Thursday, October 05, 2017

Journeying ....

So, it's been a while since I sat down to write a post here on my original blogging platform... it's going to be 13 years old in November... that's pretty crazy to me. I often come over and just click on random dates from the archive, just to see what I was up to at the time... 
I used to be such a regular blogger early on, but over the last few years it just seems to have dropped off, and I've only written a post when I really felt I had something profound or memorable to say. 
It has always been a way of regularly connecting with people I guess.. whereas, I now have my Instagram for that... plus, IG is a lot less work, emotionally :P

It's Spinzilla time again, and I wanted to read back and make a note of my last two years totals, and then I clicked on the posts from October 2014 

I was like "Wow... these last three years have gone by so fast" ... and honestly, not a day goes by when I don't think about the whole dreadful mess.

Yep... I am still grieving. 

But it's not sadness... and it's taken me 3 years to realise that it's totally okay for me not to feel a personal sadness at the loss of my mother. 

I attended boarding school from the age of 11, going straight to University at 18,  so I learned at an early age how to be emotionally self sufficient... how not to "need" anyone.
The sadness I do feel, if any, is the loss of time. Time that my parents could have spent with their grandchildren in particular, sharing their achievements with them... and of course, I feel a great sadness for my father... he's lost his "person".

What's more relevant to me is the angry stage, and according to Elizabeth Kubler-Ross it's a common problem to get stuck in one phase... at this point, 3 years in, I feel like I'll be stuck in this cycle forever, as there was no opportunity for any kind of closure, my mothers death was so sudden. She does say that getting stuck in an active state, such as anger, is more difficult, and that in itself sums me up perfectly :P

So difficult! I kinda embrace this quality though...

My mother hid her illness from me (and to a certain extent, from my father also) as I live 4 hours away from Barrow, and we really only saw them both at Christmasses... so it was easy enough for her to do.  Faking it runs in the family.

There's two conflicting viewpoints here, isn't there... the fact she hid it because she wanted me to not have to worry and have my life disrupted, or, she was afraid she'd lose control of her journey.

I remember the awful last days of my beloved (maternal) Grandfathers life, he too was taken quickly... the invasion of doctors and the impersonal, white noise of the hospital... the lack of control he had over his destiny. I know she would have hated this for herself, and I think that was a big reason she disguised her illness.

I wrote in my Eulogy that: 

"My Mum was a homebird. She wrapped her house around her like a protective shield from the world, and treasured it's comfort and order. The house was always spotless, and everything had a specific 'home'."

She wanted to reach her final destination at home, and it really was a remarkable thing that she achieved her goal, after enduring what must have been months of excruciating pain, with no medication stronger than what she had for her everyday aches and pains.

I guess what I am trying to say, is that I would never have interfered with this, partly because I wouldn't have dared... but also, I'd like to think I would have respected her decision.

The anger stems from the fact that I was never given a choice as to whether I shared her journey or not... which is in itself totally selfish... and this is my bad.

Along with all the negativity in the last 3 years, there's also been a fair amount of positivity too. The most important thing for me, and my family, is that I have been able to learn how to share how I feel a lot more, and to not be afraid to reach out. 
This was not an easy road to travel, believe me. 
Learning to trust people with my feelings was extremely hard, and letting them inside my soul took time.
I used to think that being emotionally self sufficient from an early age was a good thing, but it isn't. 

If you don't let people in, you deny yourself so much love and support.

Thankyou to my wonderful friends, my TRIBE. 
Without you, I don't think I would be here, able to write this blog. 
Thankyou for being there at 5am when I was completely falling apart... I do not know what I would have done without you.

The biggest thanks though, has to go to my person. 

Thankyou for staying around when you could, very easily, have said "Enough" ... I know it's not been easy, living with an angry shadow of the woman you love. 

Hopefully... the shadows are getting shorter...



5 Comments:

Blogger Freyalyn Close-Hainsworth said...

Hugs and love, sweetie - you are a lovely person and we love you. It's hard to rise above and through these things, but we do. Eventually.

Spin on.

6:28 AM  
Blogger ambermog said...

Love you and your honesty Sarah, you are one of the bravest people I know as well as one of the most inspiring. And I know the effects of loss well:(

9:23 AM  
Blogger Lorna Potter said...

💕💖💗💙💚💛💜💟 to you.

9:33 AM  
Blogger TutleyMutley said...

ooo painful. Exposing the hurt. I'm pleased for you that your bruises are fading/shadows shortening: but have a hug from me also. Everyone has a story to tell.
Aren't we lucky to have our own supportive tribes? XXX

I can remember (before RAvelry) when all the knitters/spinners I knew blogged. I MET so many of them through blogs...

11:21 AM  
Blogger Lottie Jackson said...

So proud to be part of our tribe. It has been a rough journey at times over the years but we have held together strong and well will stay together solidly forever. ❤

9:45 PM  

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