Tuesday, November 21, 2006

A Watery World

I took a walk around the garden in pouring Rain this morning; I sloshed through Water in Puddles and small Lakes and Rivers.

Water every- where. Sounds around me are full of swishes, drips, gurgles, bubbles...and the booming song of the waves upon the Beach.

I meditated as I wandered, scarcely noticing the pelting Rain. There is an unease to my spirit these days; this morning I pinpointed the cause.

The Holiday Season is upon me. I can no longer deny it. Everything seems to be decorated. There are decisions to make...dinners and such. And once again, I will face the anniversary of my daughter Katrina's death.

It will be ten years since she moved irrevocably on...without me, her mother, to help her along her way, on December 30th. The strong, piercing pain that once throbbed within me no longer darkens December days further than wintry skies alone.

But there is still an ache. A soft, gentle ache that closes my throat, making me swallow hard. A hard knot in my solar plexus and easy tears where my emotional body needs succor completes the picture.

I don't believe it will ever lessen further. The huge, crashing waves of emotion that used to swallow me entirely are no longer as large and overwhelming. Smaller, softer waves of longing and sadness now tickle my toes...just enough to keep me aware of that heavy ache Katrina's death left with me.

She was my child. There is a disorder...a twist... that happens when a child dies before the parent, even if she was twenty-three. Life is not supposed to happen this way. But it did. It just did.

And it happens to many of us parents. I wanted my child to be safe; I did everything I could to do that very thing that is such an important part of parenting. I know that. And I am grateful for the time that Creator allowed Katrina to be a part of my life.

As I sloshed through the Water...Water that tugged and pulled at my emotions...I remembered some of the things Katrina taught me. One lesson that is still with me, always, is when she told me that just because she didn't show her emotions didn't mean she didn't feel them.

And there were many more lessons...Katrina's patience was legendary. Her non-judgemental attitude taught me to let things go, to not obsess wildly about events I could do nothing about. Some of her lessons did not become apparent until after her death...it was her legacy.

But I find myself wondering, at times...what would Katrina do in a case like this? And always, always the answer comes. And I carry on, knowing our family has the greatest guardian there ever was.

Acceptance, after many years of anguish and sorrow and anger, has finally arrived. I used to think, in my youth, that after someone died, I would spend a day or two in sorrow...and then "put it behind me". I used to think I knew what acceptance was.

A watery world...in which my tears flowed, just as suddenly as the strange little Rivers that have forged their way through my backyard. It felt just as cleansing as the Earth did, after sheets of Rain and gusts from Wind showered her clean.

I need to have days like this...my spirit calls out for it. I need to weep...and so I do. These are different tears than angry or happy tears. There is no end to these. Sometimes the dam they're in needs to overflow.

And a watery world is just the place to let them.


  1. Dont really know what tto say, but as I parent I fully understand.

  2. Sometimes I just have to let the tears fall, Dave. I always feel soo much better as a result...ready to face whatever the holidays might bring.

  3. Marion,
    I can only imagine the strength it must take to go on after such a loss. Katrina left after such a short time. It doesn't seem fair. You need your tears.

    After my mother died five years ago, I became close to an older second cousin. Her son died unexpectedly and without her being able to say her goodbyes. We grew closer each in our own sorrow. She, the mother without a son. Me, the daughter without a mother.

    We never know how or when our lives will be changed but only that they will.

  4. yes, Sheila, change is a constant thing in all our lives.

    Katrina gave us all so much, during the short time she was with us. Her daughter, Brianna, is the biggest gift.

    She is being brought up by my oldest daughter, Heidi...and Bree is so much like her mother! Sometimes we even call her Katrina, when she has done or said something that sounds like it came directly from Katrina!

  5. An answer to your query. I don't like it much unless it is mixed with other things like on a pizza.

    Your posting is so very sad today and I can understand that you must really feel a terrible loss. I don't think you ever get over it.

  6. Anonymous2:56 p.m.

    I do understand your feelings, and the sadness you have within.

    The man I care for deeply lost his son and I often sense the sadness in him you express so well.

  7. Marion, I have tears in my eyes after reading this. One of my biggest fears are always that I don't want to loose a child. You probably will notice in my blog we almost lost little Liam due to a heart condition when he was born, all the feelings you mentioned feels so real to even me. Our little man survived open heart surgery when he was only 1 week old, but I have that secret fear always in the back on my head, will he be ok for the rest of his life.
    I try to celebrate and appreciate each day and belief he will be.
    Take care this season and enjoy the sweet memories.

  8. I try to hide the sadness most days, although it is always there. And most days, I'm successful, and I'm glad about that. But on some days, some feelings are bigger...they're the ones that have to come out.

    Hannalie, your little man looks wonderfully healthy! He sure loves that play doh!

    Jackie,thanks for your answer...one of these days, if we can ever have pizza again, lol, I'll try it!

    I know with your awareness and sensitivity, Artist, that you would realize the times that sadness hits your friend. He is lucky to have you.