Have been thinking a lot about mum. Friday will be the day she died and I realised I’m still very angry with her. Not for dying, but for not taking care of so many things I had to do and am still having to do. That quote from Patricia Briggs is still so apt, “Just because you have a connection to a thing, you are not necessarily responsible for its actions.” (The thing and it being mum.)
I am absolutely thankful I got to be home for so very long. I am glad I was able to take care of her and the little I managed to do before her death (because walking into it fairly blind would have been beyond hellish!). I was blessed by having the ability to do some things I’d never done before (meet dogsled owners and mushers, have a bra fitting done, do whatever I wanted with little or no consequences, get a modern cell phone, and more). I was thankful to be needed, even if I wasn’t always wanted and was more than often frustrated beyond belief, in a way I’ve never been needed before.
Yet, I am still angry. Because I was connected and willingly took that responsibility and found it a lot larger than anticipated. So, yeah. Not fair to be angry with mom, it was my choice to tell dad when he died that I’d take care of everything and later pick up that ball mom dropped..or ignored. I was made to fix things (well, not mechanical stuff or technology or injuries to the house that need mended–bathtub or windows-or yard things that require tools with power behind them!). So, I do, if it is at all possible.
Every single day I am reminded of how I need to forgive her. But, is it that I need to forgive myself? For not being the daughter I should have been by taking care of more, by not pushing that stubborn woman to do things she should have done, and by fixing things only half assed? (which, when you think of it is a very odd phrase..does it mean your pants aren’t pulled up all the way or what??? Sorry, digression is an old person thing!) Forgiveness is so important in a person’s life. There was a time when I let go of an anger with a friend, who is now, once again, a best one. It is a bit of a disturbance in my force!!!
I decided I wanted to write out mum’s journal type books into a accessible form. Because history isn’t just what you find via google or Facebook or in a class. It is all those bits and pieces that help create someone. I’m barely through the second week of September of ’94 and there is so much I cannot figure out. And there are so many more years to transcribe!!! It looked like a fun project, but it may be more than I can chew! Taking tiny bits at a time, mostly because mom’s handwriting was from a period when handwriting was taught and used through college. (Hers is super loopy!!!) Perhaps when I get further along, I’ll understand her more and be more able to get why she put so much off til someone else could try to finish it.
My sister, Jake, is often meeting people who have used fabric or material from mum or even completely unfinished projects mum left behind. Being separate from home, I don’t see that.
Maybe today is so hard because I miss the inlet, the scent of the water, the lake, the smell of wet leaves in moss when walking in the woods, the sight of towering mountains with termination dust (first snow), the echoing chuckle of ravens, and when I hear high overhead the sound of sandhill crane migrating south, I cry inside. It makes sense that today I’ll terminate my contract with the Alaskan cell company-hoping to keep my Alaskan number!! Another closure of home.