Words she left behind
It was almost a year ago to the day that I took my Mother home to rest at Arlington National Cemetery. Like everything she did in her life, her death was unexpected. At that moment we surrender our loved ones to another realm, we do not see past the pain. Time does not heal wounds, it merely makes the edges a bit softer.
As the only daughter, it was left for me to sort through her possessions and in doing so I found a treasure. My Mother was a journal writer and I never knew that about her. I always assumed my love of writing came from my Father but no, it was her all along.
I have not yet read through her journals, but do think it’s time. They date back to her days in Nursing school and finish two weeks before her death. I almost feel like a voyeur into this woman’s private world on paper, yet think she is happy I have them. My Mother was a woman of strength, courage and lived life absolutely to the fullest. (My nickname for her is Daisy from “The Great Gatsby”.)
So now I will start at the beginning and compile a small book of her words for the children and grandchildren left behind. I am not certain what will be read, but one thing I do know is Daisy has made the edges that much softer.
Merci Mother…
This hit home a bit. I lost my mother when I was in 5th grade and over the years the memories have faded. All I remember is glimpses and smells and thrive off of the stories that my relatives told me. Apparently we’re a lot alike. The one thing I have from her to go on is a little notebook from when she was sick. We would write back and forth to each other since I’ve never been really good at talking. It was a way for us to work out our problems and maintain our relationship through out the cancer treatments.
This posts also reminds me why I write. Like I said, I’m horrible at talking out my feelings. I am. I’ve been journal-ing since I could write. The current count is 33 journals, and I still keep up on them. At first it was to get my head on straight. Then once I got diagnosed with Crohns Disease and found out my mother’s cancer was genetic small cell, I looked at my daughter. If something manages to pry me off this earth early, she’ll have plenty of material to learn about me by.
haha, Sorry for hijacking your blog with my novel of a comment. You just got me thinking! Thanks! *Followed*
We are alot alike.. writing has always been my main form of communication (working on that voice)..how fortunate we both are to have our Mother’s words and yes, for your daughter as well..I also have a box (I mean a big one) of letters we wrote to each other while I was in the Army, but not ready to tackle those just yet..i much enjoyed your hijack comment
*followed you too*
Absolutely beautiful. Well told. I will be following your journey. HF
Thank you muchly Mr Faulkner!
Have a wonderful day!
this is an elegant, beautiful tribute to your mom. well done. continue…
Just words on her words and I thank you for reading…(love that “continue” part ..)
i’m touched, and if i may be honest, i am winded. of all the things to be scared of in this life, my mother’s death is one of them. i know death is part of life. it comes for us all. but Jesus, the thought of losing a parent scares me more than i can say.
than YOU for softening that edge just a little.
g.
thehistoryofthings.com
http://circularrunning.wordpress.com/
You know what? Her’s was the one I feared the most too.. Somehow, we get along down the road and you will too. I told her I loved her alot, called, visited, so no guilt..You will be fine and yes, I follwed along
Reblogged this on Ramblings of a Misguided Blonde and commented:
Just beautiful!
Thank you very much!!!!
You’re welcome. It gave me goosebumps!
Lindsey
I love this! Very nourishing to my soul. I’m sure your mother is very pleased that you are following her through her writing. Wonderful!
Thank you so kindly.. yes, my girl loved I wrote .
Have a great rest of the weekend!
How lovely to have some journals to read through and remember her by. My mother was the exact opposite and regularly had purges to throw things out so that anything I found to keep was by total fluke. Enjoy her journals. Time does help in a strange sort of way – everything just recedes really.
Thanks so much for reading & yes, recede is a great way of saying it..
I bet what you found has it’s own special meaning too!!
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