Gazing out an airplane window, looking for you

I used to be afraid of flying – never wanted to look out the window.  But, since I lost my precious son – the worst has already happened to me.  I just don’t have the fear anymore.  Maybe I just don’t care – but here I am looking out the window (Sorry, it is a dirty window).  I am looking for you, Son – signs, anything.  Each cloud formation, each ray of sun – I search.  Is that you?   I miss you.

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WildFlower Farewell

I am afraid I do not know the name of this purple flower, but I love the colorful blooms.  It is a hardy, tall fellow – standing up to Virginia drout and sun.  My husband and I sat on our “memory”  bench and enjoyed the last of them

Now there is a huge dragon fly in our living room.  I believe this is a powerful, positive blessing and we will help guide our little visitor safely outdoors.

Casualties of Grief Part 3

Holidays and Parties – for me – are definitely on the casualty list.  I used to love parties and family gatherings.  In the fall, we would always build a huge bond fire and invite family and friends to the farm.  We would eat my husband’s chili, roast hots dogs and marshmallows – just enjoy.

I have not hosted or attended a party since losing my son – I just struggle being around groups of people.  Truthfully, I cannot get “in the mood” to host a party and I don’t want to attend some one else’s party and bring down their mood.

Has anyone else experienced the awkwardness of the grief journey?  The isolation?  When I encounter people, acquaintances who either do not KNOW or I do not see on a regular basis – there is an awkwardness in our interaction.  I can tell it is on their mind and they feel uncomfortable – and I feel uncomfortable.  Conversation just feels “forced”.

Holidays and party days are ahead – AGAIN.  If I muster the courage to accept  invitations, will I would be socializing with people I have not seen since my son’s memorial service?  Will they feel uncomfortable?  Will I be a dark cloud on the party?

I cry privately.  I grieve privately.   I work to always maintain my composure in any public situation.  I do not want to burden others.  What to do?  Go?  Say no?

In a huge hurry

Met a new friend scurrying down my drive way.  Don’t worry.  I gathered my little friend up and moved him to safety.​  As a child, I remember my Mom telling me these little Woolie worms could predict the severity of the weather based on their color.  Can’t remember exactly, if it was black or orange that meant a bad winter.  Maybe it is silly to stop my car to move a little fuzzy caterpillar, but – hey, GOD made caterpillars too – and besides, it is healing to stop and visit with nature for a little while.  The grief is always with me, but moments like this strengthen me.  Does anyone know what kind of little critter this is??