A day to celebrate.
A time to remember.
December 26th, 2014
The boys ran ahead and look what they made:
I am continually amazed at the boys ability to remember, feel sadness and pour out love.
Tonight, the boys and I watched some talented people share their gifts. For me, it was a blast from the past as I remember watching the Snowbirds at the PG airport.
Here are the boys in the 36 degree heat ready to watch the show over the lake. JC had great insight to bring chairs.
Here come the Snowbirds:
Earlier in the day, we had to drop Sexy Neck off at the airport. We were able to catch a glimpse of the Snowbirds one the ground.
It was a Snowbird day!
Talented people sharing their gifts.
What a show!
Thank you for the memory Snowbirds.
Memories have been sliding down my cheeks more often these days. In the quiet moments, when the boys talk of their beloved Nana and when I witness my dad’s own tears. I still cannot make ‘sense’ of this new existence without mom. It is completely unbelievably real. The living with ONLY memories is bringing me to my knees. This is neither good nor bad, it just is.
I have the privilege of being on the front line of receiving mom’s things as dad is ready to let them go. First it was food in the cupboard then mom’s cosmetics, then shoes, jackets and now her clothes. I readily take these beautiful things with tears in my eyes. The memories of mom wearing the clothes and seeing things she had purchased to wear this spring that I am living RIGHT NOW is very difficult to comprehend. (Two biking shirts in particular brought tears to my eyes.).
Here is batman (aka CC) pointing to the two boxes of spring clothes I have of mom’s:
Sitting in it.
As mom’s clothes sit at one end of our unfinished basement, I have been sorting through our boxes of memories at the other end on my newly painted white shelf. What does one do with old yearbooks, jerseys, trophies… Are my children going to want these things? Do I want my children to be going through them. Perhaps my work now is to make space for them to create their own memories.
Giving freedom to it.
Providing space for.