Because all experiences are valuable.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

My Peace I Give You

Too much is happening too fast. I've done well slowing my inner mind down, but I don't seem to have any control over the outer environment. There are things I need to experience right now, that seem to have happened in the past.

My lesson for a few weeks has been for myself to stop being in the past, at all. The past really only exists when you are thinking of it. Other than that it is gone. So why think on what happened before that was maybe perceived as unpleasant at the time?
I am moving all my stored emails, some that contain information I may need to reference, to a flash drive, so that they do not exist on my computer right now...so that they become the past and not the now.

But what of grief? This June 30th was two years since my mother died. Last year right about now I had to put my cat to sleep. I had had him for twelve years. I am not a witch, but I love the idea of having a familiar. If I ever had one in all my life, Ajax was it.

Please don't read on if you are looking for happiness in this moment. Acceptance I have, but happiness no. And never were we ever promised by anyone that every moment would be happy. Some of you know I have been dealing with being the
Executrix of my Grandmother's estate since last December. Now that her house has sold, I feel I am just now reaching one of the stages of grief. I just read online that it is common for people to feel the most intense grief eight months after their loss. I don't know how substantiable this is, but Grandma died on Thanksgiving Day, so that is just about 8 months ago. I discovered her body when I went to pick her up for Thanksgiving dinner. She was in a tremendously awkward and "broken" position, but she also had her hands folded in prayer and the most peaceful expression. That's how I feel about the entirety of my loss. Broken but peaceful.

I am really the last of my family. Father died of cancer, which I more than anyone else in the immediate family, dealt with first hand. Mother died of pre-leukemia aplastic anemia (Evans syndrome), which I was able to help in her care by accompanying her to Cancer treatment hospitals around the country. Sister died in the Navy from the previously mentioned brain hemorrhage. I cared for my ex-husband through so many surgeries...back, throat, kidney, and did the best I could through his near fatal Melanoma that was already in his lymph nodes. Even my dog got cancer, bone cancer in her toes and had two amputation surgeries. Then the loss of my dear cat. And most recently my beloved Grandmother, the rock of my existence my whole life. I have one remaining sister, who is a brilliant woman, but in general I cannot deal with where she chooses to go emotionally, physically and spiritually...to great extremes I might politely say.

The greatest gift I can give myself is rest. Rest and generosity of thought.
I have never had so many weeks in a row of no actual concrete deadlines for anything. I've already registered for my classes. I can't close the estate just yet, but soon. I'm reading books and writing this blog, but the chaos continues.

Still I feel peace. I grew up Catholic, but haven't been Catholic in a long time. Went to Baptist private school when I was little, Presbyterian College...have regularly attended Episcopal and Methodist services at various times in my life. My father was a Buddhist mostly. I've had close friends and deep discussions in the Hindu faith, and my ex-husband was a Jew...we were even married by a rabbi.

My faith is to take the very best of all religions and thoughts always. Everything that is good, and pure. So I close with John 14:27, something I heard every day as a child.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. (NIV)

And thanks for that.

1 comment:

  1. Such troubles go beyond imagining. You seem remarkably intact, not exactly a triumphant person, but someone who has embraced her humanity without bitterness and her successes with humility. I salute you.