Comments on: Days of Whine and Roses

By: Joie

Joie — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 02:31:15 +0000

I haven’t been by in a while so am catching up. Just been too busy for blogs. This is the first picture I have seen of your father and he looks every bit like someone you would miss. His spirit seems to emanate from this shot. And your little boy? Spitting image. What a gift, a sometimes painful reminder, but a gift.

And yeah, that’s a damned fine wig.

By: Kathy U

Kathy U — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 17:04:16 +0000

Oh dear, here I am again with some words from my heart.

Ms C, I agree that you have some issues with grief and I suppose they could be described as having trouble moving through grief but I don’t think that is the issue. Sit down and remember that I do keep reading your blog because I do like you.

Ms Chicken, I think you hide behind your grief. When your life gets hard, when you find yourself behind the eight ball on deadlines or with too many days left in the month after the paycheck has been spent – you come back to your dad’s death, your sadness, how much you miss him.

I don’t have a book that tells me what I am supposed to believe happens when people depart this life but my own belief (mainly because it makes me feel good about my mom who died almost 15 years ago) is that the love of those who loved us remains within us and that love is reflected in you by the way you live your life.

My guess your dad would not want you to be sad because he is gone. He probably would like you to take the best of the lessons he taught you (work ethic, kindness, sense of humor, family values, traditions, unspoken words, caring, self worth, whatever) remember where they came from and use them as a model for your life. In doing that you pass them on to your kids. I believe this is how you honor the lives of the loved ones who have died in your life. Do I miss my mom? Yep. But I have taught my daughter, who didn’t get to know her grandma long enough, how to knit, the silly songs I used to sing, how to love others, how to forgive, how to stand up for herself and take pride in who she is, how to be appropriate in a fancy place, to take responsibility for her actions, and a bunch more things that I can not think of right now. I have also shared with her who taught me things. My mom.

Oh, remember I am not trying to be mean and I am not a resident of the city where you live. I am just a woman with an absolutely remarkable daughter who is close to your age. She too has a young family and the struggles that young families face and she is doing okay.

Ms Chicken, so are you and I think your dad would think so too.

Question: Why were you 70% bald?

By: Mrs. Chicken

Mrs. Chicken — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 14:27:19 +0000

@Aimee, thank you. It means the world that you are still here.

xoxoxo

By: Aimee Greeblemonkey

Aimee Greeblemonkey — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 03:56:52 +0000

Not sure what to say honey, except we all love you and want to make the journey with you, if that’s possible. Whatever form it takes.

By: mayberry

mayberry — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 03:12:34 +0000

Gah. Effing perspective, right? Your dad's smile in that picture is just gorgeous. mayberry’s last blog post..My kind of spring cleaning

By: Don Mills Diva

Don Mills Diva — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 01:46:11 +0000

I hear that voice all the time. All the time. I sooo wish you were going to BlogHer - I'd really like to buy you a drink or three... Don Mills Diva’s last blog post..Sunshine on a cloudy day

By: Katherine

Katherine — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 23:05:14 +0000

I have a picture sitting on a side table in my living room. It was taken right after my first chemo treatment. I had cut my hair short in anticipation of the baldness to come. The next chapter of my life promised to be a difficult one but in some ways it was the easiest time I had ever known. I had chemo every two weeks. It was grueling and sickening and occasionally felt completely pointless. I thought to myself, “I’m not special or interesting or destined for success so why bother?” All of that didn’t matter much because I had a schedule to keep. Things were planned out and in some ways that plan (along with God) carried me through when I had used up all my faith for the day. I could keep going because I had days to cross off my calendar and a graduation date for my school of hard knocks (or so I thought). I look at that picture of myself hugging my sister and looking so happy I can’t believe that was me. Almost six years later I have an amazing husband, wonderful children and everything I need but I spend 90% of my time worrying. Life is easier when you have a playbook in hand. Hang in there and try to remember that you are special and interesting and destined for success. How do I know? You’re a mom to two great kids and if they are the only success you ever see you will have conquered the world. That doesn't mean you need to stop feeling and writing what you feel though. I say "hang in there" because I support you, but I am thankful to hear your voice and know I'm not the only one. Katherine’s last blog post..Good Morning to Me

By: mamatulip

mamatulip — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 19:23:15 +0000

I wish I could come up with the right words, but I can’t. I hope it helps to know I’m thinking of you.

By: The Redheaded Lefty

The Redheaded Lefty — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 17:17:48 +0000

I so get this. Hang in there—these times of uncertainty don’t last forever. And this weather? In the Midwest. Not helping.

By: cathy

cathy — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 07:07:36 +0000

I see three beautiful, vibrant people there. I love that photo.

Long ago, I shut down my “brand” and online journal because of how people were responding to me and the fear I felt.

If you ever feel like corresponding about that, just pop over and say hello.

I’m not sure if I’m safer now in this new form. Maybe. Maybe it’s just my current real-life circumstances that help me feel less afraid.

However, I suffered those years when I was not writing and sharing online. Journaling privately is good for some things. Sharing aloud gives us something else.

cathy’s last blog post..oats