plan to be in bed hiding all day saturday.

    Hugs to you all, with all of my heart.

  6. storm-thx for such a tender share. through my own loss, i can relate. i hope you can take comfort in all that those folks gave you. it sounds like they gave you "jewels".

    you are a wise woman -- and if things turn out that you feel lost down the road, know that it is ok. you will find your way back!

    i am sending you a big tender hug!

  7. afuntanilla,
    i am all about big tender hugs right now. Thank you very much.

    They did give me jewels, big beautiful, gorgeous jewels. And, thank you for pointing that out. I appreciate that more than I can say right now.
    but lost is...uncomfortable and maddening. lost is walking in the woods at night without moonlight. lost is not having daddy or mama when this world knocks me to my knees.
    but the fog is lifting. Thank you very much.

  8. you are so awesome, woman!! i hope u come to CHICAGO!! or come see me and Trin in ATL

  9. af, you just made me cry. I don't know about awesome, but I really do try to keep my head, and my spirit where I want it. It's a bear sometimes.
    I am looking forward to meeting you. I may only have a day, due to my work schedule, but I am working that out.