They Are Dropping Like Flies

 

It would seem that one of the lessons of getting older is the normality that is developed in terms of our friends dying. Today I sat here and thought

‘their dropping life flies’.

Past the initial shock there is this thought, another one?  I worry, was there pain? Most of my friends have died off in a tapered style. The system slows down, the drugs put them in a state where  they can’t articulate their thoughts. If they can, we wonder are they actual thoughts or just muddled, free flowing  left over from actual conversations. Are they sentences cut short, incomplete thoughts, blips of the brain.

What I do know is that we are travellers. These bodies that hold us are containers and when that container wears out well PUFFFF we are released. I mean our true essence or if you like our spirit shoots out with great speed and the container is and looks empty. It was only when I first saw this first hand with my husband that I truly understood life and its cycle. Death may be the end of what we can understand but it is not the end of our existence.

So, how do we handle and interact with the friendships we have developed? I think acceptance of the final chapter and continued contact with our friends is a must. For heaven’s sake don’t leave them to end this time in a home or hospital on their own. Family is important, yes but its the family that we have adopted that really must help in the final weeks or months. Who have we confided in? Who have we had many dinners and laughs with? Those who have shared the similar passions.
Certainly I don’t speak for all but for me its about continuing the friendship if we can. Have all the final important conversations if time gives you the opportunity. Tell them how you have enjoyed them in your life. Help them remember crazy and wild times.
I would hope that when my time comes I will be content with my heart and mind. I will lie in my bed and feel the ocean’s breath on my face and listen to the rain dancing on the roof and Claire du lune  playing in the background. These are thoughts of our perceived perfect exit when in fact I will probably die in an accident heheh, there will be no time for reflection of music.

This morning has been a good reflecting morning. Later on I will call my friend again and tell her how much her friendship has effected me. I will speak to her every day till she can no longer take my calls. I am not sad for her final trip for she does not have to pack and remember anything. Can you imagine! To get prepared for a trip and not worry at all of tooth brush or passport or what clothes to bring.
Enjoy your life yes but enjoy your departure as well.

The Quilt

Two lives intertwined
Years of words reviewed by the hearts
One falls ill
The other holds with a grip of love that will not be released
There is pure beauty present

A love so strong
How ever can that be wrong
Many will write a song

We must understand
The moment they woke each ones eyes are locked to the others soul
Another stitch is created on the quilt that created their life
Our world runs at a speed that does not encourage and rejoice in such love
To look into the eyes of our lover and feel completeness

It takes great courage to say the final words
They can not be rehearsed
They can not be scheduled
They just flow from our lips when it is right
They escape without our knowledge and can not be retrieved
For within that split second the soul is freed
We are then alone so very alone
All the air leaves home

The quilt remains——- —– —– —– —– —- —– —–

My post today was inspired by a stepdaughters mother and father in law. My attempt to write a poem of their love turned into my love. Makes sense for how would I have knowledge of theirs.

I have been in our home now for two months. There are hints of progress but mostly I have been hiding. I have become unreliable. When you can’t bear to hear more kind advice you just retreat into yourself. There is part of us that does not want to disappoint  others again and again. We understand their concerns truly we do. We just have no mental energy. The feeling of running away is a constant. If no one knows you then you can’t disappoint.
I don’t think that mourners like where they find themselves. It is something that has to be allowed to run through us so it will leave us washed and renewed. That is the hope anyway.

Walking around our yard I can feel the conversations we have had walking on the same grass. There are chairs in twos placed for different view of the reflecting pools and trees but I just look at them and remember. The other day as I was walking about I realized that not only was the property too large for me to care for but that it was too large for me to enjoy. Does that even make sense?

Perhaps I feel this way because I was gone for five years and have only recently returned. If you never leave your family home do you feel as I do? Or do you just continue on as before. I think you probably do. I have been living in others homes for five years. Now I’m here and i feel the same.

In two months it will be three years that I have been a member of the widow’s club. My hope and dream is that by the time I am a member for five years that I will be in my own personal home. Creating new memories of my own.
We are so alone
We fall back our body deflated lies on the floor
We can not breath no more

Our Quilt remains ————————

tamaya garner august 9 2015