I’ve been absent recently. Haven’t we all? Absence is requisite these days. It’s essential to life.
But, absence of self is not the intention. The purposeful and social absence we are experiencing has shown us the importance of distancing from the pressures we have created for ourselves. For the first time since my mother inhabited this neighborhood where I now live, have I known that my neighbors have children, cars, animals…it’s eerily reminiscent of decades prior. Times when we played outside until the sun went down, and hung out in the driveway with family.
This is clearly a self intentioned moment in time. A time to reflect and be peaceful and to relinquish the “must dos” and the “I really shoulds”, and instead to allow oneself permission to simply be.
Absence. Yes, I am absent today. I am not ill. I am not skipping out. I am just absent.
I don’t think I will ever forget…so many, many things. Such every day things that express the most significant moments for me. Cake. Cake makes me cry. She loved cake. And she loved cake every day. Grocery shopping is a very emotional experience these days. There is so much cake in the store. Sandwiches. Sandwiches too. I long to make sandwiches. No crusts of course, and never with mustard, and always with tomatoes, but sandwiches every day. There is no more cake and no more sandwiches every day, and that leaves me with a great sense of emptiness.
I don’t ever want to forget all the little things. The unique expressions she had to describe things, hearing the same story time and again, and learning to appreciate it as if it was the first time that I heard it. If it wasn’t important to her then it probably wouldn’t have come up as often as it did…whatever it was that was worth repeating needed to be repeated. again… and again…probably so that I would always remember. I know that now.
It is hard being left behind when I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, and even in the knowledge that it was near…I am not sure that I would ever be ready even if given the choice of when that was…I don’t want to forget to remember all the things about her. I also hope that someday I won’t cry as often, but that I will begin to feel more joy in the remembrances rather than sadness in the fresh and tender loss. I do understand that we all have a journey of our own and that when that journey is complete, it just is.
Carter Manor is a serene, and yet, complicated place. Where there is regular teatime and the table is always set properly. Patricia, Francis, Harry, Madge and Sean reside at “The Manor” and enjoy and indulge in the offerings afforded daily. The live-in help ensures that all of the residents are well fed and cared for in the manner in which they are accustomed. Breakfast, lunch and dinners of lovely meats, breads, vegetables and fruits are on the menu…and, of course, delectable desserts as desired!