Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can’t cry it away or eat it away or starve it away or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. It’s just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.--"Tiny Beautiful Things" by Cheryl Strayed
I left Iowa this morning. My brother and my aunt and uncle drove me to the Twin Cities where I boarded a plane, flew away, rode a shuttle bus, then got delivered to my door by a friend. With every breath I took today, I left my mother farther and farther behind. Now I'm home in my quiet house--the place I once called Margaritaville before it was re-christened Pillville.
My heart is its own pressurized cabin. I can breathe here, yet it feels like the oxygen masks might drop at any moment.
12 comments:
I am sending you love and compassion from the deepest chamber of my heart. It is true we cannot run from suffering, but naming it brings it out of the dark a little. I am thinking of you, my oldest friend. Much love, Kath
You know that we are all with you at this time of breaking free, and that your mother is in a good place amongst people she is comfortable with. You have been just the best daughter over the last few years, and I am sure she knows how much you have done for her and appreciates it, even if she never says so.. Rest and take your ease now, push away the feelings of guilt that you might have, they are not worth feeling... just open your heart to your new adventures... and many more of them...sending hugs and best wishes for a great weekend...and the coming weeks... J
I'm just thankful that your Mom was agreeable to the move. When they're not and there's no other choice, I think it could be unbearable. Now you need to take time for YOU, to just breathe. And in the name of all that's holy, please don't feel guilty! I'm sure she appreciates the love and care you've given, and deep down she knows you're the best martini-making, pill-dispensing, all-around best daughter she could ask for!
Ah Denise. That quote says it all. And this line, "my heart is its own pressurized cabin," stunning. Such complicated feelings now. Sending love.
And to add to what others have said- I know you must have some PTSD or the chronic kind, at least. All the nights spent listening for your mother, hearing her moans, waiting for a fall to happen...
It's not going to be overnight that some bit of peace overtakes you.
You may not be able to run from the suffering but you can get some much-needed rest, you can eat well, you can take your walks on the beach, do your yoga and Tai Chi, visit with friends.
Eventually, you will be able to breathe without thinking of the oxygen masks.
^^ What she said. ❤️
One day at a time. One day at a time.
Ah, but in a way, hasn't she been moving further away from you, to a place where it is harder and harder to reach her? That's how I feel with my Mom lately, anyway. Like she is on her path and I am on mine and after travelling along together for a while I have passed a fork in the road and looked around to find that she is taking the other fork. Many a time I have turned back to fetch her back but that can't go on forever. Life unspools as it will. Know that you have been a great daughter and now it is time to enjoy this adventure called life for yourself.
Best wishes for you at this time. I think of you so often here in my very own Pillville.
-invisigal
"My heart is its own pressurized cabin." Oh Denise!
You are in my heart and thoughts , Denise.
All the best to you. All of this is so hard.
You just waved good-bye lovingly at the back door... and wait--I think I hear Love knocking quietly on the front door....
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