When these 40 days of writing began my sister was still alive. I had just visited her, been at a party in her house, and conceived of a plan for the next steps in her life. Steps that would have to be taken as her resources were dwindling away. Five days later she passed and since that time, I have secured her house, planned her services, and helped in getting her buried. I have paid her bills and am working on eliminating 90 years of accumulated earthly treasures, including her house.
Today, her grandkids were here going through everything and taking all of the things important to them and useful for their lives. They helped take a truckload to the dump. And They drove a truckload and an SUV load of goods away. I showed the house to a prospective buyer. And I traveled south for a visit with my brother. Any chance I get to spend with him, I do. Back home this evening the house is emptier. The TV is gone. There is only me and you and the computer screen now. My last distraction from this has headed south.
When these 40 days of writing began my sister was still alive. The opportunity to write down everything as my sister passed, as the events progressed and my insides churned has been a blessing, And to have you read it, and make such caring and kind comments have been a source of great relief. It has made me feel less crazy and less alone while I have been engaged in this walking meditation on mortality.
Thank you Dippers! Each and every one of you who has taken the time to read what I have written and taken the time to write your own stunning stories. I would like to go on poetically about how much it has meant to me, but I am really weary to the bone tonight, so I will just again send my thanks.
Should any of you want to be in contact for reading or writing or anything, here is my email: dbradac@gmail.com . Thank you dippers! Thank you so very much.
— DanielSouthGate
Today, her grandkids were here going through everything and taking all of the things important to them and useful for their lives. They helped take a truckload to the dump. And They drove a truckload and an SUV load of goods away. I showed the house to a prospective buyer. And I traveled south for a visit with my brother. Any chance I get to spend with him, I do. Back home this evening the house is emptier. The TV is gone. There is only me and you and the computer screen now. My last distraction from this has headed south.
When these 40 days of writing began my sister was still alive. The opportunity to write down everything as my sister passed, as the events progressed and my insides churned has been a blessing, And to have you read it, and make such caring and kind comments have been a source of great relief. It has made me feel less crazy and less alone while I have been engaged in this walking meditation on mortality.
Thank you Dippers! Each and every one of you who has taken the time to read what I have written and taken the time to write your own stunning stories. I would like to go on poetically about how much it has meant to me, but I am really weary to the bone tonight, so I will just again send my thanks.
Should any of you want to be in contact for reading or writing or anything, here is my email: dbradac@gmail.com . Thank you dippers! Thank you so very much.
— DanielSouthGate
Thank you. I have not lost a sibling so I cannot really compare. This time and writing with you Daniel and the Dippers has nourished so deeply
ReplyDeleteI will email. Same to other feathered Dippers. Email if you'd like at msmithmarston@gmail.com. You will always be presytoe.
Most of all I wish good rest for you & return your thanks many times over.
ReplyDeleteMy heart is with you!
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your journey. Thank you also for reading and commenting.
ReplyDeleteLkai@lydiansharp.net
I am touched by the repeat of that sentence: "When these 40 days of writing began my sister was still alive." You have been through a transition as she has, of a different kind. I am glad we were able to help, both distract and support. Your writing has been important to me... (Macoff)
ReplyDelete