(((hugs)))

thanks ... received and returned! 

avoid political discussion, find the peaceful spots and don't let others get you down. God gave us all the right to have our own thoughts, so don't stress if others have thoughts that don't match yours. Imagine a world where we all had the same thoughts, eeeeeek!

I'm sorry if this is just more soapbox dancing...

Thought that you would appreciate this, so I'll pen this sentiment beneath your your reply, Barb.

Emerson quipped:
"... A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines."
Is there any wonder why I do benefit from "consistency" so? 
If you recall (thru my posts) each previous date of significance, either birthday, anniversary, etc. had been approached without demarcation.
Save for setting myself up to fail... I (without roadmaps) let each observance come, not without expectation or anticipation... but without pre-conceived attitude or behaviour.

See?
I do learn from my girls!

By being consistent here, I win large.
The event arrives with it's nominal discomforts, sure... but I am not the author of the pangs, perceived or otherwise.
I am then, as now, seemingly capable of absorbing all that comes as important and dear.
I can easily process what I want to retain and disregard the baggage... guilt free.
Then, as I have come to realize, I am able to piece together the memories that I wish to be able to call upon for next years anniversary... confident and secure in the opinion that I will be better suited to celebrate the given occasion the second or third time around.
A good and prime example of this would be Christmas.

  There was definite risk and reward in forcing traditions come last Christmas (our first without both Astrid and exactly one year after losing my own mommy).
There would be no ignoring that Christmas' would never ever be the same... a good place to begin, so I did not deny this.
Secondarily, I could have gone totally left or right in the occasion; I could have chosen to NOT celebrate the day and slide beneath the radar... collecting heavier baggage on the way ~ or I could have gone overboard in fabricating the Christmas season with tall, flimsy facades... re-creating our dear traditions in nothing more than a vacuum for the sake of the exercise.

  I thought that this would be difficult to gauge because of the children... yet, the opposite was true.
I listened and watched the girls behaviour, and listened to the gentle, tender urgings of my wife... as well, I heeded the oft stern scoldings of my mom.
I prayed for guidance.
All my answers came out of simplicity and consistency.

  I will surely live to rue the day that I deny myself the opportunity for new memories... especially whilst the girls are so, so young.
Or worse Barb... denying them their memories.
I have NO right.

  Shelved were my selfish desires for what was now gone.
Opened was the door to new and potentially elegant, poignant experiences borne out of 'family love'.
Un-crated were as many of the traditions of the season that my mother had worked so hard to preserve for us.
Mix, add patience and love and spread evenly over family.

  As a result, we, together created a landscape where we could  celebrate, laugh, cry... but together, as the loving family we are.
No self-denial, little guilt and magically...
Christmas became 'ours' once more.
'and in putting away the decorations, we tenderly placed our 'roadmap' for next year and years to come inside the cardboard box.

The anniversary of the accident this weekend will be approached the same way.

We know that we are not alone...
Mommy's powerful memory will celebrated in and amongst great love.

It's one thing to analyze the grieving process.
It's one thing to recognize the tools of mourning...
It's one thing to keep telling yourself that we are capable of the journey...
Yet It's quite another to 'do the work necessary'.

You'll forgive us if we are just a little bit proud of ourselves.

I think we are going to be just fine...



(thanx for reading)

Thanx for caring...

Ah, the fallen nature of man.
Let's be careful to keep our Christian bearings about us...

I'm 53 and perhaps even more "idealistic" than I was as a kid, but I get ill when I see the other kids fighting at recess.  Why can't we all just get along, ya know? 

I hadn't noticed the political ranting. I guess we are traveling through different blogs.