raindrops on roses


All three of us- my Dad, me and Alfonse- admitted today we were experiencing some degree of depression. We just all kind of went though some collective chaos yesterday that left us with residual emotional hangovers. I don’t know about them but the memory of burying Cindy on New Years Eve twenty five years ago kept bursting in to my brain over last year’s last day. Among other things.

I decided we needed to get out of the house today and get moving- head over to the next town for lunch and shopping. Alfonse was feeling so blue he tried to back out but I insisted he come.

On the drive there I recalled the song “My Favorite Things” which is all about pulling yourself out of a funk by remembering things you love.

I’m a big lover of road games so initiated this one and we filled up my car with the aroma of cinnamon rolls and pine trees, our new mantle that I threw some belated Christmas decorations on this morning, musicals, reclining movie seats and root beer.

I reached back while driving and held my brother’s hand who squeezed back hard holding mine until I needed it again for the wheel.

We stopped at a small cafe for lunch, all of us already feeling better, more connected in our circle, ordering asparagus soup, meatloaf sandwiches and blt’s.

Our soups arrived- one for me, one for my Dad both emblazoned with a message. A harbinger of goodness, a signal from beyond, relayed just for our table as we noticed the same soup, delivered to the very next table just moments later with only a simple squiggle on top.

Signs of life all around us if only we say yes.

Happy New Year.


6 thoughts on “raindrops on roses

  1. pilcherje

    It’s 2:33 AM …depression. I get that. Meaning, I understand the feeling. It’s 2014. December. Is it the end? Is it the beginning? Is it pennies in one’s loafers…and if it’s a New Year, then…why do we count backwards to ring in the new?

    And if I said it’s been a year, would anyone know it’s only been 12 months or 52 weeks but only 365 days until…the next December, that 12th month, when the news comes again.

    Scrolling down, reading, your father’s eyes came into view…and as I scrolled further, I saw the message. Love ❤ You know that feeling you get in your throat all at once when you try to swallow as the tears begin to flow…………………….

      • pilcherje

        Spellbound4….I owe that to {{{Katie}}}
        Yes, Dear Katie, the long whips, like a rippling blanket, shaking out her memories…December, it was the month I got the news about my sister, Cindy. And another December when I got the news about my Mother, just two years later, or 24 months later……………and only 9 months after my Mother passing…my Father’s diagnosis.
        People would say “but it’s been a year” or “but it’s been two years.” It made me feel as if I’d been left behind, again. And they knew nothing of the in between, the “messages.” And few knew that I’d held my Mother in my arms as she’d left this earth and who could forget… she’d held me when I came into this life. I wondered if that crossed their mind, at all.
        And I began to wonder, what if I said to those people…”what if I said to you,” does it sound different, that one year is 12 months or 52 weeks but only…365 days? If I said one hour but only 60 minutes, does it feel different? Would they even hear me?
        Depression. Yes, I do know it. It’s been 26 years since my sister passed away. I’ve only come to learn recently about “Complicated grief.” DSM5 recognizes it. And when I began to read about others who’ve experienced this, I knew I wasn’t alone and certainly, Dear Katie, with raw vulnerabilities, this made me face my own.

      • spellbound4

        Yes, I do understand. Katie has let me see I am not alone in my December losses. and it is somewhat a comfort to be feel the shared losses here. Thank you for sharing yours so well, too, Pilcherje. I am not anywhere near as good at putting my words of loss or comfort in writing, though. No matter the length of time that passes, I know my “burdens” don’t feel any less intense. Blessings to you. ((( hug )))

  2. Zuri

    Wow. Just wow. Your dad looks incredibly kind. So glad you 3 have each other. The universe is sending you love and strength in 2014.

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