The cobweb collector

by frogpondsrock on April 10, 2012

in cancer,Grief

If ever I was going to write a book, “The Cobweb Collector” would be the title, as my house is full of cobwebs and I guard them fiercely.

An orb spider spun a beautiful web from one side of the verandah to the other and so naturally everyone was banned from using the verandah for over a week, simply because I didn’t want to see the spiders hard work destroyed before she had at least eaten a fly or two. A combination of being in the silvereye’s flight path and high winds shredded the web anyway but I was pleased I had at least given her a chance.

If a spider builds an elaborate web and it is destroyed, I wonder if they have the energy reserves to build another?

My head feels cloudy and full of cobwebs, I spent most of Easter Saturday crying for my Mother and crying for myself. I have recently lost a friend as well and some of the tears were for her as well. I burst into rooms and wave my arms around and speak loudly and honestly. People don’t like honesty and noise and I can never be bothered trying to explain.

I read through the posts I had written last April and my feelings of loss are still as raw as they were then. Three years, it has nearly been three years and still all I want is to be able to crawl into my Mothers lap and have her stroke my forehead and tell me that everything will be okay.

Life is messy and chaotic and I still feel mired and uninspired.

But I will work through this.

{ 10 comments }

sharon April 10, 2012 at 12:49 pm

Looked at that photo and the old song Bad Moon Rising immediately started playing in my head. It will probably do that all day now. On a positive note – it reminds me of my youthful days, a long, long time ago ;-)

So sorry that grief still knocks you for six, it does soften eventually, honest. I dreamt about my Dad the other night and he’s been gone for almost 20 years. He was laughing at me because I was fussing over some stupid little thing. Just like he always did.

xox

frogpondsrock April 10, 2012 at 1:43 pm

It is only April that I find difficult Sharon, it is Mum’s birthday tomorrow, she would have been 67. Normally I can smile when I think of mum now. but then I have moments like this one which become doubly difficult when the missing becomes nearly unbearable again.

Cindi in Texas, USA April 10, 2012 at 1:59 pm

I wish there was something utterly brilliant I could say but there isn’t because I know how you feel. It has been five years now since my father has passed, and there are still days when I struggle to breathe from thinking about him. Sending you hugs instead.

frogpondsrock April 10, 2012 at 3:42 pm

This was enough Cindi, more than enough. Thank you for describing how I felt on Saturday, I was struggling to breathe.

Elephant's Child April 10, 2012 at 9:29 pm

My father has been gone for over twenty years and my mother eight now. And still grief (bitch that she is) pokes sharp bony fingers in my eyes from time to time. Some when I expect it (anniversaries and birthdays) and other times just out of the blue.
My heart is hurting for and with you.

river April 10, 2012 at 9:45 pm

I wasn’t close to my parents, so I no longer miss them, but I do think of them still, mostly on their birthdays and their dying days.

That moon is lovely, I picture it slowly passing over bleak, empty fields on cold nights.

Dorothy @ Singular Insanity April 11, 2012 at 10:00 am

We had one particularly stunning orb spider outside our previous house. It wove the most amazing webs. Some were so big, that they ended up being shredded by the wind, so she/he began weaving smaller ones, just next to the front door.

The boys were so tempted to tear it to bits, but I stood my ground and kept explaining how much effort the spider took in making that and that it needed it for food. Not sure if the lesson sank in, but all I can do is try.

Michael Davis April 11, 2012 at 7:59 pm

Mate sorry for your lose. I want to say you something “And Fall, with her yeller harvest moon and the hills growin’ brown and golden under a sinking sun.”. Heart touching post :(

Helena April 17, 2012 at 3:40 pm

As the elder (and presumably, wiser) of us, you are leading the way in this phase of our lives. You told me “seconds” are often worse that “firsts” and you were right. Dad died so long ago that I had forgotten how long it took before I could REALLY think of him without the grief threatening to smother me. Reading your post has reminded me. Now that Mum is gone too, I find that I am thinking of them both a lot – the “rose coloured glasses” side of me hopes that it is somehow confirmation that they are now together, as perfect soul mates deserve to be.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and emotions in such a public way – it helps me!! (and a lot of others too I should imagine). Love to you, as always. xxx

frogpondsrock April 17, 2012 at 3:50 pm

Thank you my lovely friend. I have been doubting myself lately and wondering about the point of this blog. Your response to my blog post is exactly the point of this blog. xxx

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