Hello, dear ones! I wrote the following with pencil and paper, and I wanted to transcribe/share it with you this afternoon on The Ro Fo Sho. Part of it was written with structure and part of it was written freely as the thoughts flowed through me. I hope y'all enjoy my ramblings today!
I've sat down in front of my laptop several time with the intention of writing on my blog, but the words have not come to mind. I realize it's because of the noises and distractions in my parent's home; but I also feel like my mind, heart, and soul are filled and spilling over with thoughts, ideas, memories, and more! And so I'm overwhelmed by the excess and jumble and can't seem to organize them in a way that's enjoyable to write or read. But! When I pick up my notebook and a freshly sharpened pencil, rather than a screen and keyboard, there is a different kind of connection between all the ramblings in my head and my pencil to paper. Here I am on my parent's back deck (which was Grandma's for years), soaking up the sunshine and finally nice weather! The sky is almost clear and beautiful blue and the breeze is gentle and soothing with the occasional whoosh amidst the whispering between the branches and leaves that still cling to them. It is a genuine peacefulness here, and as I write I keep pausing just to enjoy this special kind of feeling...
I stopped, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes; I just listened to the sounds around me and relished the touch of the wind. I spoke out loud to Grandma. No need to share my words to her with anyone, but the experience is something to indulge in with writing. It feels so comfortable and natural to still talk to her; her voice remains clear in my head and simply remembering how it felt to hug her is almost a tangible feeling I can still cherish. The tears continue to spill in my quiet moments with Grandma in my thoughts, but they're more for missing instead of grieving. I have described it many times as an uncomfortable peace...I feel a relief that she is without pain and suffering, but her absence is very much an emptiness....the feelings kind of scrape against each other I guess you could say. I remember writing a while ago about needing more time, and how that's what everyone desires as any end approaches. Here's my "nerdyness" showing through, but I actually thought of one of my favorite TV shows Doctor Who (most favorite probably...honestly!). The tenth Doctor, played by David Tennant, has the opportunity to check in with companions and friends of his time before regenerating, and expresses over and over again, "I don't want to go."
The last time I saw Grandma, before those final moments, I hugged her again and again as I was saying goodbye, and I remember my last embrace with her. In my mind, with sorrow, I allowed the thought to form clearly, "This could be the last time I get to hug her." Following it was "I don't want to go."
On Sunday morning I start my drive back to my home in Florida. I've pushed this departure back a few times, and during this time outside with sunshine and wind, pencil and paper, I understand the difficulty in leaving. I don't want to go. I have the comfort of family...I don't want to go. I have the familiarity of my hometown...I don't want to go. I have memories here and all over this town and state with my grandma...I don't want to go! Grandma would say...
"Then don't!" and she would laugh.
"I wish, but I have to!" and I would pout.
"I know sweetie...but we know we'll see each other again soon!" she would respond with optimism; and we would hug one more time but with the comfort of knowing we had something to look forward to...
Grandma's spirit will be with me always and wherever I may go.
Let your minds, hearts and souls be open, dear ones.
Hugs and love, my lovelies!