Tuesday, November 23, 2010

What Are You Waiting For?

Always Waiting
I was reading a writing prompt on http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474978604784 by Greg Schiller about family stories.  The writing prompt itself seems important to me. 

"Write anything you want, humorous or not, fanciful or factual on the theme of family stories."
  • Tell the stories that your family retells every time they get together.
  • Tell the stories that were never told.
  • Tell the stories that need to be told.
  • Tell the stories that will be lost if you do not tell them."
These prompts bring up so many memories. Some of them are to strong for me to even articulate them.  Some are to recent for me to share them.  Though in my heart I know that I need to share them, at least with myself.  I tried to keep a journal when I took care of mother.  I kept a surface one.  Every time I tried to write about the emotions and what was going on in my mind I couldn't put pen to paper.  
Part of it was facing the facts that I was losing one of the most important people in my life - my mother.  The disease was stole her independence, her ability to communicate it also stole her memories.  It also stole my security -  here was this woman who had been so strong and independent, and now wasn't. A part of me wondered if I was looking at my own future. 
What didn't change was her love for me. The fact she may not have known who exactly I was wasn't important.  She always knew she was loved by me.  
She once told me that we don't always get a choice between good and bad choices.  Sometimes it's between bad choices and worse choices.  Families often face difficult choices when trying to find care for their loved ones. Part of making them comfortable sometimes means re-connecting our loved ones with their past - helping them revisit their life stories.
I have decided to accept the challenge and write some of my family stories.  I hope you accept the challenge too. If you do I would enjoy hearing about it. 

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Sunday, November 14, 2010

Breaking Light

Yesterday slips into memory as I ponder life, wondering about the future.  A colleague just lost her husband of 38 years.  I can only imagine the pain.  I think of her as she deals with the grief and all the demands made on survivors when one life ceases.
She is in a new school teaching a new grade.  Lots of new people that are still working separately, who have not integrated as a team.  The support system of colleagues still developing.
This morning I stood in our front yard wrestling with current life struggles.  The morning light begins to break.  This statement rings true for me, as I reflect on my life.