But my mom died in August. Bleych--it suuucks to write that. I thought that over time I'd feel less pain, but it's the reverse. Everything's reverse. I think of my mom's life (in my life) in reverse chronological order. There were the last few years when she didn't feel good and had retreated, physically and socially. But then I think of the time when she was able to carry Rosie at my wedding 5 years ago, or make a Napoleon for my step-brother 10 years ago, or take me and my sister to see Hale-Bopp out in the country when I was in high school. And so on and so forth. All the way back to camping in Sequoia National Park and hazarding the slippery rocks of the creeks together. And it just fucking sucks. And I want to make the last 3 years of her life awesome and less painful for her. I want to remove her from the environments that brought out the worse in her. I want to take her to the mountains and get her a cabin for her books and cats and dog. I want to take away her back pain so she can walk through the woods one more time.
But I can't. And I have to trust, in my own agnostic way, that there is a greater force that redeems her suffering. And trust that I don't understand anything. I'm just seeing through the glass darkly, and all that fun stuff.
Anyway, here's the first post since mom died. Maybe the next one won't be so very painful to write, and I can start to chronicle my life and family again.
9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. 10 But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. 11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. 12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
