In the pamphlet that the police trauma volunteer left with us there was a page in how to take care of yourself. The first item on the list was light a candle. Pretty simple. I found a beautiful beeswax candle in my mom's stuff and brought it back to my house. Mom passed away a long week ago and the transformations are coming fast.
My daughter and I attempted a little 'light the candle' ritual but we were tired and all we could come up with was "I love you" and then she went back to the tv and I sat in darkness with the candle for awhile. Take care of myself? How does that happen now?
I am still dealing with stuff. I resent it all at times and at other times I am fascinated by every little thing we find. Stuff can get in the way of spirit unless you embrace that spirit is inside stuff. The core of me is steady as the older I get the more I know who I am and just hold onto that. I can take care of myself. My mom wondered what would become of me after she died. I wonder too.
In the river of the feed I find floating around me the debris of lives lived and unlived, honored and defiled. I will survive until I don't. This next phase of my life seems no different than any other time. I am me. I like to think and wonder so any place I find myself is going to be interesting. Even this limbo is a journey. Moving, adapting and then to die. That is what we do.
How many teacups does a family heritage need? The fifties were a time of tea parties and fancy dinners. Some of the casserole dishes go back to my great grandmother. Things need to be honored. I have to take care of myself while I honor this stuff and some of it has to go. We play..."stay or go" all the time. Thank goodness for Goodwill and consignment stores and neighbors.
I accepted an offer on her house today and the movers will come this next week. I take time to rest and we are going swimming in the community pool at mom's today. Time to relax is precious. People annoy me still but I try to be kind to all the ones that reach out to us. So many are needy. So many have sad stories to share. I listen and wonder why they don't take care of themselves better. So many self destruct.
These are the guns mom didn't shoot herself with because it would have been a mess for me to clean up. She didn't want to be a burden and she wasn't and isn't. But I am tired of her stuff. My things are important too and I don't have any guns. I guess I will bury these in the moving containers for the move to Hawaii and I learned I need to register them three days after I get them there as Hawaii has strict gun laws. Fine with me. They are family. I hope I never need them to take care of myself.