Bounty

You may be glad to know that I have sought out support for my grieving and the big losses of this past year.  Thing is…in short, I’ve been given permission to write it out, paint it out, cry it out, sand it out…do it out…whatever it takes.  I guess it’s not for others to judge the form that grief takes in others, so don’t worry on the mornings when you see twenty blog entries…it’s my manic grief finding expression…and if I can find a way to breath, then my readers can as well.  I guess I’m asking you not to suggest when to empty my closets. Thing is, you folk need to know that I’m not sharing my dark nights with you here…in fact, the only clue you really should have that something is going on, is the extent of my writing.  I’m keeping a private journal for the dark moments. I’m painting a mandala for my mother in the deadly quiet moments.  I’m painting again. (Thanks, Mom.)

“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”

T.S. Eliot

Action is key in my life…taking action of any sort that is not harmful to others is typically alright with me.  I’m not one to have in my language, words like boredom, fear or helplessness.  I’m all about ‘doing something’ about everything.  It will be helpful though, if I have the support of my family and friends as you observe this very phenomena…it is likely not that unfamiliar to you, in regards to ‘moi’…please don’t judge me because if I feel I need to do something differently ‘for your comfort’, then I will struggle needlessly.  I’m tending, lately, to be alone…at home, but also in crowds.

I am the one who is NOT contributing to a conversation, and when I am, I am not doing it very well.

I am the one who is arguing with confrontational atheists, likely because they are rattling the cage of the very thing that is getting me through this, my faith.

I am the one who is booking into countless programs in the city…more so than ever before, if that is possible, as a way of not staying home where I hear every now and then, “Oh, it’s time to skype with Mom.”

I am the one who is blogging about ridiculous things and taking photographs of step-by-step recipes.

I am the one who is enforcing by-laws about back yard fire pits and front yard cats.

I am the one who becomes confused over more than two instructions/directions and I am the one who will stare blankly at you, rather than ask for clarity.

I am the one who loses track of the number of cups of coffee I have sipped while watching birds at my bird feeder, wrapped in Mom’s flannel nightie…and in her flannel house coat…ten sizes too large, but, as close as I can physically get to her.

I am the one who could not host a Thanksgiving feast at my feast table this year because Elma would not be there…for the first time in a zillion years…because this year, as my own mother was battling pneumonia, dearest Elma was quietly slipping into the arms of heaven also.

The news of the world continues to roll…a giant super storm on the other side of the world, gives me pause and I bow my head for strength for India.  So many mothers.  So much loss.  But still…in all of this…there is BOUNTY.  Here, I am warm…I am sheltered…I am well-fed…I am blessed with my three beautiful children.  There is bounty everywhere I look.  This year in Alberta, a bumper crop for the farmers.  The fields look glorious this harvest.  The trees are golden and the sky, blue.  I am safe and blessed.

I received a phone call from Bobby…spoke with Bee…messaged Adrienne…left a voice mail for Mary-Lou…spoke to Yvonne on telephone…made a cell phone call to daughter, Cayley, on the coast…chatted with Glo and Bill Webb…skyped with Dad and Val, JP and Eliane and Louis…texted Margy.  Wendy asked, “How was today?” and…invited me to Beanos.  The circle of friendship continues to close around me. It seems that a feast table is a metaphor for something much larger.

With gratitude, I went to my daughter and son-in-law’s for dinner…we prepared a whole wad of recipes we have never enjoyed as a tradition at the feast table.  I have collected some images here.  It was a wonder-time with Erin, Doug and thankfully, James.  I feel blessed.

Rolled Cranberry Turkey Breast with Creamy Gravy Recipe: Canadian Living

P1130373

P1130408 Kale and Pancetta With Crispy Shallots: Canadian Living Recipe

P1130359P1130404P1130361Roasted Chili Lemongrass Squash: Canadian Living…

Highly recommend this one!

P1130342

P1130354

P1130357P1130416Roasted Root Vegetable Salad with Horseradish Vinaigrette

For me, too sweet…less honey than called for!

P1130405Chopping water chestnuts for pre-function spinach dip.

P1130349 P1130364Smashed Potatoes with Rosemary

P1130413

P1130351 P1130352 P1130356 P1130366 P1130368 P1130371 P1130417 P1130419 P1130420 P1130422P1130380

6 thoughts on “Bounty

  1. Kathleen, your words leap off the page and into my heart – especially today. My mom passed very close to Thanksgiving and I think of her often. At least now my dear dad is keeping her company 🙂 Amidst the grief there is bounty and goodness and love and all kinds of wonderful things – friends who write so beautifully and grace my day with their words 🙂 Happy Thanksgiving to you and your loved ones. The feast looks absolutely gourmet!!

    • Hi painter lady!!!!!….you remember my Sheila died in 1972…Rebecca looks like her in some ways…it is good to remember past ones with love and smiles…even a laugh or two…or three

      • I had moved to Great Falls, Montana before that, dear Mr. Carlin…I can’t imagine how much sadness you felt at the time and I am so sorry for that loss. Let me say that you are an inspiration for how positive you are and what joy you bring to the world…and I’m glad for your beautiful family and that you have one another. I remember my Mom fondly…and benefit from your recommendation of love and smiles.

  2. Grief is a very personal story, and it’s good to hear that you are writing and painting… that’s the beginning of coming back to yourself… which is also a part of the story. I so enjoyed watching you work in the kitchen… and the beautiful pictures.

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