Tardy, But Still Viable

After reading my last blog, I realized that some of the hope it expressed was a little premature, there has been a lot to deal with despite the absence of continuing tragedies in the interim. Dad's radiation treatments have started and will continue for several more weeks, then (I think) he has chemo to look forward to, although I need to double check with him on that. Our family's struggles seem to be subsiding - for the moment - and an uneasy calm, made uneasy by past experiences, has descended. The healing from our mutual losses is still going on and there have been some setbacks - thank goodness for friends, relatives, and antidepressants!

More and more it feels as though my mind, still fragile in many unexpected ways, is reawakening as thoughts of continuing work on my novel - which Patty was helping me vet - and ideas for other things to write about and poetry to write begin to come, becoming more and more persistent and insistant as I am able to shed the pain of loss and reclaim those inner portions of my life that were so devastated by Patty's illness and death. If I manage to finish my silly and grotesque "work of art" it shall be dedicated to my sister - more for her help than any inspiration derived - Patty's mind and thoughts were so apropos to my need for an objective second opinion that I am still feeling a little lost knowing I can no longer call her to read chapters to her and have her mention the flaws I need to correct in continuity or consistency. Sigh, sigh, sigh!

My young niece seems to be feeling her mother's death more now, although the adults are healing. It is a terrible thing to lose your mother at so young an age and only have fat old aunties to remind you of her. I worry about her, but feel in my heart she will be alright; that she will do better than she seems to be doing right now - she is her mother's daughter - the progeny of a survivor and a fighter, the daughter of a woman who won every fight in her life except the last one. Recalling all of that, perhaps some of my concerns are misplaced although very natural under the circumstances.

My nephew is doing really well. After all of the heartache and loss, he has been happier than we have seen him for many years, staying with his Dad's second family. He will be graduating from high school this June and is making some enormous strides toward full adulthood and personal independence. I think his mother would have been extremely proud of him had she been able to see him achieving his own personhood, maturing as a man and son in the wake of all the toil and torment.

Our brother (Patty's, mine, and "she who declines to be named") is off in his own world still, although his thoughts emerge from the fog now and then to acknowledge missing Patty. He also seems to take more of an interest in our niece and nephew, although cigarettes are what take up the majority of his attention. He got over his bout with pneumonia this winter and emerged seemingly convinced that the smoking really is not good for him, but old habits, and old delusions, die hard and, in his confused and frightened mind - struggling for security in an unsecure world - the myths have again overcome the blatant realities. He did seem to understand what I told him about the possiblities that the pneumonia could have damaged his lungs further and that might be the reason for his not feeling well again now that he has resumed smoking incessantly, etc. I would think the emphysema would knock some sense into him, but this is not the way things work with my brother. We are all trying to brace for the inevitable heartache of losing him as well, although we know the pain to come will be more immediate despite any preparations we may attempt to make ahead of the actual fact. A brilliant mind defeated by the ravages of lies and the needs of a physical addiction.

I repotted a hydrangea the other day, and tried to save a dying rose. The cats are all a huge comfort in more ways than can be enumerated here, and my boyfriend is more chipper than I have seen him for many years. The small birds still come to our newly installed bird feeder, although the "squirrel-proof" feeder seems to dispense more to the little red squirrel than to the juncos, chickadees, sparrows, and blue jays. Also, since we are no longer scattering the seed all over the deck, as before, the number of birds appearing is smaller and more infrequent than before. I think I will go back to the old scattering technique and hope to see flocks again instead of the few scattered individuals we now have attending our bird buffet.

Life marches on in its relentless fashion, as does nature. It brings a strange and arid comfort to me in knowing that, when all of us are gone, the sun will still peek above the horizon each day, tinting the clouds those particular sun-inspired hues, and the moon will still be seen in the darkness of the sky, even though no one will be there to appreciate its ethereal beauty. Perhaps, despite the destruction humanity seems utterly determined to bring upon itself, there will be birds and Spring showers, flower bulbs will continue to appear above the earth as winter fades away, and the burgeoning of life, minus that of the interminably self-destructive, will reclaim the sunshine and beauty nature has so generously shared with us the entire time humanity has had its existence.

May all of those in need of healing find it, and those who have healing to give find those who need it most.

Love, Izzlebug