Like a punch in the gut, you never know it's coming and so the feelings of grief sneak upon you. You never know why at that moment, what provokes it or where it's going to happen or when that gutteral pain is going to reach up to the top of your throat. It almost seems like this invisible strangle has taken hold of your heart. Its claws grasp your most inner soul and the pain is felt like you can't catch your next breath. I remember when she told me it had metastisized to the liver, and I screamed out....I literally screamed out after I hung up the phone. I'm quite sure I frightened my little Faith as she stood at my locked bedroom door asking, "Mommy, mommy what's wrong??"
In these hustle and bustle days with my kids, the commencement of the school season with its homework, the deadlines, the school activities, sometimes the drama. I am stepping out and meeting new faces for the first time in almost 3 years. Yes, I say 3 years because I didn't want to talk with anyone about anything other than the journey of my sister and our family. How dare someone talk of trivial home purchases or mini dramas in their life. My sister was fighting for her life, and from that time up to now, more important aspects of life and living have taken presidence. I still can't relate to those who are consumed with the material, the busyness, the nonesense of everyday life. I have found a new tool in my life to deal with comments that seem "stupid". I don't like that word, but until I find a better word, that's what I'll use for now. I "meditate" and am discovering peace that's always been there inside....it's been given, but somehow in the turmoil that changed our lives so drastically, I lost it. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I have my "go tos" when I am angry or upset. You know who your are! Then I realize that God has given me the peace I need....it's there......and serenity is there to fill me up. I retreat to this quiet a few times a day, and it helps me deal with the craziness of others. Sometimes I feel like I can't find the time to retreat as I hear whispers of little ones or knocks on my bedroom door, but I make it happen. I realize now, if I don't make the time for me, eventually I will become weak and tired. Then I'm no good to anyone.
For some reason, lately I've been feeling that punch in the gut. It hit me out of the blue last night. Perhaps it's living the new school year, and wishing my sister was here for her kids as they face those new experiences, the new friends, the activities, their teachers, the growing pains of life. I remember the month of August during my school age years, feeling the anticipation of new classes, new friends and my mom seemed so happy.....hmmmm......so happy? I remember her chanting the school song, "School days, school days, reading and writing and rule days....." Could it be she had had her fill of us five kids in and out of her house all summer long? Now as a mother, I understand completely. But the pangs of grief have been more intense lately. Is it the newness of me meeting new people? That's never been comfortable for me: meeting new faces, learning new routines. Is it living new experiences, now actually conversing with mere strangers? I'm so wanting to share these feelings with my sissy. Perhaps everything's changing now, and it stirs up all sorts of emotions. I don't know? Then something's been happening...........the tap, tap, tapping on my pillow at strange times during the night.
A few weeks ago, I awakened sometime in the night hearing a tapping on my pillow. If either Marty or me happens to be snoring (not often with either one of us but mostly happens when we're over tired), we'll nudge or tap the other one to STOP IT! So when I awoke, I said, "Oh, was I snoring??" Marty then woke up and said, "What, what are you talking about? I didn't wake you!" I know what I know, and I felt the tapping. As I lay there, all I was thinking was.......was that HER? It could have been her, but why? Then it happened again at 4:30 in the morning one day and another tapping a couple of nights ago. I mentioned it to Marty again, and I think he thinks I'm going crazy. But for those of you who have dear ones who have passed, you know what I'm talking about. Those signs happen, and maybe.....just maybe she reaching out to me. Like a punch in the gut, it hits me that she's gone from this living life, and that's so difficult. I can't even begin to share all my thoughts about that. She isn't living this life here with me like I want, but perhaps she's tapping on my pillow, waking me up, telling me that she is living and I need to be living here. I've been so afraid of living here without her that she feels the need to keep tapping until I pay attention. Could that be? Although I've been feeling the punch in the gut; I long to feel the tapping, the tapping to tell me she's here.
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