The first holidays after a death in the family are always difficult. Easter was my great-grandmother’s favourite. Grandma, I think, loved them all. My favourite is Christmas. There’s something about the season that draws me in and lifts my spirits and my hopes.
I can’t believe we said goodbye to my grandma only 2 weeks ago.
So here we are, now, at Easter. A day that is supposed to bring hope around the world. We will have a family dinner later today.
It’s amazing how life just keeps on going. Whether you come out of the hospital doors after having a surgical procedure or you walk out of a nursing home after your grandmother has died and everything and everyone else is carrying on as usual while your life seems like it has come to a screeching halt.
Then you are expected to catch up to that world and carry on with it meanwhile your heart and your mind are left behind.
I had to bring home a folder full of referrals that needed to be done because I was 4 days behind and I could NOT find the time to get them done. So now they are done and tomorrow morning I can put the phone on hold (or change the answering machine message to say we will be open at 2:15) and go in and print them and fax them. That doesn’t totally catch me up but it gets me a lot closer!
I continue to journal as it seems to be the only way to try and identify my thoughts and feelings. It’s interesting that I seem to only be able to do that when I’m alone. I know that, with great excitement, that he got all the cancer cells out! Those margins were clear. I went back and had another look (because I remember seeing something… you know that nagging feeling) and he did leave some of the pre-cancerous cells at the margins. Uncertain as to what he will suggest but I might get to go through all of this again… but at least I know the horrible monster cells are gone.
I tried writing the last couple of days… even if it’s a bit of an autobiography. I didn’t really care, I just wanted to dip my toes in. I actually took a look at 2 of my sequels, well, as far as I had managed to get when I stopped. The Mystery in the Attic was left at page 123 and the third installment, the book to follow Confessions in the Mural, sits at only 14 pages. I’m hoping that by reading one or the other that it will stimulate my brain into writing again.
Well, it is Easter, that time of hope… so maybe this time, I can get my mind back into writing.
So I wish you all a safe, Happy Easter wherever you are and wherever you are going today.