I am not certain whether I should leave the title of the blog as Transitions. It seems that one transition barely ends before another begins. In my life, I am changed by transitions and losses so frequently that I wonder if the state of change is, itself, the story of life.
We have been living in the UK for a year now. A year ago, we were excited about the adventure of living in a new country. We were experiencing everything. And we have. I still adore almost everything about England, especially the Liverpool region. There have been bad points, serious lows, actually. I have been rejected based upon things out of my control, my place of birth, my religious background. That is a sharp kind of pain.
On the other hand, I have been loved and accepted unconditionally by other groups of people. I have made new friendships that I know will grow and last a lifetime. I have support and kindness and love in my life. I am thankful for that on a daily basis.
About 6 weeks ago, my mom called me. She told me that she hoped I would be able to come back soon to visit, that my dad’s illness was progressing, and that she wanted to talk about the future with me. DH and I did what we could to make that happen quickly, even pulling the kids out of school early and coming to the US at a rather great expense. You see, Mom just didn’t talk like that unless it was urgent. I wanted to give credence to her words.
We did come soon, and we did visit, and Mom and I did talk about the future. Dad is very ill and his illness is progressive. So we talked about all of the eventualities – My Mom, My Dad, my brother, and I.
Then Mom had a heart attack. Unexpectedly, she passed away on August 1.
I think pain hits you harder when it is unexpected. You are moving along in life and suddenly something flies at you from a direction you are not looking. There’s no preparing for that, and I think sometimes preparing can blunt the blow.
And I’ve learned that grief does not meld with grief, that grief stacks on top of grief. Because you are grieving one thing does not mean a new grief happening at the same time will absorb into the other grief. There is a lot of grief stacked here.
What helps with that grief is those people, those ones I mentioned above, whose unconditional love and acceptance and support is offered. I have been blessed to have those people on both sides of the Atlantic shore. I have them here, on the Pacific shore. I have them the world over, demonstrated by family and friendship and love. They talk to me, they remember my grief, they seek me out when I am trying to hide. They read between the lines.
Thank you. You will never know how much it has helped.
Transitions 