| |
| |
|
Grief & Loss Information |
|
|
|
And You Always Will
I opened the dishtowel drawer for about the sixth time, hoping the towels had somehow magically appeared. The brand new towels still weren't there, of course. "What did Mom DO with them?" I wondered aloud. I knew they had to be around somewhere because I had given them to her for Christmas only a few months ago. Not that the towels were so terribly important. It's just that when you're expecting guests, you'd kind of like everything to look nice. Okay, so maybe I wasn't going to find them. Then again, the guests wouldn't arrive until tomorrow. Plenty of time to worry about dishtowels later. On second thought, maybe I ought to forget about the towels all together. My father's niece and her husband didn't seem like the kind of people who would leave in a huff because their host hadn't put out new dishtowels. What next? Perhaps I'd better see if I could lay my hands on Mom's best tablecloth. A tablecloth had always been one of the things my mother insisted upon when we had company. I went to the drawer where Mom kept her tablecloths, and sure enough, there it was. But when I pulled out the hand-embroidered tablecloth, the one that it had taken her months to complete, I gasped in dismay. Right in the middle was a big stain. Now how in the world did Mom's best tablecloth end up with a stain? Oh yes, that's right. We'd all been here for Christmas, and one of the kids had accidentally knocked over a glass of soda pop. The sight of her grandchild sobbing with remorse had been more important than the tablecloth, and Mom had said she was sure the pop would come out when she washed it. All right, so it looked like I'd have to forget the tablecloth, too. Maybe I'd be better off attending to the big things right now, anyway, like vacuuming. Satisfied that I was finally going to make some progress, I got out the vacuum cleaner. Except. . .why did it sound so funny? And why wasn't it picking up those bits of paper on the living room carpeting? I pulled out the attachments hose and flipped the switch again. Ah-ha. That's why. No suction. The hose was plugged. Well, of COURSE the hose was plugged. I couldn't find the new dishtowels. Mom's best tablecloth had a big stain. Why wouldn't the vacuum cleaner hose be plugged? And right then and there, I started to cry. Now what was I going to do? Would a wire hanger work? Thirty minutes later, however, the vacuum cleaner was still plugged. Where was Dad? I knew he'd gone outside and was probably puttering around in his garden, seeing as it was the middle of April, but why wasn't he in here when I needed him? After being a farmer for 50 years, he could fix absolutely anything. Just at that moment, my father came into the house. "What's wrong?" he asked, noticing that I had been crying. Although it had been years since I called him "Daddy," it just sort of slipped out, and along with it came more tears. "Oh, Daddy - I can't find the new dishtowels. The tablecloth has a big stain. The vacuum cleaner is plugged. And-" I stopped and swallowed hard. "I miss my mother." There. I'd said it. And in that instant, the whole world seemed to stop while Dad drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I know you do," he said. "So do I." You see, only three weeks earlier, my mother had been diagnosed with advanced gallbladder cancer. Mom died Saturday night, and this was Monday. My father's niece and her husband were driving 275 miles to attend the funeral, and they would be staying at the house. As Dad gazed at me, I noticed how much he seemed to have aged in the last few weeks. And his face was covered with silvery stubble. It was a rare morning when my father didn't shave, but then, the past couple of days had been far from ordinary. "And you know what?" Dad continued. "You always WILL miss your mother. In fact, it won't ever go away completely. Not even when you're as old as me." Dad was 70. I was 26. I never knew Dad's mother. She had died before I was born. Mom had been stricken with polio in 1942 when she was 26 and paralyzed in both legs. At the time, the doctors had told her she would never have more children. I was born 16 years later. After the funeral was over and my father's relatives had gone home, I found the dishtowels. Mom had put them in her dresser drawer. And with several washings, the stain finally came out of the tablecloth. Dad had been able to fix the vacuum cleaner too. But nothing could fix the fact that my mother was gone. Mom died in 1985, and all these years later, I realize that Dad was right - I AM always going to miss her. But I've also figured out what else he was trying to tell me on that April day so long ago - that missing my mother keeps her alive in my heart. ********************** About The Author LeAnn R. Ralph is the editor of the Wisconsin Regional Writer (the quarterly publication of the Wisconsin Regional Writers' Assoc.) and is the author of the book, Christmas in Dairyland (True Stories from a Wisconsin Farm). She is working on her next book, Give Me a Home Where the Dairy Cows Roam. See what readers are saying about Christmas in Dairyland - http://ruralroute2.com
MORE RESOURCES:
Grief-Loss - Google News |
|
|
|
RELATED ARTICLES
Terrorism Worries: 10 Ways to Turn Fear into Hope September 11th changed America and chances are it changed you. Images of that tragic day pop into your mind without warning and you have a constant feeling of anxiety. An Unexpected Letter It was a couple of weeks after Christmas, and I was standing by my mailbox in the vestibule of the apartment building where I lived in Lexington, Kentucky, holding a letter I had just received. The handwriting was not familiar and neither was the return address, although it was postmarked Seattle, Washington, the same place where Hannah Paulson used to live. Why Dont We Talk About Anticipatory Grief? I know anticipatory grief - a feeling of loss before a death or dreaded event occurs - far too well. My mother suffered from probable Alzheimer's disease and I was her caregiver for nine years. Do You Know Someone Whos Dying? Too many people are dying alone?The dying are one of society's most unrecognized and under-served groups. As individuals near the end of life they are often ignored, discounted, misunderstood and forgotten. Suicide in the Church Part 2 In a town the size of mine - about 16,000 - can a few suicides within a 90-day period be considered an epidemic? I'd say so. Quite a few Christians have contacted me since these tragedies have occurred, people struggling with the in's and out's of suicide and its effect on one's eternal reward, among other concerns. When The Spirit Leaves The Body Do you spend most of your time inside or outside of your body? If you know what I'm talking about then I can almost certainly say that you have spent some time outside of your body.What does it even mean to "be outside" of one's body? Well, in order to appreciate what this means you must have an experience of your "Self" first and then you must be able to "feel" where that "Self" is geographically speaking. How to Deal With A Death in the Family and Still Run Your Small Business As a small business owner we have to deal with tax law changes, local ordinances, environmental laws, Worker's Compensation, etc. Just when we thought we had everything under control, something terrible happenes. New Tears [about Grievng--with commentary] New Tears [about Grieving]If it rains or shinesLittle does it matter so? Days, like tear drops-Slip and slide, and go.I sit looking out my windowLittle do I want to say-? Goodbye and close my brain;Not forever, anyway!. GoodBye GrandMa My dearest Grandma, I will never forget you & sorry that I was not there with you when you passed.Grandma. Who has the Worst Pain During the 28 years I have been interacting with bereaved people, one of the most frequent questions I have been asked is, "Who has the worst pain?" Do bereaved parents suffer more than widows and widowers? Do children whose parents die feel more agony than children who lose a sibling? Is it harder to watch a loved one suffer for a long time before death releases the victim than it is to answer the doorbell or the phone at midnight and suddenly hear the news of tragedy? Is suicide worse than homicide? Is the death of an "older" child more difficult to grieve than the death of a newborn or infant?If there were one, clear and definitive answer to those questions, grieving could be neatly catalogued and mourners could be organized into convenient categories. Our comforters and caregivers would then be able to select from a predictable menu of helps, and everyone could get "healed" more quickly and efficiently. Whens Sarah Coming Home? Helping Your Child Understand Death For most children, their first experience with grief comes with the death of a beloved family pet. When Zoe the eight-week old puppy dies of parvovirus or Tweety the budgie stops singing his morning song, a child experiences profound and lasting loss for the first time in their young lives. Terminal Illness- Death and Grief No one likes to think about illness and death, when we are well, we feel invincible and there is nothing that can prepare us for the shock and devastation of a terminal diagnosis. The knowledge that we can no longer take our lives or the lives we share with our loved ones for granted takes away our ability to plan for the future and removes hope from our lives. Grief Masks October makes me think of Halloween, and Halloween makes me think of masks, and masks remind me that sometimes when we're grieving, we wear masks without even realizing it. We may never stop to think about how other people perceive our appearances, our images and our behaviors. You Have to Show Up: On Small Miracles (Okay, maybe not so small) I hadn't intended to go to my cousin's funeral.That sounds terrible, I know. The Creative Side of Healing One of the areas where I seem to be placing most of my focus these days is the relationship between creative expression and healing. Something that I have always found to be particularly fascinating is the fact that the words heal, whole and holy all come from the same Latin root. Dealing With Grief and Loss - How to Mend a Broken Heart What is it about Grief & Loss that upsets us so much? Is it the heavy duty emoting that we have to do to get through our suffering? Is it the fear we have about opening ourselves to all this pain? Because, let's face it, it's hard down there, in the land of grieving where all those emotions toss us around like a cork on a stormy sea.We understand that this is necessary, at a surface level, but how we are feeling is what really counts. The Look of Grief Never, since man has walked upright, have people all over the globe had more educational advantages or more opportunities to practice advanced social and interpersonal skills. And yet, for the most part, we still have not learned to look past the obvious, to see beyond the exterior shell of our fellow man, and to discover the worth of the real person. How Can I Transform Tragedy? There is only one place where tragedy occurs, and that is in the mind. Tragedy may appear to you on the physical level, however, it is the enormous power of your mind that creates the pain and separation you feel, from Love, from God, from Life itself when you listen to what your egoic thoughts are telling you, rather than listen to the voice of pure love, which can ONLY come from God, Holy Spirit, Divine Source. Good Grief! If tears are an indication of how special my relationship with my mother was, I cry with pride! I've come to see grief as pain with a purpose. Interestingly enough, as I cared for my mother in my home the last several weeks of her life, much of what I had learned through spiritual teachings about death had gone out the window. Beyond A Mothers Nightmare To Radical Forgiveness It was a moment I will never forget.On February 22, 2003, I was visiting with my son Brian Michael (http://www.
|
| home | index |site map |
| © 2006 |