Blue Day
So I am chatting to The Girl on the phone and she says, "So how are you feeling?" and I say quickly, as every mother throughout history always says to her children, "I'm fine. FINE." And she says, "Well, that's good." And then she adds, my darling Girl-Woman-Child, "You know you don't have to be, don't you?"
And here I am on this glorious blue and golden Easter afternoon, quietly enjoying the freedom of not having to be fine. Instead I am being tired and fragile and grieving a little for the hopes I had for a forever-family home, and being a little wobbly and shaky about the decision to leave. Of course it is too late to change my mind, but it's never too late for a good dollop of self-doubt, is it? And in my mind's eye there are children climbing the pear tree and swinging in the hammock and shrieking in the cubby house and building castles in the sandpit. As Lucinda said in the comments on the last post, "I am sure the Germans have a word for the feeling of moving forward while still feeling sad at good byes, they are good at those words." Exactly. Whatever that word is, that is what I am feeling today. But also feeling okay about not being so completely fine as I like to let on.
So thank you, my darling girl, for your gift, which I am taking with both hands, and will try to remember to give freely in turn - the gift of making a little space in which those that we love can be sad when they need to be.
Comments
Life does seem to be a series of ongoing goodbyes, doesn't it? Enjoy and revel in your upset feelings, that's life and the difficult times are - I reckon - as important as the smooth sailing times. It would be a terrible world if everyday was free from uncertainty and was all milk and honey. I don't reckon many things are forever.
A certain Archdruid once remarked that in between all of the dramas and uncertainties of the past era's people still lived, loved and basically got on with the business of life and living. That sounds like a good philosophy.
PS: I made about half a years supply of passata this evening (for the first time) and it is almost the same as your recipe which I really appreciated reading. Tidy work. Do you still make the passata?
Cheers
Chris
Chris, you are right, we wouldn't learn and grow without experiencing the down times as well as the good times. Yes, I did make some passata a few weeks ago, but not as much as I would have liked to. Ah well, there is always next year, when I won't be moving in the middle of tomato season. Well done on your mammoth passata project!
You are going to love this next part of your life, and the challenge of it! That is just you!
The Girl is a treasure.
And thanks for the lovely blue and green photo. So soothing.
Pam
I keep old seed catalogs handy so that I can tear off a page to put potato peelings, etc. on and also be entranced by the offerings on each page (such torture!) and what was on the page that I just pulled off - sorghum! Must be another hint . . .
Pam
Yes, the sorghum - bought some from my local wholefoods shop, who were cleverly marketing it by displaying a tub of adorable tiny sorghum popcorn on the counter. We went home and popped the sorghum grain in our popcorn popper, and what do you know, it DOES make miniature popcorn! So much fun..
Every change is a loss - that makes for too many losses, doesn't it?? It takes a LOT of energy, I think, to keep sailing on into the future as the things and people we were not finished loving drift away behind. I get tired of it. It seems disloyal, also, to the things that were, to be too enthusiastic about the new future. You can tell I'm straddling the fence myself, can't you?
there is so much space in our hearts and lives for change; we just don't realise it at the time.
but you're allowed to be tired and teary, too.
xx
Dar, I love your rant. You are right. Being a person who feels is actually a good thing. Thank you:)
Gretchen Joanna, YES to that beautiful sentence - "It takes a LOT of energy, I think, to keep sailing on into the future as the things and people we were not finished loving drift away behind." Oh, I hear a lot of your pain in that. It is a gift, you know, to be able to share your painful times in such a gentle and kind way. Thank you xx
Meg, yes, it is a home, and it is where all the children have grown up, and it feels like I am saying goodbye to all their childhoods..
e, thanks, yes, space to let a new life begin. A bit scary..
Let the adventure begin. We are all along for the ride.
Your daughter has much wisdom. I have have used her line when talking with people who were trying to hold it together. And now I have used Dar's line on myself. It is amazing we get some help/advice/wisdom from our blogging friends.