If you read my previous post, “The Loneliness of the Dying” you will know that my thoughts have been focused very deeply on life and death this week. Friends from my wild youth have succumbed to cancer and other male friends in their late forties and early fifties have been diagnosed with cancer.
Everywhere I look this week there is cancer. I am surrounded by it.
Amidst all this death my newest grandchild waits to be born.
Life and death, death and life all messily entwined in this existence of ours.
I can’t settle to anything, I cancelled a class I was teaching, I have swapped my days at work and I am here impatiently waiting.
Tap, tap, tappity fucking tap.
I don’t do waiting very well, I like to be doing.
The Spouse read these words over my shoulder and scoffed at me.
He asked what I was doing the other day when I spent an hour focused on an eagle in a tree? I was waiting for the eagle to fly I responded. As I was waiting, I was also doing, it was a busy kind of waiting.
I was active in my stillness
Waiting for an eagle to launch itself from a tree is active waiting. Waiting for a loved one to die or to be born is passive waiting.
I am not passive. I cant ever seem to manage passivity in any form.
In my agitation the other night, I was distracted by the sky.
I am always distracted by the sky.
I saw a skull in the clouds and photographed it for my friend who likes skulls.
I am still agitated.
I am impatient.
I give you the sky.
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And I thank you for it. Beautiful photos, all.
My pleasure Kathy.
Beautiful skies Kim, and a unique skull capture.
One puff of wind to move one tiny cloud and you would have missed it.
I asked you if you were okay and you said yes. And yet, in your words and even your pictures (your beautiful gloomy clouds with faces and skeletons) you are telling me that you really are not all right. I love that you have the courage to talk about it … to express your dismay and to admit that death in others, especially a loved one, is overwhelming, painful even defeating. You are so right, we don’t do death well, but we should. It is a part of life, it is a culmination of all things good and should be a time to celebrate all that you loved about the one who has left. A time to say thank you for all that we shared and how you made my life worth living over and over. The spirit of the loved one never leaves you … they will live on through you … you are their vessel, but they will be at peace. New life replaces old life … new chances, new joys even new pains. It is a process that we all must go through. I admire your strength at trying to come to grips with it. I am a willing listener if you want to talk … I am sorry for what you are going through.
Andrea @ From The Sol
Thanks Andrea , I am okay at the same time that I am not okay. If you met me in the physical world rather than in blog world you would probably be surprised to see that I am a very cheerful person.
Beautiful images – as your new grandchild will be 🙂 I have one little grandchild and he has certainly changed my life – all 27 months of him 🙂
(I have started a new photo challenge -orange – if you like to take part 🙂 )
You’ve captured some moody introspection here Kim. An exploration of inner turmoil and it’s outward expression of beauty and light. Thinking of you.