Being still

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So it’s a sunny day in March. It’s the time of the Baha’i Fast – which I am doing spiritually this year (beautiful dawn prayers) as I don’t feel I can cope with it, while learning to accept Mum’s passing. I see this as a time of reflection and I am hoping I can get my teeth stuck into one or more of my writing projects. But I also feel a sense of drifting as I recover from the events of the past months and re-map my life now that Mum doesn’t play a physical part in it anymore.

The hardest thing for me is not being able to sit and talk things through with her. We spoke almost every day and she helped me gather my thoughts, listened to my frustrations, goals, hope, worries and excitement and assisted me in making steps forward. I am learning to do this more with Dad now. Dad is a great listener, very kind and gentle in his steps forward, he makes me realize in his responses that I can be kind to myself – that this is ok and I need to trust my abilities and ways of understanding my life. Of course Ramin is there for me in every aspect also. His support has been like a continuous bear hug of love.

Talking with my Mum was such a fluid form of communication where I often felt she understood me better than I understood myself. She still does…she’s not connected to her body anymore, but she hasn’t gone from me, from my Dad, my sister, my brother and all the family and all her friends. She’s still with us, just in a way that is now purely spiritual.

This word ‘still’ is resonating with me at the moment. She’s still here. Her soul is with me, still, always. I sit in stillness and stare out at the trees, that are still there, that are still. So, I wrote a poem on this….

Still

So I wait for you, still

caught in a tangle at the fence

look for your face, the way you walk

your red scarf muffling your neck

blond trails dancing in the breeze.

ggg

I wait for your bright smile

that complete sense of being seen and

loved by you

one of the select core

you always had time and attention for.

gig

A scrap of orange nail-varnish

still adorns the tip of my big toes

because you told me you liked it

you caught a glimpse while Dad helped you

from the bathroom to the bedroom.

gig

You liked my nails and my pink jumper

“I love that colour on you!’ you said,

and if I remove it, if I take the colour off

then I won’t see it anymore

I won’t have a tiny part of you

connected by a recent time and the memory

of your positive feedback on my choices

however small.

gig

Adrift, I’m floating aimlessly

I have to navigate using different strengths now

I do have goals and hopes, projects that interest me

But I don’t have you, in the same way

and everything has lost its edge

the meaning I could get lost in

as your encouragement was always there

and though still always here

I can’t yet see it, my map is blurry.

gig

So I wait for you,

sometimes blank and thoughtless

sometimes streaming tears that rise from my solar plexus

and travel through my blood through all veins and skin

often in remembrance of the daily love I always had

from before my birth to the night you died

and beyond, but in a different way

that is as yet, hidden from this waiting girl.

Cwmcarn Forest Drive with Rita and Viv

Mum, Dad and Ramin in Cwmcarn Forest Drive

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One comment on “Being still

  1. Dear Fleur – I have written and deleted this several times, trying to express how beautifully written it is and how much it moved me. Oh how can one truly tell of a heart missing a loved one so, and yet by seeking to express ourselves, we delve ever deeper into our minds and hearts to find just the right words and the final masterpiece is nothing but an expression of our souls, calling out with its longing and laying itself bare before its Creator. You know your mom was a very special person, and she must be so very proud to have a very special daughter like you. Love to all the family – Andisheh

    Like

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