Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Morning Report



Good Lord but it is gorgeous here today. Almost ridiculously so but to balance the universe, the mosquitoes are out in force, humming their super-sonic whine as they come in for attack.
Well, what are you going to do?

When I went to let the chickens out so that they could begin their day's work of scratching in the yard, I saw the male bluebird and his mate on the fence. They are skittish birds and flew away when they saw me. But I am so glad to know they are here. Yesterday I saw a Rose-Breasted Grosbeak and he took my breath away. Also, an Indigo Bunting.
I am getting old. There is no other way to explain my intense interest in the birds these days.
Well, so be it.

Here's another wild-life experience I had yesterday: I killed a squirrel on the way home from town. I swear, I couldn't avoid the little guy who darted out in front of the car. I hate that. I mean, there are billions of squirrels around here but still, I don't like to murder any of them with my vehicle.

I had a different sort of shocking experience last night. Mr. Moon is out of town and I was in bed, all alone in this great big house when I heard a loud, prolonged crash. My heart raced and I pondered my choices as to what to do about this. What I did was to get up and put on Jessie's old bathrobe and grab my phone and do a search of the house. I even went upstairs, expecting to find a piece of ceiling on the floor but I found nothing. Nothing.
It wasn't until I went back to my room that I realized that the mirror in the dining room had fallen and it is a big, heavy mirror and it was on the shared wall between where I'd been in bed and the dining room.  It did not break. It had been my mother's mirror but she gave it to me a long time ago and I remember the same thing happening in the house we lived in before this one but that time there was some wainscoting which came down with it. Nothing was damaged in this fall and we need to get new hanging wires put on it. I would be tempted to attribute the whole thing to my dead mother but she was very much alive the last time it fell and so I refuse to do that.

Have you noticed that I never speak of my mother any more? Or hardly, at least?
Strange, isn't it? I'm not really thinking of her that much, either and when I do, it's with a feeling of almost what I would describe as dispassion. I did dream of her a few nights ago. In my dream she had decided to move out of the assisted living and had driven to my house to inform me of this.
"I am so angry at you," I told her. "Who is going to take care of you? You know you shouldn't be driving. Who is going to buy your groceries and cook for you?"
Even in my dream I knew that was NOT going to be me. It is interesting that I told her I was angry with her because in real life I doubt I ever said those words to her.
I had always wondered what I would feel, how I would feel when my mother died and now I know.
Not much. Some relief.
When the phone rings, I know it's not someone calling to tell me that she's fallen or that she has a rash or that she's nauseous. I know it's not her, calling to tell me that she wants to die.
I believe that relief is a valid emotion to be feeling. And appropriate. And I don't feel guilty. I am, quite frankly, relieved at my relief. Maybe all of those years of therapy did, in fact, help clear some of that shit out of the way. Who knows? Not me. I'm just taking what is and being grateful for it.

Well, I need to get moving. Perfect day for a walk and a survey of the blooming blackberries and then I think I'll work outside. It's way too damn beautiful to be inside.
I am the luckiest woman in the world at this very second. Or at least that's how I feel so for me, it is the truth.

Good morning, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon

10 comments:

  1. I still don't know how I feel about my dead mother and it's been a few years. (Isn't it awful that I can't remember when she died? I think it was 2009.) I know part of me feels liberated, so that's something.

    I just checked the weather and we're due for snow again on Sunday. I'd kill to see a mosquito.

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  2. Even though I was close to my mom I also felt some relief when she died. Cancer was just going on and one and on. Phone calls were always bad news. Even tough she was taken away too soon I am glad she will never have to be old and sick. I don't know. It doesn't make sense.

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  3. I am feeling relief about my MIL. FIL is so frail that I expect him to die any day. He is worn out and just simply tired now. Lingering isn't a good thing. Relief after a lot of sadness.

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  4. There must be some significance to a mirror falling in the dead of night, but I don't know what it might be. And, it didn't break.

    Then again, it might very well just be a mirror that fell in the dead of the night and didn't break.

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  5. heartinhand- I think you feel liberated. I do too. I would happily send you trillions of mosquitoes. And then they would die in the snow and that would be fine with me.

    Birdie- Yep. Confusing. I understand.

    Syd- Lingering is awful. The human body is so damn tough, even when it's old and too frail for life.

    Elizabeth- I'm going with Option B.

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  6. I've missed a few posts in the last week or so... I am looking forward to the Florida one just before this one.

    Glad you are feeling fine and guilt free! That is one of the BEST feelings, when one is free of guilt and also RECOGNIZES it in the moment. At least I think so.

    Continue groovin'
    xo

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  7. I felt relief when my Mom died too. I had spent the last 2 1/2 years as her full time caregiver. We were close, but she was in bad shape and her body worn out. Now over four months later I do feel sad/guilty sometimes, but it usually passes quickly.

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  8. Yes. We work hard on processing things, some of us, but perhaps the only real resolution we can have in our family relationships is when people die and we can be relieved.

    Um, is that a bit dark?! Of course it's not always the case :) But I think it's a good emoption to feel for the death of an elderly relative. It's certainly practical, understandable...

    Your mother BETTER not be haunting you, that would be so passive aggressive of her.

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  9. Ms. Fleur- Well, you know me. I'm only ever "relatively" free of guilt but that's good!

    Gail- I can understand your sadness but I doubt you have any reason at all to feel guilty.

    Jo- That made me laugh. You know me so well.

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    ReplyDelete

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