I guess I had conveniently forgotten about my mother’s dying wish – for Julie and I to learn beadworking.
It was one of the first days our entire family was in North Battleford after the diagnosis and time in Saskatoon. amm was still speaking at the time although she was quickly declining and sleeping more and more. Anth, Julie, Nick and I had been at the house while dad was with amm. When we returned to the hospital amm was sleeping but Charles greeted us with great excitement. “Look!! Look”!!” He had written down what amm had been saying while we were away. Her words were becoming less and less, and we knew that when she spoke, it was something of significance that she wanted us to know. “Anne-Marie told me that she wanted Kirsten and Julie to learn beadworking!!” Silence from Julie and myself. Now although this would be a lovely art form to master, Julie and I probably wouldn’t put it at the top of our priority list. We replied, “Yah…sure….sounds good…beadworking.”
Later, after Charlie’s excitement settled down and we were by ourselves, Julie and I discussed, with humour of course. “Beadworking? Like c’mon mom. Why couldn’t your dying wish have been ‘Julie and Kirsten will travel to Greece together.’”? [Julie and I have always dreamed of Greece…] Even though I had no interest in this task, I was compelled to do something about it because it was amm’s wish. I thought about it…and then other bits of life consumed me and I never gave it any thought until…
I was at Fort Edmonton Park with Stacey and her two daughters and Arrine last week. The girls were going from building to building when we walked into one and I saw this:
And I actually said out loud, “Sh*t. Beadworking.” Because it was then I remembered amm’s wish and my lack of fulfilling it. However, amm didn’t put a timeline on this request AND seeing this reminder at the Fort had me think of other creative ways to achieve this desire of amm’s…but that’s for another post at a later date.
I don’t interpret this reminder as a scolding from Mommy Merle, but a mere reminder that she is with me…and mother’s never forget…and they are all-knowing. 🙂
I’m purging. amm loved to have purging sessions, whether it was purging the fridge or her closet or the things that collected in the storage area under the stairs. There’s a sense of newness and release and readiness that comes with purging.
So I am purging people – those in my life who don’t bring in positive or those who are more exhausting than rejuvenating. And I am purging plants.
I have been holding onto these dead African violets because I wasn’t ready to let go. I wasn’t ready to purge them. They were Baba’s and then amm gave them to me and then I had them at my office and then I killed them. But I kept telling myself I would find time to bring them back to healthy, blossoming violets. Today I finally admitted that I will never do such a thing and they are now in my garbage.
I’m not going to throw out people too, or necessarily tell these people I am purging them. 🙂 I just have created a new attitude for these people – I don’t f’ing care. I’ve been trying it out lately and it works quite well! I’m normally one who is hypersensitive to other’s feelings and emotions and how I may have caused them. But I am over that, at least in situations where the other party is being completely irrational or just plain mean. I just think, “Let them get all worked up. I don’t have the desire to become involved in that.” And that’s it. I move on. Easy.
I think the definition of purge is exactly what I am doing with my life right now. amm’s helping me purge.
purging present participle of purge (Verb)
Remember The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society? This is the book I received two copies of shortly after amm passed away and we decided to use one copy as a sharing copy.
Each person was to read the book, pass it on to a friend after writing their name in the cover and tell them amm’s story. The last time I tracked it down, a friend of Nick’s cousin Natalie had the book. Since then I have lost touch with it.
Finding out who has this book now is really important to me. I’m asking each of you who may have any idea of whose hands it may be in to help me find where amm’s copy of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society is…
Here are some links to past posts about this book…
Life is catching up with me. Work. Home. Friends. Being a mother. Cat. Life. I’ve felt this for a while now, just the inability to feel caught up. And I constantly find myself questioning how I can simplify my life, but I don’t have the answer yet.
And it’s been a while since I have been really weepy, but on Sunday night I had a good cry and started to blog about it, but couldn’t find the words, or the reasoning behind why I was writing. Never before have I thought about what my readers would want to read. But this time I caught myself second guessing myself – Who wants to read about me crying again? So I stopped writing.
Today I was crying throughout the day but this post isn’t about my tears. It’s about the simpleness of a girl missing her mom.
Tonight has been emotionally exhausting. And I’ve lost someone I never wanted to lose. And even though I have had a devoted friend guide and support me over these last few years, what I really need is…
to cuddle up in my mom’s arms, have her slowly run her fingers over my hair and hear her whisper, “Everything will be ok, Princess Kae.”
I’ve mentioned before how Grandpa Charlie was successful with Arrine having a sleepover at his condo. Well they did it again. And again, it was a success. He always says how Arrine is such a sweetheart and so well behaved and he loves having the time with her. And Arrine has no complaints either. Maybe because sleepovers with Grandpa always include him cooking her her favourite meal – shrimp and noodles – and trips to his pool, visits to the playground, treats from Tim Hortons & Dairy Queen and shopping! The last time Nick picked her up she had a new dress and hairband!
On Sunday Nick and I got to golf together while Grandpa Charlie was with Arrine the majority of the day. When I was expressing our thank-yous and gratitude to him for helping us out he just said that he loves to be with Arrine. And how him and mom had talked before she died and how they had planned to do this once they moved to Edmonton. Help out with the grandkids however they could.
Grandpa Charlie said that this is what Grandma Anne-Marie would have been wanting to do and loving it so…he’s just doing the job of two.
amm made a jellied salad – green jello and cauliflower – I never tried it once.
Over In Killarney is a lullaby that I mostly remember my dad singing to me. But when Arrine was first born it was that song that I would sing to her. Our version is very condensed, but it’s still a sweet song. And when I sang the lyrics about the mother, the tears would flow. It was those first few days, weeks, months that I longed for my mom the most, being a new mother myself. So I would sing to Arrine the lullaby and cry. But it somehow made me feel closer to my mom.
Recently Arrine has actually been asking me to sing Over In Killarney. And tonight she sang along. In her dear, sweat, innocent, little girl voice. And it was a moment we shared together. And I cried.
Tears for being blessed with a beautiful daughter. Tears for missing my beautiful mother.
Over in Killarney Many years ago, Me Mither sang a song to me In tones so sweet and low. Just a simple little ditty, In her good ould Irish way, And l'd give the world if she could sing That song to me this day. Chorus: "Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don't you cry! Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Irish lullaby." Oft in dreams I wander To that cot again, I feel her arms a-huggin' me As when she held me then. And I hear her voice a -hummin' To me as in days of yore, When she used to rock me fast asleep Outside the cabin door.
I am letting go.
Trisha described to me visualizing the “things” that I am holding on to like a balloon with many strings attached. These are the things in my life that I should be letting go. Not the positive things I have grasped on to.
And as the balloon floats above me, each time I cut a string, or that tie, I get closer to seeing the balloon float higher and out of sight. Taking away whatever I am still clutching, fearful of losing it.
I have fewer and fewer strings…
Soon that balloon will be out of sight.
Here is the second book by David Bouchard. He is a dear friend to Marlene and he is also connected to Nick’s parents as well. I feel overwhelmed by all I could write about him and his history and the connection to amm. But that is for another day…
amm had already owned this book, but now I have my own copy. And so does Arrine.