Finding a way through.
I’m finding life challenging at the moment. Wondering how to manage, it seems to me that the tried and tested methods are the best, and I’ve written about these a lot. I use my writing to help inform my beliefs about Life, the Universe, and what to do when surprises crop up.
I’ve had a few surprises lately: News about my father that makes me grieve; a new old friend in the mix, bringing back memories from decades ago; unexpected delays over a whole host of small and not so important details. Through these concerns, the threads of life weave continuously. Meals need to be prepared, food bought and laundry dried….thank God for the small anchors of domesticity. They drive me bonkers, at times, but they also give me something to do when my brain goes off the deep end, into memories filled with dark eddies and painful compromises.
I wish I had had more courage, and talked more honestly of what mattered to me. If I had cultivated honesty instead of silence, I might be better at dealing truthfully with what matters to me now. My father, whom I love so much and without being able to express it well, is going to be passing on soon. My husband deserves to hear more about what is troubling me, but suitable words seem to be on sabbatical.
My first tool for coping is to surrender. A quote in my IN box lately came via Ingrid Bergmann, who said, ‘Happiness is good health and a bad memory’ and I am relieved to hear it. I enjoy the reminder that the past may be real, but is not as real as the shadows beneath the trees I can see over the road. And in the midst of life’s unexpected challenges, it is anyway easier not to think about our preoccupations. Somehow, that makes them bigger and more looming. As they get bigger, they cast a wider shadow over the rest of life.
The next tool is notice how far I have come. Not to dismiss the compromises and the dignified silence, but to see these as the best I could manage, at the time.
And finally, keep eating. Oatcakes at three am, with a cup of barley coffee, are remarkably sustaining, and remind me that small acts of love are just as important as big ones.
Thanks for reading. I may not post blogs for a while, and hope you will bear with me. Please do keep in touch.
Please share:
Clare Flourish
September 24, 2015 @ 8:26 am
Beautiful one,
the death of my mother over several months depressed me. Some of this can be moved through with wisdom, some of it can just be done, painfully and ignorantly. And I love your acknowledging the wisdom and effectiveness of your younger self: my suppression dealt with the problem, at the time.
Diane M Dickson
September 24, 2015 @ 9:49 am
I am deeply sorry to hear your sad news Fran.
Never ever feel that you have been anything less than courageous. In my book Fran you are a superwoman and I don’t mean to be flippant. You have beaten back challenges that most of us can’t even begin to understand.
I hope that you have the chance to spend some golden time with your father.
Love and warm hugs. xx
Janet Hughes
September 24, 2015 @ 10:21 am
Dearest Fran, don’t feel alone in the midst of all your turmoil. You have a family who loves you dearly and hundreds of friends who hold you in their thoughts and prayers. <3 xx
Jill Stowell
September 24, 2015 @ 3:03 pm
Oh Fran, such a heartfelt shout and so little any of us can do to alter your situation and the coming trials. We are as we are, if we’ve always fought to hold in feelings that other would shout from the rooftops and expect, nay, demand results, then that is who we are. You have much to care for, your dad for one, yourself for another, your family also and you will do all that and more but in your own way. And your way will be good because it’s you, it will be the way everyone expects from you and the way that will enable you to cope with it all. Now is not the time for a personality transplant. Those who love you know how much you love them. And if you are in meltdown, shout to and at us. Let friends take the flak. Take care of yourself dear Fran.
Fran Macilvey
September 24, 2015 @ 3:21 pm
Thanks, everyone. Your comments are lovely and warming. Thank you. (((xxxx)))
Elouise
September 25, 2015 @ 2:32 am
Dear Fran,
I’m so sad to hear you’re entering a tough part of your journey. Losing a parent is so difficult–regardless of the nature of the relationship. And having people crop up at unexpected times, stirring up old memories, can be most unsettling. Your instincts to lay low, keep it small and take advantage of the little blessings of life will surely help see you through. Your words will return when you need them–if not when you want them. Listen to your body (hardly a new skill for you) and to your heart. Take time to let others care for you, and to care for yourself and those you love who are walking this way with you. Make happy memories when possible; when impossible, just be present to the moment. You’re ready for this. Reaching out with a hug–across the big pond.
Elouise
Elouise
September 25, 2015 @ 2:33 am
Sorry. Just making sure I’m still signed up to get all your new posts! Whenever you’re ready….
Elouise
Fran Macilvey
October 5, 2015 @ 7:17 pm
Thank you, Elouise. I have a favour to ask you, and wonder if you could contact me at franmacilvey@fastmail.fm ? Thank you so much. xxxx 🙂
Fran Macilvey
September 25, 2015 @ 9:03 am
Thanks so much, Elouise. Bless you! xxx 🙂
Rick Harding
September 25, 2015 @ 5:25 pm
Sorry to hear about your father, Fran. Hang in and stay strong. Look after yourself.
Fran Macilvey
September 25, 2015 @ 7:36 pm
Darling Rick. Thank you! xxx