I had to let go this last week of my childhood home. My Mom stayed in our family home almost until the very end of her life and refused to size down or get rid of anything into her 87th year of life.She used to say to me, " It will be you kids' problem when I'm gone" and laugh.
Well it is our problem but I don't think she could have imagined how much pain and grief it has added to her death this April.
Instead of grieving the letting go of my childhood home and things like her biscuit mixing pan and cake plate, and other sentimental pieces over a period of time, I have had to let go of my mother, go through her entire house, storage shed, and barn all in one week. Now just weeks later the house itself is ready to go up for sale.
The feelings I am left with are breathless, ripping, pain. Like the intense pain of giving birth in 20 minutes instead of 20 hours. I try to not feel it during the day, count my blessings, etc...but in the middle of the night I wake up, my defenses down, the pain of loss overwhelms me. I feel helpless because there is no "rational" reason to any other course of action, yet I long for someone to understand and help me grieve this...but there is no one really.
Just when you think you have gone through the worst of it, you realize that you have to let go of yet another thing with no time to grieve its loss. Never again can I "go home". Someone else will live there, change the colors, remodel, or even neglect this beautiful home my Dad built and no one else ever lived in. I am now the stranger to that home and that town in central Oregon
Yes, I have my own home now, but letting go of these things takes time, time I was not given.
I used to call my Mom and talk about these difficult cases that come along in one's adult life but I can't do that either.
I had other subjects to blog about but I realized this is what consumes me now. To write about those other subjects right now would not give the necessary weight to what I am going through.
In all this probably the most disconcerting part is that most people in my circle of friends don't seem to have an understanding of this, so I am alone in this new pain...like a phantom moving about among the living with deep wounds that no one seems to be able to see or hear of.
So, the glowing ember of my childhood grows weak and I stand helplessly on the sidelines and watch as it grows weaker by days instead of fading over the years. There is no arm around my shoulders holding up knees that threaten to buckle in grief somedays. Husband Rod tries to help but really can't get into my head and heart on this one.
Can I get beyond this? Yes, I know others have...but somehow I feel that part of me is dying and I will carry that dead little girl with me to my grave... no one will know or care about her but me. I will miss her, I will not be the same person without her.
7 comments:
You do have my sympathy.
You also give me more incentive to size down.
I am a ratpack. I almost feel like it is a crime!!!
We just had a thrift sale at a daugter's house, the last one this year. So, all the leftovers go to a mission for homeless men and women. I went through everything once and now have to go through the leftovers. It isn't fun.
You want a laugh!! I have about 8 new ledger books leftover, now what am I going to do with 8 ledger books???
That's a common wrong with us old folks!!
Take care and laugh a little. Just maybe your mother is laughing at what she did!!!
Betty G
Thanks Betty for your thots.
It helps just to be heard.
Lin
Sorry, Lin, if I sounded too flip.
At my age I have a problem giving up some things, make that most things.
I can imagine your mother would appreciate your doing it for her.
And also I can imagine you had some sweet memories.
I hope my children will feel that way.
Betty G
Geesh Lin, this is the second time in a row that I have read one of your blogs and ended up crying. It is so wierd to me to realize that the ever-confident, ever-capable, Teacher Lin who I have always and will always look up to, is not always 150% together. I am praying that God will soothe your hurting heart.
Thanks Carolyn.
I knew I had to write the blog but didn't realize how responsive people would be...I was embarassed to write it...thot people would think me over dramatic..some do I am sure. Anyway thanks for your affirmation...it really helps
Lin
I've been thinking of you often my friend.
I cried reading this too.
Grief is a strange thing in that you rarely grieve over one thing. There are usually layers and facets to the the main grief that disallows a simple emotional catharsis. You've lost your mom but you've also lost your childhood home - your identity of being OF that place, not just FROM that place. You've lost the little anchors that keep you attached in tiny ways to childhood and family. You lose the identity of daughter and lover of the mother that has no equal outlet.
Grief isn't linear. There's no timeframe that we can assign to ourselves. That's what makes people uncomfortable. We are given a limited amount of time to grieve in a way that affects our daily life. We're allowed to feel sad and remember, but for it to affect us and spill over onto others is not acceptable for long.
Embracing grief seems to be more painful but in the end you touch it all, feel it all, explore all the surfaces until it's known and familiar, not frightening. Allow yourself to feel. You owe it to you and to your mom as well.
This doesn't mean you have to fall apart or wallow in a deep mudpit. It just means allowing yourself the right to truly feel what you are feeling and validating those feelings.
gioia
Post a Comment