Grief holds me close

Dear Phoenix,
Grief still holds me close. Last night felt like the night after J. left. The grief felt insurmountable, so I just let it take me. Again. And today, Grief is still there, in the wings. When I get too still, too quiet, Grief is there. She is there in the emptiness of the pantry and silverware drawer. She is there in the gaping empty room that once belonged exclusively to J. She is there in the way I do certain things that J. taught me because they are efficient and mindful of living with someone else. Grief is there when I remember I never wanted to live alone again. I never thought I would. Grief is there when I long for J.'s voice inside these walls.
I miss her, Phoenix. I miss J. How much change am I to bear? How much loss?

I have nothing inspiring to write tonight. One thing i do sometimes let in is that I have survived through the loss of you, irreplaceable you. Though, then I follow up with the next thought of: maybe I was able to do that because I had J. in my life. Now what? No Phoenix. No J. What a damn mess. I am terribly lonely.
Me

Numbers

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
So, the date is 7/11/11. It is the day after J. moved out. To say I'm depressed is an understatement, but it's the word I have. Finally I fed myself today (a dear sister came to me last night with food and loving support). It's amazing how depression persuades so much that is antithetical to self-care. I'll go swim soon too, even though I've talked myself out of it several times already. What am I waiting for? Why am I so inert in this? Some of it has to do with myself catching up, I think. Trying to integrate the emptiness in the house when just yesterday she was here. Trying to remind myself what has happened. Replaying the final good-bye. Remembering the weeks of preparation for this. The long conversations. The wrenching emotion witnessed in one another. The taking down of photos/memories/promises from the walls, the shelves, our hearts. Remember we did all that? Remember, she did not just disappear, vanish. We have walked this long unwinding labyrinthian road together before we said goodbye. Remember?

And yet, the grief has her way that I must follow through more muck of regret, sorrow, missing, anger, begging and gratitude. I follow even though I am weary. What else is there to do? I think of things I could do and every time I play it out, I find grief somewhere. Unhappiness and grief because J. is not here. Even in the scenarios she could be here, I still find grief.

And moments of WuWu. Yesterday morning as I sat in my chair, I was thinking/praying/wondering how J. and I will find our way out of these ashes. I looked up right at the moment that two herons flew over the house. They were higher than the trees, but I could tell they were herons. Two. Then when Beetle and I left for a while so J. could move out of the house, our walk took us to what felt like a new world. We followed a trail we hadn't been on before and came to a lake, no a double lake, surrounded by a path that was literally a figure 8. This is significant to me, this shape of an 8. It has become a symbol, a path of moving energetically between worlds, so to speak. The number itself is a double and of course represents in mathematics, infinity. (and I noticed while signing into write this post, there have been 88 posts so far in this web log as of today!)

And so...I continue to move between the world of grief and other places, through other doorways. My roots however are deep in the wet earth of grief. I promise to be with myself and ask for help.

And...ok, I will go swim now, even though I really don't want to. Feels like there are more important things to do...like sit and stare and cry. I can always come back to that though, I suppose.
Love you Phoenix. I know you are near.
Love,
Me

White Heron

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
It's one of those double number days: 7/7/11. Today a white heron flew over to my neighbor's fish pond. I saw her descend through the trees and thought she looked white, but the sunlight was in such a way it was difficult to be sure. Then a little while later, I saw her fly over towards the house and then down to our pond! And yes, she was white!

Heron continues to teach me by showing herself to me as a reminder, I think, I am Hers and on the WEb. She also often uses poignant timing in her appearances. Today the timing was uncanny. J. and I were in a difficult moment of deciding whether or not to spend the morning together. It's painful to be together knowing that these are the last days. For me, I cherish every moment and want/accept/seek the moment, even if it is uncomfortable. I figure, there will be forever after this Sunday of time without her and the pain will still be there, even worse. And/But, not everyone is like me that way. So, it was difficult this morning talking about her leaving for the day and not having time together. She got up to get some water and like it seems to wonderfully happen, my eyes found Heron descending through the trees over to my neighbor's pond! I spoke it aloud. Then when J. came back into the room, she flew towards us at the window and over the house to our pond! There she fished for a while, showing me her exquisite white long neck and tall elegant body.

This past weekend a sister, with whom I share a similar affiliation to Heron, shared her awareness/knowing that white herons are associated with Death Priestessing. Last night I wrote in my journal that this week of J. preparing to leave feels like we are each preparing in our own ways for a death. Like one might do in the days before putting a companion 'to sleep' or removing life support from a loved one. There has been lots of grief and crying. Tenderness. Agitation. Aggravation. Tenderness. Gentleness. Quiet. Shared moments of watching night fall outside. Meals shared with one another. Some advice and reminders of how to do things when she's gone. Tenderness. And did I say, tenderness. And grief. I've never walked this part of a labyrinth with anyone. I've never been with anyone as we consciously approach the end of a connection. A death is happening. We are dying. Our way of being together for almost eight years is dying. Sunday will mark another death when J. physically leaves and I will be left. There's no way around it. So, we have been going through it, Death Priestessing ourselves and one another. So, it makes perfect sense for White Heron to arrive on the scene.

This last Sunday, marking the week before J. leaves, Beetle hit me in the mouth with her head and busted my lip. She was so scared of the fireworks and was trying to get on my bed. I leaned down to grab her paws and help her up and Wham! right in the kisser! J. was so loving and tended to this intense experience with me. My lip swelled immediately and I might have had a slight concussion (the next day I was pretty headachey). The meaning? My mouth has been a site of trauma over the years. Speaking my truth as often been a challenge. There is much energy there. I wonder if some release of energy there needed to happen as part of this death, this letting go, this transition that seems like an end, and may hopefully be a beginning. And maybe there was no grand scheme involved. But the sweetness that came from J. afterwards was precious. I will always be forever grateful for her sweetness over the almost 8 years. Her protectiveness, her strength, her power as a Drummer, her wisdom, her guidance, her clarity, her tenderness....her Love of me and the Life that was she and I, as we have lived it thus far.

Thank you, White Heron, Death Priestess. You have blessed us.

Love,
Me

Phoenix's 11th Birthday

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
Today is your birthday: July 2, 2011. Beetle is beneath the desk as I'm writing, well...now she's pacing because there are fireworks outside exploding! I imagine you pacing the floors with her. How I hate this weekend every year!

Today I saw a heron. No, not the young one who's been visiting at our pond, though she has been frequently there in the mornings, fishing. This one was on the way back from dinner tonight. Like often happens, my eyes decide to look right through the trees to the river at the exact moment and there on a felled tree in the middle I see the large back of a heron, her head is tucked and her back is puffed out, broad. She looks like she is cloaked. I've seen this look when I've seen herons on the edge of the waters along the ocean. She looks like a crone, cloaked and still.

This morning, I woke from a poignant dream where I was readying to begin "my work" as a colon hyrdrotherapist. The room was prepared, the environment felt safe and comfortable and people had arrived and were so ready to begin. We were working out how to decide who would go first since many of them were ready. Once we figured out the fair way to decide the order, I remembered I'd forgotten to tell them that I'd not been trained to do this work. Someone of authority (my colon hydrotherapist) told me I could do it, but I hadn't gone through the training, actually, I hadn't even practiced yet on anyone but myself. It was humbling to admit. When I did, they left. I woke up perplexed and embarrassed wondering how in the world I could have gotten so far along without the training, just because someone said I could do it. What a fool!

I am wondering what both things mean really. I take note of the timing and wonder what they may have to do with you, wonder what message you are sending me through Crone Heron and this dream. J. is moving out in a week. I am feeling so much grief/loss and fear of being on my own again in the world. This feels like being with the Grandmother Hecate again, a Crone. Plus, I do not know what my real work is, my Service, anymore. I feel lost in so many ways right now, even though I keep affirming and am affirmed by the Web that I will find my way. I don't feel like I really have much to offer the world. Not really. I've lost a sense of myself with this separation. I'm not who I thought I was anymore. J. has been a significant compass to me...to my life. She has been my sense of home and ground.

Is that some of the dream? Have I been acting as if I've been trained for this Life/work, but really have not? Who'd trust me now? I've made so many huge tears. I have no credentials, no credibility. It's just me and the props of some kind of life/work. Intense message.

Surely, Phoenix, you have something more encouraging! Surely. Unless you are the Crone who doesn't mince words. Tells it like it is. Is it really that grueling a Truth that i need to face?

Still Listening....for you.
Love,
Me

Phoenix