Yesterday, my sister and I signed on the dotted line. It aches my chest to think of my parent's knoll belonging to anyone else. But change, like the turning heavens, is inevitable and we've no choice other than to comply. Through its wax and wane, comes healing, but in the meantime I surf a wave I'd rather not.
By hand, they built their yellow house from the foundation up...framed and finished with loving care, fueled by the dream of riding out their golden years in peace. And that they did. Twenty long, good ones, spent in quiet contemplation with a front row seat to grazing deer and the whimsical flight of the cardinal. The whisper of the wind through the trees...a symphony for two. And it was upon that narrow breezeway- they held, they shared.
As it grows closer to a finish, tears come quite easily. Today, Patty and I sat under a blanket of heat and salty Bloody Marys as we watched the children swim and the dragonflies dance in the sun. And it was within that quiet we stayed. Thoughts and hearts so intertwined from this painfully, exhausting journey that words seem almost unnecessary now. Whatever void that has been left within the two of us will eventually fill with light again. My mother will see to that.
Meanwhile, the memory of my folks will linger in that forest for some time to come...as tangible as oak bark. The goodness of who they were and how they lived will shine like rays through a morning mist and we will always remember. No matter if we're able to park our car in the driveway or not. Love was their beginning and end. And I am honored to have witnessed, participated and dreamed within it.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
A Domestic Doyenne's Journey Through Mid-Life, Motherhood & Beyond
Posts
2 comments:
Lovely post, Pam. Having lost my mother not too terribly long ago, I can relate on similar levels. I have rather conflicted flashbacks, still not really knowing how I feel. I think that losing a parent is something that nothing in life can prepare you for. I'm thinking about you...<3
Beautiful way of expressing it. I feel so fortunate that we were able to keep their house. My brother and his family own it, but it feels good to walk in knowing they were there.
Post a Comment