an afternoon with Alexander and Beatrice (she slept most of the time)

I know its a blog, but it doesn't really need words...

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Longing for Winter

"It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are." — E.E. Cummings "Unbeing dead isn't being alive." — E.E. Cummings "We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit." — E.E. Cummings I had not intended to start with anything like the above quotes, but aren't they amazing? What I had wanted was to find a poem about winter. In the spider-webbed, cardboard-boxed-up mind of mine I remember something and I decided it was e.e.cummings but even though the internet is oh wow! I can't find it. Or maybe it's the dust. My husband needs all of the credit for this post. We discuss our life continuously. We look at the good and the bad, what we are doing right and what is going horribly wrong....

Hope and Mercedes Benz's

So my weekend went like this: My hope is not what it should be, hoplessness is starting to creep in Emiel leaves for camp I watch a stupid movie and feel scared My hope fades just a bit more I do my very best to keep my little people happy and content while their daddy is away Alexander is really not happy his daddy is away My hope continues fading I have plans to go my parents for Saturday Phone my dad who says my mom has had another allergic reaction to a medication I end up trying to clean and leave later then expected Get a text message from my dad saying I need to get there He needs to go out and my mom doesn't want to be left alone Suddenly it dawns on me that this reaction is quite serious My hope is fading fast I arrive at my parents' house with the littlies in tow I rush to my mom who has been trying to sleep She asks if her eyes are red Her face is swollen This is the third reaction And this time it was to Paracetamol (one of the components in the other meds) My mom...

Grief

I have started without finishing more posts than I can count. I have and still do find it very difficult to put down the words that will most likely open the sluice gates I am not sure I am willing to open. We were living in Japan when we received the phone call from my mother telling me that my father had chosen to take his life. My mother felt it necessary to tell me before I read it on Facebook. I don't want to talk about suicide now or how damn angry I am with him, I will at some stage, I need to share what life is like for those left behind. I do want to talk about how grief is like the scene of a train wreck. For years I had prided myself in my ability to self-evaluate. I new I was insecure, or if I had treated someone unkindly. I was able to prejudge my emotions and navigate them before they caused damage. I have always been deep, but I had moved clear of the precipice leading to despair. Grief comes l...

a thousand blue fish

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