A little music was all it took

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I have been purposely not posting over the last few days because, as I look back, my last few posts encompass the overwhelming, undulating emotions one goes through after a loss.  Although it has been slightly cathartic, it also made me realize I need to snap out of this feeling of wallowing and focus on all of the positive feelings I experience when thinking about my mom.

Last  night was a very healing night for me.  While working on the scrapbook and decorations for  her celebration I began to make a playlist of many of her favorite songs to listen to during the reception after the service.  That music took me on a journey I never anticipated and I got to experience my relationship with my mom all over again.

The road trip of memories lay stretched before me and I hit the gas, negotiating the turns and rolling into my early youth.  Music was always playing in our house and, as I recalled the many nights of games and puzzles as a family, the sounds of the 70’s classics drifted back into my mind.  I could see and smell the old family cottage in my memory as if I had just walked through the door.  The strains of music lifted my spirits and helped me float back to a place I hold so dear.

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This song is just one of many.

I made a brief stop in my young adult life, remembering how I used to sing the songs from Annie ad nauseam and my mom never tired of listening.  I secretly wished I had red, curly hair and freckles and I’m sure my mom knew that about me but the songs, to her, sounded just as sweet coming from a child with brown hair and green eyes.

We grew together through music and, although my mom admittedly had trouble carrying a tune, we shared a love of old musicals.  The clock raced forward and those old musicals would come back, time and time again, to play an important part in our relationship.  After my dad passed, my Christmas Eve was spent with my mom watching The Sound of Music, every year.

Those songs last night, those happy memories hidden within those soundtrack scores, were all I needed to be lifted above the fog that has been weighing so heavily on my heart.  A few well placed notes on a page and suddenly I feel like it’s okay to be happy when I think about her.  I don’t have to be sad all the time, nor would she want me to be, and that is the message she sent to me through song.

I’ll never stop being sad, but those precious moments of being able to smile again are worth every tear I’ve shed.

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Another hurdle, a few more kleenex

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I knew today would be rough, another hurdle to overcome in a long list of firsts since losing my mom.  I spent some fun time with family last night having some good laughs, which was great.  After a fantastic dinner and jokes that only my family would appreciate, I got in the car to head home.  A dear friend had sent me a text message letting me know she was thinking about me and how much of a difficult time I would have today and the first tear came with many to follow.  I’m pretty sure what I experienced Oprah refers to as “the ugly cry”.

I vowed today would be better…and it was.  I made a point of keeping myself occupied by working on the scrapbook and some decorations I am putting together for mom’s upcoming celebration of life.  Sure, there have been a few random tears that have escaped during the afternoon but most of the day has been spent remembering her in a way she would want me to – with a smile and affection that has no boundaries.

These are some of the ways I have honored my mom today in her absence on this first mother’s day without her.  I miss you every day.

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Stymied by a dense fog

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I have been devoid of words for the last few days.  I have felt unmotivated to read or write and that is very unlike me.  I have no clear excuse for the change in my patterns, but have felt a shift in my mood.  A funk seems to have settled in the corners of my brain and is spreading like a low-lying fog making everything in its path disappear.

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I took my dog for a walk this morning and this was the sky that followed us as we forged ahead.  Perhaps it is a sign to me that the light will shine through once again and life will get back to normal.  I have missed reading blogs by my fellow WPer’s and vow to kick these blahs to the curb and feel that flow of creativity once again.

I hope you all have a happy Friday and a great weekend to follow.

Hoo’s there?

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I feel his stare before I am aware of  his presence.

If I had to, I could answer my own question.

I know why he suddenly appears.

My dad said he would always be with me.

The owl only proves his promise.

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Written for the Gargleblaster #160.

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We’re turning to The Carpenters for this week’s ultimate question. This song has been stuck in my head since the gargleblaster started.

Why do birds suddenly appear?

Give us your answer in 42 words. We know you all know the next line in the song. Let’s see if you can make us think of something different. Take it out of context of the original song and help me clear my head!

The colors of life

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I grew up in the 70’s.   And in that decade color was so prevalent you could almost taste it.  From the psychedelic album covers (for those of that actually know what albums are) to the drastic disco outfits and lava lamps – color was everywhere.  Wall posters of our favourite bands awash in reds, oranges and purples were plastered on the walls in our teenage bedrooms and things as ordinary as kitchen appliances were bathed in a spectral representation of the full color wheel.

Mood rings were all the rage and my mother’s affliction for that particular piece of  jewellery was my first foray into the correlation of color and feeling.  Colors are tied to our emotions and even used to describe feelings.  People will tell you that they are feeling blue when they are depressed or green with envy and when angered, they see red.

Contrary to some opinions we dream in color.  The intensity of the hues in the hours of our sleep are described as representing the emotions we are experiencing in our conscious hours.  Dreams of black often epitomize stress and the feeling of being overwhelmed and the presence of color can be translated into the myriad of emotions we face each day.

We all appreciate color in our own unique way – from the clothes we wear to the decoration and palettes we choose in our home.  Color can be used to represent who we truly are and the state of mind in which we find ourselves.   I love the outdoors so when it came time to choose the items in my home I brought a part of Mother Nature’s landscape indoors by decorating in greens and browns.  My home gives me a sense of comfort with those rich colors and relaxes me in a way that a stark monochromatic home never could.

There really is something golden in the absence of sound.   I am going to spend an hour after work letting the warmth of that orange sun settle on my creamy flesh.  I am going to smile at the red buds on the branches and allow the blues and greens of nature soothe my soul.

What color are you feeling today?

Waging a war with words

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I charge into battle,

head held high,

armed with neither knives nor guns.

My ammunition carries no physical weight.

The only weapon I use to defend myself will not extinguish a life.

My battles are fought with words.

The only dagger I possess is my sharp tongue.

My army is my vocabulary,

my stealth is the thesaurus in my brain.

My mind is the only weapon that doesn’t need a holster.

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