among the fingers of the light and the sleeping eyes.
tomorrow will come on its green footsteps;
no one can stop the river of the dawn." pablo neruda (from sonnet 49)
the day breaks with the falling of rain - people are wanting to be so kind and supportive and sharing time-tested words and afectionate gestures . . . i'm grateful but unable to connect their kindness to my need. it isn't their fault or for lack of their being genuine.
it's about an ongoing and unfolding internal dialogue between the fatherless son and the son who refuses to accept his father's flying away.
the unfolding day feels like i'm walking up a set of dark stairs with a candle in my hand. behind me someone is urging me onward.
james joyce described this very sensation in the dubliners;
"o, don’t trouble, i beg !"
"no, but the stairs is so dark."
"no, no, i can see.... thank you, indeed."
"are you right now ?"
"all right, thanks.... thanks."
here are two pictures i took this morning . . . .
a leaden sky hangs heavy and uncertain. 
6 comments:
You'll find that it's 'two steps forward and one step back', this grieving process. (Sometimes one forward and two back.)
All you can do right now, Steven, is to recognize and 'go' with your feelings. They're beautifully expressed in this post.
hi goldenrod, thanks for the supportive comment and observation. i described the core sensation to a friend yesterday as being like a wave that washes through my body - thoroughly and not missing any of me - it leaves me overfull and unable to focus. it isn't sadness or anger or anything identifiable . . . just a wave of wistfullness and puzzlement and so much more that i can't label. at those moments i need to be absolutely alone . . . a hard-to-fill expectation for a parent and a teacher!!!!!
steven
I agree with Goldenrod about the "two steps forward one step back" motif. Certainly it was/is like that for me.
You just have to keep moving through the process, paying attention to the messages and signs that crop up on an almost hourly basis; a time of raw nerve and raw courage and well, just plain raw.
Keep going steven
One caution if I may, Steven ... ... you cannot (nor should you!) expect more of yourself than yourself is able to deliver.
I am sorry that you are experiencing these 'gut-wrenchers' at this time, Steven -- truly, I am. Try not to be so hard on yourself, please! NO one is Superman/woman.
Again, the warmest of thoughts that I can possibly imagine trying to send your way and encompass your very being with love.
hey sid, thanks for the words and the supportive thoughts. i know you know about "the black dog" and this feels a little like that except that it's not there for days - it just washes through in anywhere from a minute to an hour and then seems to leave. i've been so fortunate to have the support of people like yourself who have experienced this and so can speak from inside the whole piece. thanks a million sid!
steven
hi goldenrod, thanks for your thoughts and generosity of spirit! school kicked in nicely today although i found times where i wished i had a "get-me-outta-here" button. my dad was such a great guy - loved music, reading, spirituality, beer, wine, food, laughs and lots more of course. i really liked that he brought all those together into one physical and emotive space and then trotted out each in turn in a kind of conversational/experiential collage. that's something i'll really miss.
steven
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