And so I see a year has passed since I last visited myself, my blog, the writing space of the author E.D. Montaigne.
And quite a year it has been.
Shortly after the last blog of May 2017 (a year!) my dear mum spiraled into her final decline, and my life spiraled into hospice care of her in her beloved cabin. Who knew that her joy of hearing the book read to her would become our final times of connection before she went on a star journey, first in mind back to her childhood — which was a place of fears and joys as it is for each of us — and then with her final passing last summer.
And who had known this would be the path when at Christmas-time before that she murmured to me,
"I think I'll be going soon..."
I let that statement 'set' for a while in the quiet as we watched snowflakes gently fall on her mountainside, and then I slowly circled back around to gently ask if she knew how soon?
She thought for a moment, the former First Lady of Colorado who now sat with her hair bedraggled, her clothes a bit spotted with food, as we washed hands together, and with a toothless, cheeky grin quipped: "Well, not that soon...!".
That's what I love about memoir.
It gives a chance to relive again such irrevocable milliseconds and see, finally, the humor and the love that encapsulates each to make a life.
I've not had much of a voice since she passed last summer. And then, with my father's sudden passing just this Spring, well...
it's been quite a year of wordless heart-heavel,
and I know there isn't such a word but there is now.
I've felt too overwhelmed to meet Sadness at the writing table and have tea and a talk.
But she would not want it this way.
She would want a story
to be told.
To find the meaning and the humor
the love and the laughter
that brought grace to her life as well.
She knew Story is the stuff of magic.
So, we begin again.
with a book launch of the story of Love incarnate,
as taught to me by my pups,
learning the language of love from two masters of unconditional love.
And I begin the gathering of the story of
Return Voyage.
Perhaps that voyage has already begun
for I see that I am suddenly
alone,
that 'home' has left me
and it is for me to
find the meaning of
return.
And quite a year it has been.
Shortly after the last blog of May 2017 (a year!) my dear mum spiraled into her final decline, and my life spiraled into hospice care of her in her beloved cabin. Who knew that her joy of hearing the book read to her would become our final times of connection before she went on a star journey, first in mind back to her childhood — which was a place of fears and joys as it is for each of us — and then with her final passing last summer.
And who had known this would be the path when at Christmas-time before that she murmured to me,
"I think I'll be going soon..."
I let that statement 'set' for a while in the quiet as we watched snowflakes gently fall on her mountainside, and then I slowly circled back around to gently ask if she knew how soon?
She thought for a moment, the former First Lady of Colorado who now sat with her hair bedraggled, her clothes a bit spotted with food, as we washed hands together, and with a toothless, cheeky grin quipped: "Well, not that soon...!".
That's what I love about memoir.
It gives a chance to relive again such irrevocable milliseconds and see, finally, the humor and the love that encapsulates each to make a life.
I've not had much of a voice since she passed last summer. And then, with my father's sudden passing just this Spring, well...
it's been quite a year of wordless heart-heavel,
and I know there isn't such a word but there is now.
I've felt too overwhelmed to meet Sadness at the writing table and have tea and a talk.
But she would not want it this way.
She would want a story
to be told.
To find the meaning and the humor
the love and the laughter
that brought grace to her life as well.
She knew Story is the stuff of magic.
So, we begin again.
with a book launch of the story of Love incarnate,
as taught to me by my pups,
learning the language of love from two masters of unconditional love.
And I begin the gathering of the story of
Return Voyage.
Perhaps that voyage has already begun
for I see that I am suddenly
alone,
that 'home' has left me
and it is for me to
find the meaning of
return.