157 Of 365 (366) For 2012

[ All credit to jhartho, whose lovely picture may be found here. ]


“Do not let yourself be bothered by the inconsequential.


One has only so much time in this world,

so devote it to the work and the people most important to you,

to those you love and things that matter.


One can waste half a lifetime with people one doesn’t really like,

or doing things when one would be better off somewhere else.”


[ Louis L’Amour Ride the River ]

156 Of 365 (366) For 2012

[ All credit to andrew and hobbes, whose lovely picture may be found here. ]


“Fairness, does not govern life and death.

If it did, no good person would ever die young.”


[ Mitch AlbomThe Five People You Meet in Heaven ]

149 Of 365 (366) For 2012

[ All credit to Olivier-B, whose lovely picture may be found here. ]

“We want not so much a Father but a grandfather in heaven,

a God who said of anything we happened to like doing,

‘What does it matter so long as they are contented?”

[ C. S. LewisThe Problem of Pain ]

139 Of 365 (366) For 2012

[ All credit to maumau7, whose lovely picture may be found here. ]


“I’ve learned a lot this year..


I learned that things don’t always turn our the way you planned,

or the way you think they should.


And I’ve learned that there are things that go wrong

that don’t always get fixed or get put back together the way they were before.


I’ve learned that some broken things stay broken,


and I’ve learned that you can get through bad times and keep looking for better ones,


as long as you have people who love you.”


[ Jennifer WeinerGood in Bed ]

94 Of 365 (366) For 2012

[ All credit to ghdphotos, whose lovely picture may be found here.  ]


“The capacity to accept suffering for the sake of



and justice i

s an essential criterion of humanity,


because if my own

well-being and safety are ultimately more important

than truth and justice,


then the power of the stronger prevails,


then violence and untruth reigns supreme.”


Pope Benedict XVI Saved in Hope: Spe Salvi  ]

27 Of 365 (366) For 2012

[All credit to dodotaxi, whose lovely picture may be found here]

“The most savory grape,

the one that produces the wines with best texture and aroma,

the sweetest and most generous,

doesn’t grow in rich soil but in stony land;

the plant,

with a mother’s obstinacy,

overcomes obstacles to thrust its roots deep into the ground and take advantage of every drop of water.


my grandmother explained to me,

is how flavors are concentrated in the grape.”

[ Isabel AllendePortrait in Sepia ]

What My Mother Said Next

via "Mothers Are Home" @ blogspot.com/

“Mother’s love is peace.

It need not be acquired,

it need not be deserved.”

[Erich Fromm]

I previously shared a snippet out of my mother’s journal, which she kept in anticipation of my arrival, in “From My Mother’s Lips”.

Whenever I feel the need for motherly warmth, I return to it. As someone commented rightly on the above post, she left me the most amazing gift:

” A glimpse into her heart.”

This entry, to me, holds a sense of strength and continuance. I share this not only so you may know me more through her words, but also so maybe – just maybe – this may make you smile.

I share this for you, my dear Patrice and everybody else in need of a motherly touch:

“Today is the 27th day of August. We are in the 35th week. You are expected to arrive on the 2nd of October, in approximately 6 weeks.

Are you getting excited? What sorts of preparations have you made for your coming? Are you anticipating the journey out of darkness?

Well, just don’t be afraid, we’ll all three be there helping each other.

Oh! You’re hopping about in me again. Are you happy? Do you feel the warmth of the sun upon you? Do you want out?

I had a dream last night and when I awoke, I felt great – so strong and unafraid.

Well as dreams go it was complicated and intricate and rather illogical.

What I remember of it is driving home in Concord. It was a dark night, maybe even raining. As I turned into the driveway a white cat ran across the way caught in my headlights.

I stopped, got out and picked up the little kitten. As I stroked it and loved it, it no longer was a kitten. I was holding a baby, my baby. You had lots of dark brown hair and eyebrows already closely knit.

Then we looked at each other and we laughed. I’ve never known anyone to laugh so much. I carried you into my old bedroom at home and we laughed some more and anyone could see that we were meant to be together. We really liked each other.

Then Rose and others from the hall gang came by to investigate,  and I showed them my new baby. Well, Rose didn’t approve at all. Realistic as she is, she assured me, that it couldn’t possibly be my child and that some half scared mother was probably searching frantically for her lost child. I didn’t want to believe her. But together we went out on the driveway and lo and behold the real mother did come and joyfully took you home.

So now I’m back to waiting.”

[ “Your Song” – Ellie Goulding (Elton John Cover) ]

Show Me How To Bear The Sound Of Silence

“Silence makes the real conversation between friends.

Not the saying but the never needing to say is what counts.”


[Margaret Lee Runbeck]


Today, whilst searching for the right quote for my daily post in the 365 of 2012 project, I came across this great quote and it got me thinking.

Unfortunately, I can’t seem to find it anymore and I don’t even know who to attribute it to ( I want to say Emerson. It sounds like something Emerson would say or at least something people would attribute to him).

So for lack of exact wording, you will have to make do with what I can recall:

“As we go through life we find, that our closest friends are not the ones who console us and offer words of wisdom, but those who can bear sitting next to us in silence, suffering through the bewilderment and loss that can not be described, without the need for words to connect to us and our feelings”

[Maybe Emerson]

This stunned be (and oh I wished I had been insightful enough to bookmark it). Deeply.

I think mostly, because I’m not good with silence.

And I don’t mean the awkward silence, nobody’s good with those.

And I don’t mean the natural silence, when all has been said, everybody’s good with those.

I mean the painful silence, when someone you feel connected to, suffers.

I can’t bear it!

Not only, because I want to make them feel better. Everybody wants to lift the spirit of people they care about, when those are feeling low.

I can’t bear it, because I need to let them know, with words (many words), that they are not alone, that I am there with them, that I treasure them and I feel for them and feel with them.

I want them to hear my voice reciting the wonders of who they are, so that my voice might echo in them and in response they can hear their own voice repeating it.

Over and over again. Until they believe it or they feign to believe it just to have me shut up – whatever comes first.

I understand, that this is just a way of comforting myself. For if the pain of the one close to me is vanquished (by words), driven back into the misty fog from hence it came, I too can rest easy.

I’m sorry.

I wished, I understood the art of silent companionship in need.

I wished, I could make you feel loved and worthy and understood with my presence and my presence alone.

This is one of the things I want to learn.

To listen to the grieving silence and to bear it.

To make a stand for someone by shutting up.

To give comfort to others and not to comfort myself.


For now, I can’t.

Please know, that I only want to see you happy and in the attempt of forcing a smile on your lips (in the hopes it might then enter your heart as well) I fight demons the only way I know how: With loud noises.

So please forgive me, if I talk to much.

I will try to breathe more between sentences at least.

From My Mother’s Lips

“Mothers hold their children’s hands for a short while, but their hearts forever.”


As the 10th of October draws closer with every day and with it my 30th birthday, I have experienced a turmoil of mixed emotions: Pain, sadness, grief, anger, confusion and helplessness. I can’t help but believe, that the passing of this day will mark the passing of these feelings.

Until then, as I am at loss for words, I feel it is only appropriate to let my mother speak. The following passage is taken from her diary, which she commenced in anticipation of my arrival.

May 31 1981

I’m sitting here in the midst of wild flowers, tall grass, surrounded by a deep forest, overhead a blue and white speckled sky.

I left your Daddy and our home for today with a most definite intention of being alone with you. I feel you inside me off and on all day long, and as you beat your hands and feet against me in outrage and protest begging for more room – breathing space, my stomach extends itself evermore in sympathy with you.

Anyways, this morning, after consuming a copious breakfast, the two of us left your dear father to play soccer and bounced of down the road looking for a utopic resting ground. All for the noise from the traffic below it is ideal – don’t you agree? And already two young deer danced before our eyes. Sometimes I’m amazed at how beautiful life can be. Your life to me is wonderful. Your father marvels at the beauty of you and tenderly caresses and kisses you. Do you feel him through all those protective layers?

I don’t know if you realize, that this is the first and the last time, that the two of us will so intimately be as one.

The field wherein we lie is full of multi-colored wild flowers and we lie here in all our blissful nakedness, so innocent, none would dare breath a discouraging word.

Balancing The Seasons

“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break.” 

[ William Shakespeare ]

Today is the 11th of September 2011.

How much power a date has. It has become a code for a variety of emotions all across the world: 09.11.01

I have always been a strong believer in the power of words. I kept a journal from a very young age and for a long time I basically lived between the pages of my favorite books. There are books that I read over and over again and every time I finish them I feel like I am losing a good friend.

Up until this day I remember things said to me more clearly than images. The word (written or spoken) impacts me enormously and I feel that is the case for most people (if not all).

So being at loss for words is terrifying to me – it makes me feel helpless and scared.

There are not a lot of moments that I have not been able to explain, analyze and define.

09.11.01 – this series of numbers does this to me. It robes me of the ability to capture my feelings in words. Not being able to voice an emotion makes it larger than life. It makes it scary. So although I feel very inadequate in finding the right words I know I must try:

My heart aches for all the lives lost, for all the memories unbuilt, for all the words unsaid, for all kisses unkissed, for all the laughter unlaughed and the tears unwept.

I feel for the children (boys and girls) that lost a pa- rent to this tragedy more than for anybody else. I don’t want to diminish the grieving of a spouse, sibling or dear friend, but the thought of the mother- less and fatherless children literally breaks my heart and I know this is because in every bewildered look I see myself and I intertwine my grief with theirs.

I hope and pray that they will have guidance and understanding and will come out of this merely scarred and not broken.

Society has to realize that this trauma is real, it is strong and it impacts our future generation as a whole.

Fortunately I feel that there has been a lot of progress made in this area when it comes to recognising and understanding the impact it has on souls of all ages, but especially on the young ones.

In the words of Sandy Dahl, wife of Jason Dahl Pilot of Flight 93:
“If we learn nothing else from this tragedy, we learn that life is short and there is no time for hate.”

Contrarily to the old belief that “time heals all wounds”, I have come to the understanding, that time does not heal anything that has wounded us so deeply as the loss of a parent. Time may only help to stretch out the seasons of grieving and mourning and happiness and laughter.

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven”

                                                                [ Ecclesiastes 3:1 ]

As I truly belief, that a trauma of such intensity can never be diminished or healed or trust aside in any other way, all that we can truly hope for is a balance of those season.

So in closing I would say I pray for long seasonal summers for those children filled with happiness, joy and especially a sense of belonging and very short winters and during those winters I hope they have someone by their side to provide them with a warm blanket and a hot cup of cocoa.