December

It is December 1st. I left work yesterday feeling ill. I have some kind on cold or bug. That explains some of the aches and pains, it's not just grief. I have spent the day laying about the house, taking it easy and trying to feel rested. since I have to work tomorrow. I would much rather be off and go to church tomorrow. Tomorrow, I think, is the first Sunday of Advent. I would rather prepare for Christmas in a purely religious way, and leave all of the commercial trapping to other years. I would rather spend Christmas on retreat, but now I am married and I have other things that I need to do. And I have my Mom's pugs to take care of. One is sleeping on the sofa with me and the other two are running around the house. There is a fire in the fireplace with a log of pear wood from the tree that came down last year, and the whole room is beginning to smell lovely. I don't know how I really feel right now. I still miss my Mom fiercely! but for the moment I feel calm. That in itself is a blessing. The fire helps, listening to the crackle of the logs, watching the dancing flames. and feeling the warmth spreading out over the room is wonderful. My Mom got to spend time in this room enjoying a similar fire on cool evenings. Perhaps it also helps that I haven't had much to do today except take care of myself, nurse this bug, and relax. That allows me time to reflect, or not to reflect, as I choose. There have been too many times lately that I have been pushed into a situation where something has reminded me on my Mom, or especially the night we took her to the hospital and I have had to mull over the memory. Or push the memory away, when I would rather had time to consider. Trying to live my usual life, (or unusual, since I am now married and also need to help my husband with his broken wrist and be nurse) and grieve and reflect at the same time is nearly impossible. I try not to cry when I am at work, but there are times when I would like to just sit and dissolve into a puddle of tears. It I had more times like this day, I think I would feel more like myself. (Although I do need to remember that that "self" is now permanently changed by the death of my Mom. Each death I've had to adjust to over these years has been different, and has left a profound mark on my life. I am a different person because of each person's life and because of each person's death.