Tuesday, February 1, 2011


So much imagery relating to circles.  Expressions and sayings and explanations using a simple circle.

Collars and wedding rings all reflecting on the way we 2 are united and flow into a mystical one-ness.

Wagon trains circling the wagons for safety, better to keep everyone within the circle away from harm.

The family circle, that place where we are supposed to be safe and united in the bosom of love.

How about the great circle of life which can be quite joyous and quite sad by turns?

These thoughts float through my head as I meditate upon the comings and goings of friends and loved ones, the changes and twists and turns of our lives that see us happy and contented upon a plain of life, and then take us to places of despair.  And it seems we will  be in the darkness forever, while it seems as if the places of light will last forever. In truth neither one does last, but flows, in the blink of an eye, into the next passage of life.  The circle continues and flows.

The seasons of life that allowed me to experience a vibrant and decisive and intelligent mother are passing into another season of alzheimers.  The comings and goings of my mom can be challenging to experience.  I never know who I will speak to when I call.  When she' s there, I want to weep with the joy of having my mom back, and just bask in her presence.  She has such insight and keen intelligence, always helping me to make sense out of the world.  But when she's not there, I want to sob with the pain of loss.   Mostly I ache for her, for her awareness that she is diminished and frustrated and trapped and feels a victim by her physical limitations and her mental failings.  I do think I would be somewhat comforted if she were completely away, and not suffering with the knowing that she's lost.  At the same time, I don't want to lose my mom.  Not ready for it.  At all.  No one asked me if this was OK.  And it's not.

My Dad's life was here one moment and gone the next, and it staggered me.  The shock took long to wear off, and foundations of my life were almost destroyed.  He was young, I was young, there was no warning.  No time to prepare.  It took so very long to heal, I guess I still am healing, but it's much better now, even though I'll never not miss him.  And I don't know how this prolonged, protracted going away will take with Mom, I don't know how much she will have to suffer, nor how her actual passing will be.  I suspect very different than the feelings I had when Dad died, I suspect there will be a feeling of relief and gratefulness that she is no longer fighting and suffering.

All in all this circle thing can suck.

OK, not really.

Look at how it brings blogging friends back who've been away!  That's good, very good.  I believe it is the wisdom of such friends that ultimately help me through some of the darkness.  The universe is so very good to provide just what we need, from the "pen" (ok make that keyboard) of real time strangers who are virtual friends.  So often we blog and have no idea (NONE at all) of how our words will grow in the heart of another.  And that is such a gift to strangers - willingness to share your heart here, so that I (someone you've never met face to face) may read it and gain wisdom and strength and courage for her own journey.  Talk about a circle.

So I may be in for a bumpy ride for some years to come with Mom, and I thank you in advance, for the words you will nurture me with without even knowing it.  I thank you for writing as you are led -not knowing how that will touch others, because I know it will touch me as it has in the past.

And we come full circle.  Again.



  1. You know I understand your experience with your mother, dealing with it myself with my grandmother. I've learned to try to make the most of the good days, and to just let the less than good days go.

    Think of you often beautiful. Much love and hugs xxx

  2. The slow "going away" that is Alzheimer's is both painful and soft... They slip from us bit by bit, and we wonder that we can't follow and lead them home somehow. There were so many painful moments in the loss of Tom's mother, and then there were the funny, odd moments when she spoke truth from wherever it was that her mind took her. She taught us to love without expectation; to simply be where she was able to be on any given day -- and then, in the end, to rejoice in the time we'd had.

    I hope your final journey with your mom has enough sweet moments to leaven the pain.

    Hugs, swan