Photo: Another photo from my “garden tour.” With the longer, cooler nights, the garden is transitioning. Some plants go “dormant” while others simply wither and return to the compost. It is an inevitable transition. The natural world brings poetry to life’s more solemn events.
My grandmother had a catastrophic setback sometime this morning. She passed away just as I was planting kisses on little boys’ foreheads and sending them to bed.
I wish I’d been able to say goodbye. I wanted to hold her hand, to give her a kiss, to feel the warmth passing through generations of skin and bone. I wanted to bear witness to the end of a wonderful life. To see her satisfied smile as she entered the Kingdom she always believed in. I wanted to know if Poppy or Nanny were waiting for her.
I feel a touch of embarrassment. I feel the urge to clean and feel sheepish about the state of the house. Surely she’ll come this way, I’ve thought. Surely she’ll come this way to check on us, to see the boys, to say goodbye. She, who always had a spotless house (I don’t think her floors ever lost that freshly-mopped shine), will tsk in my direction before being on her way.
And that’s when my heart breaks. Knowing she’ll pass this way, on her way. And will I know? Will she leave one last directive? Will she give me something to do this Sunday at 3? Will she tell me to stop yellin’ at my poor, sweet little boys? Let them be, they are just fine?
I hope that I’ll be able to hear her. I know I’ll feel her presence forever. But, one last time, I hope that I can hear her.
As you can imagine, it’s an intense time. Death comes with logistics. Mourning requires time and space. Function shifts to the basic. I’m not sure what my schedule will be next week. I will try to write at least one post. At least some Quiet Thoughts. And if I can write Quiet Thoughts for this Friday, I will. But if you return to this space and I haven’t posted, well… my apologies in advance. I’ll return soon, very soon.
Until next I see you, Dear Reader, choose love, choose kindness, choose to reach out your hand, choose to give a little of yourself, and take care.