New new new turns to old old Old....

"Hardships continue to be distributed" the order keeper told me when I asked why I had to suffer this much.
His face was stern and untarnished by my sadness.

I realize that life happens how it is meant to happen, and all things must happen for some reason. Many are obvious, others not so much. As in, it was obvious that my grandfather who had prostate cancer and who had lived 90 years of life would in fact die soon. However, it is still not obvious to me why I had to know it would happen on my birthday, when I was already going through unresolved grief.

It was a difficult weekend before my birthday. I had this pain on my esophagus. It would hurt to swallow, move my head, and the pain was bothersome the whole night that it kept me awake in a nervous state. I wondered why I was so nervous. Nothing that usually made me nervous was coming up, like dentist appointments, flights, or tests. Nevertheless I was so nervous I could feel a panic attack coming.

The weekend went by and I just knew I was going to get that phone call on my birthday. It was a thought that kept on lurking in the dark that I just took as paranoia.

On Tuesday, July 27th, I woke up a year older, with a painful back and a sore esophagus. I had no energy. I had not slept, and my whole being felt saddened. I decided to try to pretend to be normal for the relatives that were visiting...I was incapable of such a thing, therefore I stayed in bed with the excuse of my bad back. I tried to confront my grief for my aunt by writing her a birthday letter. I then emailed others who would be feeling the same way as I that day. The day went from cheerful moments given to me by my son and husband to a more somber haze.


The change occured while the children were singing happy birthday to me. All of a sudden I had the urge to tell them to be quiet and sob right there at the dinning room table. I of course restrained myself and held the tears back. I made a wish and as the flame of the candles evaporated into smoke...the phone rang. It happened as if in a movie. I heard my mother voice. Quivering with restrained grief.


"Ay chrissy, his heart just stopped beating." she said. "his pulse just faded away. I felt it stop."


"yes I know mom. I am sorry" I said with a stern voice. I tried desperately not to cry, but then my aunt spoke to me and all was lost. I hung up and sobbed out loud, as loud as I had just six months prior.

 Since my grandfather passed I have been some what desiring to go back to his time of youth and health. Back when Cary Grant was a hunky Hollywood star and Hitchcock was making "The Vanishing Lady". And since I am in the midst of a move I have been wanting to be surrounded by old things. Comforting things. Inviting things. Things that have already had a whole life. Perhaps a chair, where a young person has aged and has experienced glories and happiness.....
I miss him.
I miss many things.
I miss not missing