10:29 am - Grief, Silence and Gratitude
Here's, Papa (my Dad) at my neice's wedding in 2002. It was the last time I danced with him. Isn't he gorgeous?
Today, both kids are at school. BOTH! It's 10a.m. and I don't quite know what to do with myself. I mean, I have TONS of stuff that needs to be done, truckloads of stuff I could be doing and probably a handful of things I will actually get to. But, the fact that it's this early in the day and my daily practice has been done, the housework is finished, email correspondence is completed and I have FIVE more hours before anyone will interrupt this glorious and well-earned silence . . . is as close to mirculous as I can imagine.
I am grateful for all the heartfelt condolences I've received about the loss of my Dad in these last days. It is still a kind of a shock (to an "old lady" of 45 like me) that the majority of these things get done online now. Even my Dad's obituary and announcements regarding calling hours and funeral service are online. No more newspapers. No more phone calls. No more cards. No more flowers. While, the immediacey of it all feels good, I somehow miss the Old School ways of doing things. There are no cards or newspaper clippings to save. Nobody comes by with food for the grieving. The phone isn't ringing and the sound of the voices of loved ones is replaced by condolences sent via email. Ah. Time and technology march on. And we adjust. And move forward.
I am grateful beyond words that my daughter came home from her first day of High School at her new school yesterday and was absolutely bubbling over with excitement and enthusiasm. She happily did her homework and shared the details of her day. I know full well that this too shall pass. However, it is cause for celebration.
I am grateful for the sweetness of my son as I dropped him off at the school cafeteria this morning and he hugged me tight to him and whispered, "I'm so glad to go back to school. I'll be good. I'll do good. You'll be proud. I love you." Yeah. I swallowed hard and waited to get into the car before I opened the faucets and the tears poured.
I am grateful for these hours to be with my own thoughts and processes as I continue to move through the feelings bubbling to the surface over the loss of my father and all of the changes this year has wrought thus far.
I am grateful for the opportunity to finally unpack and cleanse the altar things which are still boxed up. To build, in these hours of silence and stillness, the remaining shrines and altars I am accustomed to having in my home.
I am grateful to have the choice today to eat when I want, rest when I want, work when I want. Without interruption or demands upon my attention/energy. I love my children madly and . . .
I am grateful that for the first time in nearly two years, I have more than 90 minutes alone in my own house.
Tomorrow is the final thrust of the Grand Cross activity that began astroglogically in late June. I hope it carries away with it the remnants of the eclipses which have wrought so much havoc. Mercury goes direct soon as well. So, we might all get some space to breathe. Right? (Even if I'm wrong, just nod and smile, okay?)