Today I am grateful for:
1. The colourful hat I have on my head. It was left here by my third daughter, who had borrowed it from my first daughter. My first daughter is in long-term rehab and I miss her. Wearing her hat warms my head and my heart with thoughts of her.
2. Tears that are flowing from my eyes while I write, to help wash out a smidgen of the pain I have been enduring of late.
3. Having heard from a friend with whom I had once thought I had lost touch forever, but from whom I now occasionally hear, and he even subscribed to my blog. (Hola, Señor Heelez).
4. The sip of Zevia ginger rootbeer that was just brought to me by my eight-year-old son. He said, “Here’s some fresh Zevia that I just opened. It’s fresh.”
5. The smell of lentils and barley cooking in the kitchen, to which I am about to add carrots, onions, garlic, celery, and chopped ham.
And an extra mention of gratitutde to the blogger at Inspirationenergy, who inadvertently prompted me to write this — Inspirationenergy’s Gratitude Page.
For more gratitutdes, check out: my Gratitudes category.
Mother’s Day 2012 was the first time in two years that all seven of my children were with me in one spot. Who knows when it will happen again.
Here are some of us on that day in a typical random outburst of song.
I miss my oldest daughter.
My heart breaks for her. She has been through so much. She is in long-term rehab again – for a program that takes two to five years to complete, depending on the student.
Last time she was in for 11-1/2 months in a different place, and was clean for over two years.
Heroin got a hold of her.
I hate addictions.
She and I have similar musical tastes, from Mozart to Led Zeppelin to jamming in our imperfect way on our guitars to any song that comes to mind, and back again.
She introduced me to the music of Radiohead.
Finishing up my invoicing for work tonight, I was listening to “Creep” on my headset, and missing my firstborn child so much.
(Photo from 2010 – my oldest daughter when she was 18, my youngest daughter when she was 18 months old, and me.)
I am concerned about you.
You used to be the most loving person I had ever known.
You were so kind, so gentle, and so caring.
You loved to listen to and make music.
You loved to laugh and make people laugh.
You were so energetic.
You reached out to others to pour out the love you had.
But now, you have become so still, so silent, so cold, and so hard, like the ice that surrounds you.
Although it is of small consolation, though all else on earth may forsake you, I will always love you.
Too bad nobody knows you like I do. Too bad they think you are depressed for no reason.
I miss you, Me.
Love from Me.
“To know is not enough, oh winter sun.” ~Out Of The Grey
Copied from my main blog, at this link: Missing The Most Important Person In My Life
A friend of my oldest daughter posted some lyrics on her facebook wall. I copied/pasted some of them to Google and found it to be this song.
I’d never heard it till just now, but nonetheless it reminded me of my oldest daughter, as she was the one to introduce me to a few songs by RHCP.
How I miss her.
(Edited on April 4, 2019 as I reread this: My last sentence might make it sound like she’s gone from this world. Not at all. She was just gone from my proximity. She’s long been back and is doing well.)