New Beginnings

Jamál (Beauty), 12 Masá’il (Questions), 169 BE – Sunday, December 23, 2012 about 1:40 P.M. Pacific Time

It is Sunday afternoon. It is the beginning of a new week. In about eight days, a New Year will begin. A new week, a New Year, new beginnings and I am not sure whether I am looking forward to the New Year or dreading it. I guess looking forward is the better of the two options.

There will be many changes for me in 2013. I expect to move to a new residence, to a smaller place. The coming year will be my first year without my mother in my life. It is strange, but before this year; before December I could not imagine what my life would be without her. I think the best thing to do is just to take one-day-at-a-time, but I need to make some plans for the New Year.

The only thing I can do is make plans and place each day in God’s hands. I know that eventually everything will work out. I have to have patience and faith. Right now, I want to sit down and cry; I will cry later on because now I have laundry to hang up and dishes to finish washing. I also have another blog entry to make and some reviews to do on writing.com.

A Sparrow Singing

Jalál (Glory), 11 Masá’il (Questions), 169 BE – Saturday, December 22, 2012 about 8:35 A.M. Pacific Time

a sparrow singing

in the cold December dawn

a new day begins

I heard a bird singing about dawn this morning. I think the bird was a sparrow perching in the oak tree next door. As I listened to it sing, I remembered a December morning several years ago when Mom and I sat on the living room couch listening to sparrows sing.

When Mom was younger and healthy, she always liked to get up before dawn to get her day started. Mom was an early riser, who did not like to sleep in. It did not matter what the season, Mom liked to get up before dawn and begin housework. I miss those mornings with Mom, listening to birds sing or the morning news.

a sparrow singing

in the cold December dawn

the end of the week

Missing Mama on Sunday Morning

Jamál (Beauty), 5 Masá’il (Questions), 169 BE – Sunday, December 16, 2012 about 10:05 Pacific Time

I know it will get easier as time goes by. Eventually, I will not wake up in the middle of the night listening for her voice or for the oxygen compressor. This morning I set at the computer, I look toward the couch where Mom usually sat watching me at the computer. Mom loved to watch me type stories or blog entries.

Now, I look toward the spot where here wheelchair usually sat. I expect to see her wave or smile at me. I expect to hear her ask for something to eat. When I get up from the computer, I want to go over where her wheelchair usually sat and kiss her on the head, but Mom is not there. Mom will never be sitting there again.

I know she is in a better place. Mom is in paradise with her parents. I know she is happy. I know Mom wants me to be happy, but the only thing I can do right now is cry because she is not with me. I am cooking for one now and I do not like to cook for one person. I cannot cook for one person, so I cook for two people and eat leftovers the next day.

The Struggle goes on

Jalál (Glory), 4 Masá’il (Questions), 169 BE – Saturday, December 15, 2012 about 3:45 P.M. Pacific Time

It’s Saturday afternoon in Las Vegas and the struggle goes on. What struggle you may ask, the struggle to clean out my mother’s closet, to clean off her dresser, and to write. I’m doing all right with the writing, the problem comes in when cleaning out the closet.

I have to give most of my mother’s clothes away and I don’t want to. However, I can’t wear them. I can wear very few of my mother’s clothes and I don’t want to keep a closet full of clothes I can’t wear, so the only option is to give them away. I suppose I could have a yard or garage sale, but I’m not feeling up to doing that. 

I’m not sure why I’m having so much difficulty cleaning out a closet. I took some of the clothes out of the closet and brought them into the living room. They are lying on a bar stool waiting for me to go through them and put them in bags to give away. Sometimes I want to get someone else to go through the clothes, but this is something I feel I have to do myself.

That Time of Afternoon in Las Vegas

Fidál (Grace), 19 Qawl (Speech), 169 BE – Tuesday, December 11, 2012 about 1:60 P.M. Pacific Time

It’s that time of afternoon, when weariness sets in. That time of day, when not matter how many cups of coffee I drink both my body and mind want a nap. I have so much writing and housework to do that I don’t want to go to sleep. Unfortunately, my body wants a short nap.

I’m tired. I’m yawning. I want to get away from the computer and doze off for a little while. I don’t want to sleep very long because I have work to do. Tonight is the Feast of Questions and I want to be awake enough to drive to the Feast and back safely.

I suppose the only thing to do is to pick up my prayer book and go to the couch. If I don’t take a nap I’m going to continue to node and yawn. Since I want to attend feast I will let this be that time of afternoon when I nap.

Sunday Afternoon in Las Vegas

the wind is blowing

yellow oak leaves are scattered

across black asphalt

I think I am going to have to start sweeping or raking up the leaves in my gutter. I noticed today when I returned from the grocery store that there are yellow oak leaves cluttering the street in front of my house. I will have to sweep or rack them up when the wind goes down. If I do that job when the wind is still blowing, it is going to make my allergies worse.

Excruciating

Istiqlál (Independence), 15 Qawl (Speech), 169 BE – Friday, December 7, 2012 about 2:30 P.M. Pacific Time

Mama died on November 29; that was nine days ago. Mama’s funeral was yesterday. Sometimes I still feel as if I am walking in a fog. I still wake up in the middle of the night listening for my name. No matter how Alzheimer’s disease ravaged Mom’s brain, she still remembered my name. There were times when I did not know if she thought I was her mother or her daughter, but she still remembered my name.

I wonder what I am going to do now. I have more free time, perhaps too much free time. I miss Mama so much; to say it hurts is an understatement. I am a writer and you would think I could find a term to express the pain of losing Mom.  No word I know for pain describes what I am feeling. I am not sure there is a word to describe the lose and pain of losing the woman who gave you life.

Day Six without Mama

Kamál (Perfection), 12 Qawl (Speech), 169 BE – Tuesday, December 4, 2012 6:30 AM Pacific Time

I count the days Mom has been gone. This is day six without her. This morning I woke up listening for her voice calling my name. Mom’s soul passed into paradise on the morning of Thursday, November 29, 2012. I do not know the precise time, but I do know it was later in the morning.

On the morning of Friday, November 30, 2012, the company that provided them picked up the oxygen compressor, wheelchairs, walker, and hospital bed. Then on Friday afternoon, we planned the funeral, which will occur on Thursday, December 6. Perhaps then, the reality of the situation will hit me.

Day six without Mama, I go through periods of numbness and tears. I wake up at night listening for her voice or for the sound of the oxygen compressor echoing through the house. I wonder what I will do will out her and then I realize that I will survive. My mother survived her birth. My mother gave birth to survivors. I am my mother’s daughter and I will survive.

Day six without Mama and I remember that this will be the first birthday I celebrate without her. I was born on December 24, 1946; on December 24, 2012, I will be 66 years old. I will celebrate my birthday because birthdays are celebrations or commemorations of joyful exuberance or at least without tears. I miss Mama.

My Method of Mourning

Jalál (Glory), 9 Qawl (Speech), 169 BE – Saturday, December 1, 2012 about 9:20 A.M. Pacific Time

My mother died on the morning of November 29, 2012. On the afternoon, of November 30, 2012 we, my sister, one brother, and I, with the help of someone from the mortuary, planned Mom’s funeral. This morning, I wrote a poem about her soul ascending into paradise and submitted it to a contest on writing.com.

As I was reading the poem again, after someone reviewed it, I realized that my method of mourning was to write. My method of dealing with anything is to write. Sometimes I find writing difficult in the middle of a crisis, but if I push on and let one word follow another then I can cope with the situation. I just have to place everything in God’s hands, sit down at the computer, open a document, and write.

Sometimes it’s difficult to write about the tests I’m facing in the midst of the crisis, at those time I have to write about something else or begin a free write. If I use a free write then eventually the problem show up in the writing and I find a solution or comfort.