var ccOptions = {
align: 'right'
};
function _initCulturalCreatives() {
var script = document.createElement('script');
script.setAttribute('type', 'text/javascript');
script.setAttribute('src', ("https:" == document.location.protocol ? "https://" : "http://") + "culturalcreatives.cc/assets/js/widget-min.js");
document.getElementsByTagName('head')[0].appendChild(script);
}
_loadMod = window.onload;
window.onload = (typeof window.onload != 'function') ? _initCulturalCreatives : function() { _loadMod(); _initCulturalCreatives(); };
24 May 2012
that was the year
that was the year when my brother got arrested and all of us were stunned in that kind of what? in the world? it's impossible! kind of stunned that stopped me fast yanked me down and took my breath away and made me whisper to my girlfriend that the only way that the word brother goes with the word jail is if he was visiting one to volunteer. shows how much I knew that year. the year that my daughter went away to college and all I could do was cry not sweet motherly tears but heaving sobs with my nose running and my eyes swollen red that embarrassed everyone around including me but I couldn't stop and carried on like that just like that for weeks even when I went to a couple's weekend with my husband to talk and I couldn't because all I could do was wail at the loss of my daughter. that year my mother died when there should never be a year when a mother dies six weeks after being diagnosed with something that had treatment protocols described by the doctor for me to tell her about so she could decide which one to choose and instead she died and I just wasn't ready to not have her in my life in my daughter's life and to figure out what to do with the hole in my heart which they had no treatment protocols for or even told me about so I could prepare for until there it was and it felt like it was the whole of me this hole where I used to have a whole heart and I stood there without my mother who always took care of things like that like family heart holes and I had to figure out what to do myself alone that year. that year I got fired from my profession can I get fired from my profession? which they think is just a job and I had never been fired before and where do they get those ridiculous euphemisms like downsizing and rightsizing when it's down alright I mean I was down but it's not right no matter what size they say it is without me and it wasn't a job it was my professed profession since I was three and I was so immobilized really unable to move that I had to go to a healer to get healed because I couldn't just couldn't move and I had a hole in my heart and it wasn't the kind of healing you have to chat about at a coffee klatch it was the kind that fills heart holes gets limbs moving and saves your life. that year that was the year.
This was posted in response to the prompt: Stream-of-Consciousness Writing by Victoria Slotto in Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft over at the dVerse Poets Pub.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
whew...i ran out of breathe somewhere along the way in that...so much loss i was developing a bit of a hole in my own heart...and aching with you...
ReplyDeletePart of my surviving that year was all about my breath which is the same word as spirit in some languages.
DeleteThat was a lot to have to cope with. I so know how you feel about the hole in your heart when you lost your mother. My mum was also one of my best friends, she never, ever judged me. She died just two days before what would have been her 56th birthday. No-one even knew she was ill. It was so sudden and, such a huge shock. Yes, it felt as if someone had reache din a ripped a huge chunk out of my heart and left a wide gaping wound that would never heal. It takes a lot of coming to terms with and finally, acceptance of it. I can understand your crying so much over your daughter leaving for college too. She left the nest, your routine was changed forever.
ReplyDeleteYes, a lot of coming to terms with in all of this.
The similar relationship in its wake is the one with my daughter as an adult but oh the process...
DeleteA wondrous glimpse into your life...some of which I identify with (such as the age and being "downsized" from my profession--and who downsized nurses unles their "older")? The way you wrote this, almost as a rant, does a great job of emphasizing the stream-of-conscious writting.
ReplyDeleteIt was ageism alright and it was so disconnecting. It ended up throwing me back on the question of what I really wanted to do which ended up being a blessing but like I said, oh the process...
DeleteGood grief, I didn't edit my comment very well, did I?!
ReplyDeleteIt is s of c isn't it?
DeleteThis was very touching and brave, really admirable. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteWow. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThanks for coming by and taking the time to read it, Linda.
Delete"Touching and brave" does seem like the perfect description of this. A wonderful piece about a very painful time.
ReplyDeleteI had tears in my eyes even recalling it.
DeleteThere is a lot of pain that you're sharing and you're very brave to do that. That is something I wish I could do more freely.
ReplyDeleteIt all came rushing out so fast I could hardly write fast enough.
DeleteWow is right. I am amazed at what comes out all at once when one does this exercise in writing. I bet it felt good to get this all on paper, and I bet it was sort of surprising to you to see what you had written. Your pain is spilling over in this piece. How did you survive it all?
ReplyDeleteI'm amazed as well and surprised at the sting of it still. It was my first time going to a therapist/healer and she did heal me.
DeleteOf course you were a psych nurse! This is a superlative representation of S-o-C writing. I thought I'd already commented on this, but then, you're in Europe and probably just waking up as I'm going to bed. Hope to see more of you! Oh, I see my previous comments are listed under "Home"--ha! Victoria
ReplyDeleteUnder whatever heading, I appreciate your comments and like having a kinship in these two worlds of mine.
DeleteI've changed all my prejudiced views about S of C having read your wonderful piece of writing, and am now a devoted fan!
ReplyDeleteThanks, it actually was a helpful form for this kind of sharing.
DeleteA lot of challenges and pain I can relate to ~ Thanks for sharing this with us ~
ReplyDeleteSome of it is the universal experience we have as humans, some parts were particular but not unique.
DeleteOh my goodness...that year was just too much..why is it we have to have so much heaped on top of us sometimes. Your daughter leaving really touched that mother heart inside of me. It's so difficult to adapt to not having them around after being so involved for so long. So glad that the healer could help you find your equilibrium again. Great writing..I appreciate you sharing.
ReplyDeleteShe's my one and only and one loss taps into all others, so....
DeleteWhat a horrible year. So glad that you found a healer to help you through it. Must have been so painful to write this, but hopefully also medicinal. A brave write, and a good one. *hugs*
ReplyDeleteI honor her and the remarkable change that comes from healing.
DeleteA breath-taking account of a horrible year and so brave to share. Hugs from me too.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
Hugs are nice, even virtual ones.
DeleteTook my breath away too...what a year! Such a great write and wrenching to read.
ReplyDeleteI found myself holding my breath even as I wrote it.
DeleteThis rips at your heart. Incredible write.
ReplyDeleteThanks. A dear friend told me at that time to just show up, pay attention, tell the truth and let go of the outcome. It became my mantra that helped get me through.
Deleteand they say it makes us stronger - what a year hey Mary - had one of those in 2010 - lost my Dad who too was my mainstay - still cn't believe - went into total shock - we can never 'be ready' can we ? - I so know that heart - wrung out - within a couple of months my youngesgt daughter was to be grossly assaulted in worst possible kind - a huge police investigation - and no Dad to support - the Dad who I saw every day for the whole of my life - lost my Mother in law - I can so relate to children leaving the nest - haivng to find out who you are again - so much change too much change - remember seeing the sun shing through the window - and hanging on to it's beam - it's all you can do - Sharing Huge Hugs ((((((((((((())))))))))))))) Love Lib
ReplyDeleteAll we can hope is that our heartbreak breaks out heart open. It's the source of our compassion.
DeleteThis is beautifully written and painful to read, as it should be. I had to re-read parts to understand and keep going to know it is stream of conscience even though I'm an English Lit grad and love the genre.
ReplyDeleteWhat I like most is the exercise itself brings out thoughts buried, unexpressed and in ways you might not have expressed had you the time to reflect.
Wonderful job. Terrible year.
So true; the challenge itself brought forth the rush, as if my hands held the wisdom somehow.
Deletethat was one heck of a year. and no matter for the growing, pain is pain and it is difficult to bear. but i am glad you did. i am glad you did.)))
ReplyDeletexo
erin
What a sweet thing to say- thank you. I'm deeply grateful too.
DeleteOh, what truths you tell! Pain wounds us, but allows us to look deep into our soul too. You did. You gained awareness and understanding, and words to tell about it.
ReplyDeleteI thought I had had tough times before, but last year -throughthis- year is the worst.
This is a remarkably beautiful write!
I've watched and, I hope, supported you through this worst year. It's all we can do- witness, have compassion, hold the space for healing and hope. You'll do that for someone else after this in a whole new way. But, oh the process to get there!
DeleteAh ha! thank you for the insight Mary, you may have been down but not out, I now see the root of your compassion and understanding, and feel and know the great siesmic effort it took when your world was rocked from the very core from all the impossible things actually happening, ALL at once to you.
ReplyDeleteI managed the turn it around when my mother died, and I managed to make positive moves when my daughter started living part time with her dad and partner, but im afraid when my husband died and my daughter went to uni and i had to leave the family home all in a matter of a 3 months, I crumpled, and now turning it around really only means surviving each day, each week each month.
Sometimes when the losses are so close together we don't have the spirit to cope and we get felled by it all. Surviving is step one, later, with help, comes the thriving. My heart goes out to you. The loss of a spouse in the mix you describe seems unimaginable. When I felt like I was drowning, I turned to my dear friend, Annee, who said all I had to do was: show up, pay attention, tell the truth, let go of the outcome. I put those on my refrigerator and read them each day. I thought: "I can do that." It gave me the hope I needed. Then I found a healer. Blessings on you.
Delete