Monday, March 20, 2017

Spring

Sap drips runs 
seen felt 
around, within.

A grave 
newly dug, 
father's body.
 
Snowdrops 
give way 
crocus appears.

Mirabel
wonderous beauty
Equinox.

March 21
2017
gkn

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Saved by Love

Hello to my crowd of encouragers.   

The two years since I began my wildly improbable goal,  which some of you encouraged me to name probable is almost over!  I can hardly believe it!   Posting on this blog has become an important part of this journey.   I do not know if it will continue, as I continue to follow my mandate to be with the writing and not get caught by the demands of the writing.  This has been such an important learning for me! 

I did as many of you know start my memoir in November, it has sat almost dormant since then.  The post below talks a little about that and about my moving back to it.  

I want to say a thank you to all of you who have supported me in various ways in these two years.

Thank you!   I could not have done it without you.  I am here because of community of support that spans countries and continents.   Some of you I see in person, some of you I see on facebook, or in my email box,  some I know are there because someone tells someone who tells me that they read something I wrote.  

I would love to hear from you all!

If you get my posts in your mailbox.   In order to correspond with me you must send email either to my personal mailbox, this way only I read your post,  or go to my blog address wildlyprobable.blogpot.ca and comment on the post.  

... and now on to my latest preface for my memoir....

Preface for my Memoir... Saved by Love

My father’s funeral was on Feb. 26.  He died on February 19.  I was by his side when he took his last breaths.   

On February 27 my grand daughter Mirabel was born.

The waiting was over.  The transfer of souls on earth had taken place.  

Now I could get back to the writing of the memoir that I started during  November.   It is March.  Here I am ready, it seems to begin writing, to begin editing.  

However it seems the story is different.  My father so absent in the November draft, (The draft that began before he ended up in hospital and then moved to hospice), is now present.  Today he is very present in my life, and in his death. 

Few things remain the same. 

The good bye to my father, long anticipated has taken place. 
The good bye to the church community of my childhood and youth, long anticipated has taken place.

My daughter has given birth to a daughter. 

The obituary long anticipated has been written, vetted, rewritten and published.  
It reflected who my father was in relationship. 
It does not reflect who I am in relationship.  It was not my funeral.

The eulogy has been given.  
My brother Larry did a great job, reflecting on the complexity of our father.

I have spent a week loving and supporting Mirabel (as she adjusted to life on earth) her big brother Leo (as he adapts lovingly to his baby sister),their parents as they eagerly find sleep in all the windows possible and me, supporting me, as I am fed by all of them in and out of my arms.


Many things remain the same.
My mother continues to be present to me in surprising and less surprising ways; she is a near constant companion.

I continue to live in Collingwood. 
I continue to long for time with my grandchildren and with myself.
I continue to share my home and my life with two wonderful women, Liwana and Susan.
I continue to write, to walk, to swim, and to enjoy the gift of my life.
I continue to cherish the time I have with my wonderful grandchildren and their caring, loving parents.
I continue to dream of travel.


So I will begin again to tell my story ever the same and always different, as the kaleidoscope of life brings new patterns forward.



gkn march 2017

Death comes

The clock says 4:45.
I look at the nurse with uncertain certainty
His reply to my eyes is "yes his colour, is sure different."

He breathes again, a shallow breath,
Andrew's sobs fill the room.

I take their hands Andrew's and
my father's, " it's ok"  I say,
"he knows you are here."

Together we breathe,
all of us
into new life.


gkn Feb.19  2017

Monday, March 6, 2017

Soul's Journey

My father died on Sunday. 

We gathered, as community, family and
others.  To celebrate his departure,  uncomplicated,
his soul left, 
his liegacy remains.

We buried his body, said goodbye.

She was born on Monday.

We gather as community, family and
others.  To celebrate her arrival, uncomplicated,
her soul arrived, 
her story begins.

We swaddle her body, say hello.

You married him,  birthed, love me, 
my grieving, celebrating body, 

rests. 

gkn March 2017

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Amaryllis

Straight and long
two chlorophyll filled
white bottomed leaves
nondescript.

I longed to throw it out.

This bulb with little
beauty,  but others see,
others saw, a miracle
unfolding.

(and so it stays)

What happens,
'neath the surface?

Today a flower bloomed.


gkn Feb. 22, 2017

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Nap Time

The little ones 
fight nap times.

I look forward to naps,
long for naps,
want more naps.

Is that what it means to be a grown up? 

gkn Feb. 2017

Monday, February 13, 2017

Sandwich Gifts

The morning started out with peanut butter and jam.
"What kind is it GG, what kind of jam?"  Nectarine.  "Do we have nectarine" he asked?
Maybe... "I like it,  I like nectarine."
"I do not like honey."
Last week he jumped up and down in delight telling me about honey and that he loved it!

We get in the car,  "I do not want to go see great grandpa Lorne," he says.
Sometimes we do things we do not want to, we both agree.
We will go see great grandpa Lorne.
Then we will go home to mama and daddy's house.  

Great Grandpa Lorne invites him to give him a kiss on his hand,
as he sleepily opens his eyes to acknowledge our arrival.
 Leo wants to make the bed move, he knows which buttons to push.
Not today, I say great grandpa is too tired today.

We play with cars,  Lightning McQueen and his friends, race around the hospice room.
I move back and forth between the cars and the sometimes open eyes of my father.  

Then he is awake and he notices his hunger.
 He asks for beef stew, Leo races to the kitchen to help order it.  
His two year old hands help me feed great grandpa.

It is time to leave, to go to mama and daddy's house.

 I do not want to go to mama and daddy's house.
He wants to play with Lightning McQueen and my brothers, his great uncles,
whom he is coming to know in our visits here.

Sometimes we do things we do not want to do, we both agree.



gkn
Feb. 2017