The easiest path to joy, is to count your blessings. This weekend, I saw all ten of my children –not all at once, but over the course of the three days. My heart fluttered for much of the time.
However, we did have to drop one off at the airport today, and that’s always hard on the spirit. Knowing I won’t know when I will see them, I have to wait in joyful hope.
At the end of the weekend, I looked at the schedule for the coming week. Crying seemed like a reasonable response. The summer ends tonight. Paul has cross country from 7:30-9 every day this week. I have pre-services from 7:45-3. Anna has orientation on –well the calendar said Wednesday at the start of summer. It said Thursday as of the beginning of July. It now says Friday. Knowing that people who run schools likewise seek to retreat from starting school too soon makes me feel better about the world. I wondered why I felt so stuck.
My daughter reminded me. All of my life is filtered through grief since December 3rd, and as I’ve already said, I tend to box pain out.
My brother received all the remaining k-cups from my mom’s apartment. She bought in bulk and Friday, he drank the last k-cup. He used it as a ritual to remember her, and to pray. I wished I’d thought of such a touchstone for remembering Mom. Everything flooded my heart and at the same time, I felt like somehow I hadn’t remembered her. I had, but the weight of not having a deliberate way, left me just mournful. I tried to remember her with things I do every day, chocolate, coke zero, prayer –it didn’t quite work. Kept remembering after the fact.
Habbit takes time, so I couldn’t claim it yet. I’d have to keep unboxing the grief.
So I fretted, what to do. Dinner included clearing out the fridge and a cook out with a rain out of smash burgers. The pile of dishes afterwards towered. Somehow, I knew the pile scared everyone away. I opted to put on some tunes and do the dishes while dancing. The grief, the joy, all of it merged and I felt the weight lift. Mom, I love you. You’re always with me. Just like I am always Mom, Mom is always with me. I felt her hug, her presence, all of it. Grieve your own way Sherry, there isn’t a grade, there’s just learning.
Count, count, count the blessings, more than the dishes.
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