Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Stars in the sky

Finally, a streak of good weather for at least a few days. No rain--just cool nights and warm days.  I will be on the boat for the weekend which is good.  I am needing to get my share of boat days in, which have seemed amazingly short over the past few weeks.

We have been working in the yard and garden quite a bit. The strawberries are ripe, and they have been good with our breakfast in the morning. The blueberries are plentiful but not ready yet.  I ordered some blackberry plants that will be great for next year. It's time to pick them along the hedgerows now.

My cousin continues to languish in an intensive care unit.  Skeletal and with pneumonia now, I am hoping that his slow death will end soon.  I continue to marvel at what we do to keep those we love alive because not having them seems to be the most frightening thing of all. Perhaps, it's because we cut ourselves off from others, give up friends, and become obsessive about a person.  I see that tendency in myself so I recognize it and am all too familiar with seclusions seductiveness.

My father-in-law is much loved by a large African American nurse who cares for him.  She clucks over him, making sure that he is eating something soft, trying to get calorie enriched drinks into him.  He talks to her and tells her things about himself and his wife.  And yet, he still doesn't want to say but a few words to me or to my wife.  I know that it hurts C., but she is resigned to the fact that he was not much of a father to her ever.

Their history is one that had a lot of upheaval.  And she still has flashbacks of being a child in the midst of their arguments, powerless to do anything but hide, scream or cry for them to stop.  I don't know why he has chosen to shun her now.  But we both still go to see him, repeating the same visits over and over, hoping for different results.  The only thing that has changed is that we don't go as often, only a couple of times a week now. Insanity kept to a minimum level of damage.

My home group meeting has even had its share of upheaval lately.  One lady got her nose out of joint about how the meeting was conducted by a person chairing.  And evidently there is still some resentment hanging around, even after an amends.  I can sit still with the tension and share because this ultimately is not my problem to solve.  I simply get weary of the shortcomings that suck the joy out of something that is meant to be healing.

So I am happy with my plants, going to the gym, journaling, doing some photography, and sitting on the deck in the cool of the evening to watch the stars in the night sky.

“The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of starstuff.” ― Carl Sagan


  1. i feel you on the shortcomings that suck the joy out of things man...i hope this passes soon for you...i am glad your father in law has someone to talk may take time, it may never happen but...

  2. Oh Syd! May you find some of the peace your soul needs right now. And your wife, too.

  3. Spending more time on photography, eh? I'd love to see more of it here...I've always loved your photography. You have a good eye.

  4. ripe strawberries? I'm very jealous. we're having lovely weather for right now but it is a tease, June is usually rain,rain, rain. I so wish I could spend an afternoon on your boat with you and "C'. it would be lovely.

  5. What a stunning picture at the end of your post. Reminds me of gold and silver jewelry worn together. Strange comparison, I know. It's very lovely.

    Sometimes lots of things in life suck at the same time. You've got the right idea about what to do, when they do.

  6. “Anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our Traditions, ever reminding us to place principles before personalities.” Oh how our personalities can get in the way sometimes. C is in my prayers and I ask forgiveness for the coveting of those ripe strawberries. :)

  7. Nice post. Thanks for sharing. My 85 year old neighbor is in the nursing home, and I just keep hoping and praying that he'll get better. I don't want to let go. He's my friend.
    C's dad and my neighbor both suffer with the same thing I think. It's unforgiveness. It's the poison that's been eating away at them for years. We are so blessed to have found the solution. Peace

  8. Seriously? It is a wise pair of shoes that keeps someone else's drama out of them.

  9. I have been thinking about you and C, the pain and frustration of old unhealed stuff. What always gets me with PTSD is that it isn't the big dramatic crises or traumas that often go on troubling us but the small painful incidents, the lack, the absence of a parent, the living with uncertainty and unpredictability.

    And I'm wary too of those amends made very quickly to 'make nice' when there is unreadiness or unresolved hurt or anger that still has to be processed. It is tiring for those on the sidelines.

    Love to both of you.

  10. Hey Syd, is always good to read your blog. Would be so easy to surrend to sadness and self-pity; and yet, we are trying not to. Is nice to find other people walking that same path, searching for peace instead of war and working on learning how to give instead of always ask. I just feel less lonely. I wish God will continue giving you the strenght to live one day at the time.

  11. It has helped in my recovery "what you think of me is none of my business". When I know I have done my best, even if it isn't good enough for you, I can rest in the idea that it is none of my business.
    My mother likes to keep her storyline continuing of the victim. Being taged as her victimizer was hurtful and confusing.
    Letting go and trusting HP has a plan.

  12. Syd, When my dad rejected us later in life, I was hurt terribly, but like C., I realized that he really never was "there" for us. He embraced his new wife's kids, nieces and nephews and many others which stung terribly. Someone told me why he liked them and not us - guilt. He had no history or guilt when he looked at them.

  13. When my aunt was sick she loved her caregivers more than the rest of us because they didn't know her and the pain she had inflicted on her family. No baggage. They saw her the way she wanted them to see her and then they went home at night.

    She had rejected her family at that point and only myself and her caregiver attended her funeral. Sad that even until the end was totally shut down.


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