Wednesday, 1 May 2013

Beautiful Tree

 Wednesday is our 'just us' day. I've taken to calling it our 'I-like-being-me Day'. It's the day we don't rush out the door, we don't invite anyone over and we just do whatever takes our fancy. We be kind to ourselves. We take a deep breath.
Today when I took a deep breath, I burst into tears.

Can I just say I'm finding this HARD. When I was in the very centre of grief, while awful, it was very simple and clear: rest, do what you enjoy, hide if you want to, cry. But this next bit, the moving on part, the deciding each day what I feel up to, and questioning if that's even the right way to go about shaping our days... I feel like I'm at sea.
When I first started to feel up to it, I started to let friends know I'd love to catch up again. Without putting a whole lot of thought into it, I ended up seeing about 10 people in one week, each asking what had happened, how I was going, each time asking the kids to just wait a minute, to go play on their own, to stop interrupting. By the end of the week, I was a complete mess. I hid at home the following week, and have been trying to take it slowly ever since, but it's still a challenge.
As someone who as always had an open home, it feels incredibly selfish and scary. Will I ever feel like hanging out with people again?

A few weeks ago, a dear friend said to me, "This will be part of who you are now." And I thought, "No, really??" I mean, is it ok to be changed by events in our lives? Don't you just keep on living based on what your believe to be right and true? Won't I just have some time off and then go on as normal?
But now I believe her. Grief has been like a torch, shining out all the ways I've pushed myself, criticised myself, expected more than I have to give. Of course, we can't live without our world effecting and shaping us, challenging the way we've done things, forcing us to re-evaluate.

As I was reflecting on this, I was looking out over my back yard and noticed my beautiful tree with its leaves going purple and red and yellow. When I showed Tully, he asked if he could climb up and reach some pretty leaves for me. Then Evie (who has taken to wearing socks on her arms, she's not burnt or anything!) asked if she could get up too and the two of them sat up there, chatting happily and noticing new things about our yard from this new height. And I remembered I poem I wrote for a friend a little while ago that I wanted to share with you here.

When the twigs start to thaw
When the buds are formed new
Help me look to the Sun like you
When the ground is still cold
But my flowers in bloom
Help me look to the Sun like you

When my branches are full
And my shade is enjoyed
Help me rest in the Sun like you
 When the harvest is in
When glad hearts surround
Help me rest in the Sun like you

When my beauty is full
When my red crown displayed
Help me bask in the Sun like you
When my life is adorned
But death still draws near
Help me bask in the Sun like you

When humility comes
My nakedness plain
Help me wait for the Sun like you
 When sleep closes in
When loss like the leaves
Help me wait for the Sun like you.

Jodi. xx


  1. Such a beautiful poem, my beautiful friend. Thanks fior sharing.

  2. Such a moving post! I lost my sister at the beginning of February and I completely understand the struggle of moving on. I, too, wish that "normal" would come back. Day by day, I think it is getting a bit easier - I hope and pray the same for you!

  3. Your friend is so right. Everything we experience becomes a part of us, shapes us. And I suppose it would be stranger -- maybe even worse -- if it didn't work that way. This is going to be a long process for you, so don't feel any pressure to rush it and move on. One day at a time is okay.

  4. Jodi, I am blessed that you are so brave as to share these dark times here. The photos of your children in those trees are so hopeful and symbolic. Growth is all around is. The Sun, the Son is near.

  5. Jodi, thank you for sharing so much with us. This post was so moving. It felt like reading what was in my heart and head after my Mum passed away. It does become gentler, not easier(for me anyway) but talking with good friends will always help. You are more than enough just as you are.


I so love your comments! I read all of them and reply when I can. If you don't hear back, I'm lost under a mound of scraps or outside jumping on the trampoline with the kids. Jodi. xx