spring rain…

 

Tears have been falling from the sky every day since I returned from the great trip, while she lay dying in the next room. When it was done, the sun came out – you can’t tell me that’s coincidence. We warmed our bones in the backyard for just a snippet of time.

Yesterday, from the director’s chair next to her bed, I could see the bare tendrils of the frangipani swaying in the wind. Her bones barely moved as the wind whistled past the fluid at the back of her throat – periodically. 

I had an irrational want to rush around the garden, and chop everything down. How does life go on outside as though life isn’t ending inside? Environmental destruction wouldn’t halt the process…anyway, the rain is pelting down again…nature’s unrelenting sobbing echoes grief.

 

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38 thoughts on “spring rain…

  1. This is beautifully written. I’m sorry. It does feel so odd that life goes on, that people go out to work and buy groceries and enjoy sunshine others can’t feel. My dad’s in hospice care at home now and you’ve really captured the emotions (and even the sounds) of watching, waiting, and wondering.

  2. I’m so sorry for your loss. You write about it so beautifully. I trust that after your grief has subsided equanimity will arise as a balm to your soul. (((((hugs)))))
    Alison

  3. I am sorry for your loss. HUGS! ❤
    Diana xo

  4. Annie, I just went back and finally caught up on all the posts I missed, during my crazy summer! So happy you finally got to go on your Ireland adventure; wonderful stories!

    Then this… I am a bit lost, not sure who passed away, but I’ so sorry for your loss and the grief you are feeling. I am perpetually amazed that the world marches on, when it feels like everything is falling to pieces inside. Sending a hug and a healing support. xo

  5. Annie hugs to you take one day at a time. Three birds sat on my mothers railing the morning my dad passed away. It was a gift to be by his side and tell him we loved him. Sorry for your loss. The birds were lorrakeets and they chirped in joy as if we should be happy that my dad was at peace.

  6. My condolences, Annie. Sometimes the wheel rips tendrils out of our heart when it turns. But it still turns.

  7. My sincerely thoughts of peace and calm to you.

  8. Thinking of you Annie as I read through your blogs, knowing you are grieving. Thank you for sharing your beautiful words, as sad as they are & so personal.

  9. This touched me deeply. I hold you in my heart, thoughts and prayers. Sending healing light to you.

  10. I feel sadness for you Annie

    >

  11. I’m so very sorry, Annie. I hold you in Love and Light, always. xoxoM

  12. Annie, I am so sorry. It’s so hard to say goodbye to one’s mother, no one else recognizes the little girl inside the grown woman.

  13. So sorry. Life does go on and death as well. I remember when my grandson was born the very same day my best friend lost his mother. Life and death

  14. Sending prayers with great care, Annie.

  15. Annie, I am so sorry for the loss of your mother. It’s tough, no matter how old we get, we miss our moms. And in a strange way how lucky for you to be there for what I always find to be such a mysterious, miraculous event. Thinking of you. xoxox

  16. I don’t know how I missed this one. So poignant and honest.

  17. Huge hugs Annie..Thinking of you xxx

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