mutterings from the tween side...

I was folding laundry and listening to "Who let the frog out?!? BOOM boom boom boom BOOM," blaring from my son's room, when the music abruptly cut off.

Me: Hey hon, it's ok if you blast your music while you are hanging up clothes; it doesn't bother me.

Z: I know, Mom. But I'm talking to myself right now. As soon as I'm done with the conversation, I'll turn it back on.

healing happens...

I realized this morning, as many people in America remember loved ones stolen away in a horrific act of violence, that the third anniversary of Doc's death had quietly passed me by. I still light candles every day, and there isn't an hour that goes by where I don't think of him, miss him, wish he were here... but here and there, bits and pieces of life slip back into normal rhythms. It doesn't hurt as much to laugh... I can smile sometimes without an oversheen of sadness... I can think of him, now and then, without the stabbing agony of loss that so viciously marked the first few weeks without him.

Friends that care continue to bear me up. Loving kindness from strangers continues to amaze and touch me. And every day there is a new discovery of Doc's continued presence and influence in my and Zac's life, as we slowly learn how much he prepared for our care beyond his passing, and continues to care for us even now.

Perhaps healing isn't forgetting, or moving past. Perhaps healing is merely the final weaving in of loose threads, cut short and too soon, so that the ends no longer chafe, while the pattern is fixed forever.

Unlooked-for happiness found in little, simple things...

Z: Mom, you know the best part of my birthday??

Me: No, tell me, honey.

Z: Not only CAN B sing... he DOES!

(...so I'm looking forward to more family sing-alongs...)

Beyond Blue...

is a blog that I subscribe to and try to read on a fairly regular basis. Today's post (Losing Our Fear of Rest) is a great description of my life. I wish I'd written this paragraph, so I could claim it:

"...I'm the opposite of mindful these days. You know how the Buddhist monks talk about the swinging monkeys of the brain, and how you need to tame them? Well, my monkeys have just spotted a jungle gym inside a McDonald's and are having a grand old time. I don't think they will be settling down anytime soon."

Read the whole post here: http://blog.beliefnet.com/beyondblue/2010/07/mindful-monday-losing-our-fear.html

It's been a month...

since the love of my life made his transition. The past month has been all but unbearable. It was only yesterday that I was able to have the first positive thought about his leaving me behind. For all of my adult life, he smoothed my way with advice, with caring, with a shoulder to cry on, with a strong arm to lift me up or hold me close. He was always there for me, no matter what. Now he has gone before me, and when I come to join him, he will once again be able to guide me and protect me, the champion of my heart.

Where I am now:

Life is eternal, and love is immortal, and death is only a horizon;
and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.
~Rossiter Worthington Raymond

It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer... and everything collapses. ~Colette

Sorrow you can hold, however desolating, if nobody speaks to you. If they speak, you break down. ~Bede Jarrett

Where I aspire to be:

She was no longer wrestling with the grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts. ~George Eliot

My best friend has crossed the Bridge...

My best friend has crossed the Bridge.
Ever gentle, kind, humble, wise,
quick to laugh and slow to anger,
With strength and courage,
Holding my hand, he went quietly into the Light
Leaving behind the thundering silence of his absence.

Jason "Doc" Gerbino
June 8, 1941 - June 8, 2010

He was the most noble human being I have ever had the honor to know-- my mentor, my confidant, my confessor, my comforter-- my soul mate. He was my best friend for the past 28 years.

I will miss him forever.

Snort laffin...

Overheard at the skate park, as my 10 year old Z watched a 4 year old child run around:

Z: (Sigh) I wish I had his energy!