On meltingThaw (v):
1.) To change from a frozen solid to a liquid by gradual warming 2.) To become less formal, aloof, or reserved Thawing Part I: Soon And the heat In the air Just melts me And the heat From above Just melts me Ice Queen to Sun Queen In one season Spirit Sings Skin Glows Hair Long Freedom Just like the good ol' days Days o' my youth Seeking Now Wisdom Of my womenhood Of my motherhood That Freedom From Experience From Pain From Beauty Maturity From Love Strong & Pure From Woman Ready Now Melting into Strong Gentle Woman I am Feeling Hot Healing Summer Sun Burning me To my soul Thawing: Part II: Today Auntie's cooking dinner In the kitchen Little Ru Lets out a cry Her determination An inspiration The children sit They watch Grandma too Frozen Let it go Let it go Writing Like my tears Dancing Running through woods Painting Snow melting Releasing Composting the old What no longer serves us Let it go Let it go To birth anew Bloom Beautiful Create my now My tomorrow Gift of my life My mom's gift to me Central NY Snow melting Thawing out It's time Over due Heaven on Earth New York Summers Yet Here we are Wind Rain Not cold Not warm Sculptures of old dirty snow Everywhere Gray skies Gloomy days My Life My childhood Parts of it Like old dirty snow Serving no one Let it go Let it go Like melting dirty snow That's me Just like Sculptures Of old dirty snow Waiting to Melt Into Green Into Life Into strong and gentle woman Into that hot-healing-NY-sun But Today Still Sculptures Old Dirty Snow Waiting to Melt And me Waiting to Let Go into the Sun
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Of Faith & Grace“And the day came
When the risk it took to remain tightly closed in the bud Was more painful than the risk it took to bloom. This is the element of freedom.” ~Anais Nin & Alisha Keys Sometimes I just lay down About once a week I give my body & mind time to catch up To integrate the pain And the freedom on the other side One night I watched the clock For one hour Tick Tock 3600 seconds I thought about How precious one hour of my Mom’s life is How precious one hour of my life is Your life And I watched it go by Laying on the couch Today Challenging day Not the beginning But at my mom’s Some days just are Accepting that Days when I feel like the scapegoat Poor Megsy When I take on more than is mine When I take things personal When I think I am in control Haha Haven’t I learned those lessons yet? Those deep lessons from little Meg The girl who knew it all Who could save the world Haha The only one I can save is me And from that place I am in service to others That I know But sometimes I forget Today I forgot Suddenly I can please no one And then I realize that’s not my job In the moment I can’t see it In the moment I struggled & blamed & tried to get back on top In everyone’s eyes To fix it But I can’t When I come in mid-day To mom And the Doubt Of course it’s heavy We’re all worried And stressed And there’s big decisions still to be made And we know where this is all is headed Doomsday Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooooo…. That it’s not But it is deep Full of sorrow Loss Closure Final End of life And none of us want to let go So it’s easy to get scared I don’t like it when I walk in And it’s like that Scared Didn’t we take care of this? Remember the Looking Glass, Ma? And I know Life We are constant Works in progress Us humans Grace & faith Are a practice To be maintained On the daily In every moment Sunday morning was a fine example Just yesterday Things were different We woke up Connected to the place Of faith and grace It was a party An honoring Of life Of Aunt Mary Anne My cousins were coming into town My cousin and his wife And my younger cousin Who lives in their basement We were joking Before they arrived Which of her favorite nightgowns would she wear? She said, “Can I ask you a favor?” “Yes” “Would you change your sweater?” My warm wool sweater with a little hole in it Over my jammies I still needed to shower “Yeah, mom I will. I still haven’t gotten ready yet.” Made me chuckle As we had just talked about how girlie I had gotten Again I know what my mom was thinking That this was a phase Like high school My mom said she wondered when I was going to Get over it Or sick of it Or be done with it Or something like that I just smiled Because I won’t I’m not going to stop taking care of me Didn’t go into the details then The reasons How that time getting ready It's for me When I care for me When I honor my beauty within The body is a temple While it is strong Let’s love it Honor it And when it begins to fail us Let’s love it Honor it Always So we both got ready in our own way On Sunday Just yesterday When it felt like a party Maybe not a happy party But a party still As we got closer to the stairs Should I call my step-dad? “I want Colin to help me.” My sweet cousin My guy cousins Some of the best dads and hubbies Truly family men Great providers & nurturers I love these guys So honored to call them cousins "Colin..." She called Tears welled In my eyes Something About my peers Seeing cancer Aging my mom It gets me I want to protect them Because I know This part of growing up It's really hard And because Their hearts Go out to me My mom, after all Plus, my cousin and his wife They were visiting Portland Day we found out Our mom has cancer We were all together With the kids Yesterday I felt the circle Coming complete We got down the stairs I stepped into the kitchen to cry Met my step-father there And then we did What we do What our family does That Sunday Just yesterday My step-sister and her 9 month joined us I heard the Deacon stopped by Brought communion But I missed him Somehow So the Aunt Mary Anne honoring began I cooked food We talked We laughed We played games At least Phoenix did with my younger cousin The one who encouraged me Keep writing Keep blogging Thanks, cuz And then They left And I hoped they saw my mom again And we had a little break A little down time Before the celebration continued When one of my mom’s best friends and mentors arrived With another dear, old friend From the Sacred Heart Days They laughed My mom was pretty darn funny Her dry sense of humor They told stories Laughed and laughed Caught my mom up on school news I edited writing Listened with one open ear + an open heart. Then another break And I lingered Not wanting to go And then we went on our way Me & Phoenix With my mom awaiting one more special evening visitor Another old family friend We are blessed by our loved ones My mom is so blessed Loved That was our Sunday Beautiful Sad, yes But beautiful State of grace where I want my mom to be held Supported on her journey But sometimes she is far From that state From me Or I am far from her When I am far from me Like today When I walked through the door And I could feel The fear and anxiety I got swirled in Lost in the downward spiral And then we’re all flailing And I am the little girl lost once more Angry I am not being shown the way Angry I don’t have the support & respect I need To bloom Angry at myself For I can’t get the big picture Then I cry I hang my head I fall I get angry Today After I felt too much criticism I sat and ate my dinner With old friends Then I know my mom is no longer asleep upstairs I can feel her She needs me And I find her In pain, cold, and hungry I cover her up Reheat her dinner Give her a pill from the Monday pm box The one I think is her pain pill A half hour later we realize The pain pill is still in the box But tonight placebo kicked in Or rather Faith and Grace Returned to us And we talk About the day About how she doesn’t want Me to whisper On the phone In the kitchen with my sister About her Ok, mom I can do that I probably don’t even say I can do that I probably explain why I did it Justify myself Because That’s the type of daughter I am But I do it sweetly And from the heart Because she’s still my mom And I have needs too While she’s here She gets to be my mom sometimes Even though I feel More like the mom sometimes A part of me always has But we love each other All we can do The best With what we were given The best we can With our past Find the peace That comes with Faith and Grace And wait for the freedom And we talk about the issues of the day Her day with cancer Because every day it’s different Sometimes it’s the body Sometimes it’s the mind Always the spirit Some days all three Always the spirit For this is why I am really here with her To prepare her to go home to God to Heaven If that’s what she believes To meet Creator To be One with the Divine To feel worthy and ready To be FREE To do that I help ease her body & mind The pain she carries there To nurture For this dying It’s all part of life And I will do my best to see She has dignity In this last bit Of her time with us Midwife for the Dying I always thought that was a beautiful term And know I understand It is beautiful So don’t fret, mother Of course Unless you need to Because we all need to Sometimes I did tonight But let it get you closer To that state of grace Where you are held By God Because That’s where you’re going Where there’s no fear So let’s be ready Get our best night gown on Get out of our hole-y sweaters And feel like the women we are Beautiful in our own way While there’s still time The party The celebration Where we laugh Cry Laugh til we cry Honor Love Where we have faith We trust in life And what’s beyond this life Beyond good and bad Beyond happy and sad You’re getting closer Closer to God Have Faith It’s what we got Held by Grace So we had our peace Our closure for the night Tonight I only leave When I’ve said What I need to When I can look Back at the night And feel content If this was our last night Together I say my goodbyes Hug and kiss I get ready Me & my son All our stuff And I check in Again To make sure To remind her to call Me or my sister When she needs to talk Any time of night If her dreams wake her If she just needs to talk To process As she gets ready Tying up loose ends It’s a big journey The journey to freedom Tonight As Phoenix and I pull into the driveway Of the very good people We are staying with Five deer Walk across the neighbor’s lawn I haven’t seen Five deer In the wild Ever before It was a big group Powerful Majestic in the snow and night On the trek To find their nourishment Gentle & Strong Strong in their Gentleness Gentle in their Strength I saw My mom With her four children Safe together On their journey Coming together In the beginning of spring For the final days In this winter of life Before we bloom Into what is next Here We Go All Together Now Into the Freedom xoxo Innocence & Wisdom"Free floating anxiety," my mom calls it.
When you're worried. Anxious. But why? Not exactly sure. Any number of reasons from the past the present the future. You name it. There's always something to worry about. Free floating anxiety. My mom carries it. Me too. Something we're both letting go of. I walk in the door yesterday. After hello, first thing out of my mom's mouth is Some free floating anxiety. Rooted in something real, taken to an extreme. Fear-based. I told my mom a few weeks ago, I am done with that type of anxiety. Known as a fear of a man. I did that most of my childhood. And then I repeated a different form of that with my ex. Uh, done. Thanks. Free floating anxiety, a different kind Rears its head big-time when a loved one is sick & suffering. Them. Us. It can be contagious. There's all the stress from coping with the illness. The body giving away. 63 year old people looking like they're 85. Every movement is a struggle. The stress. Death on the horizon. Loss like no other. Final. When cancer strikes, there's the love between people & families that is so strong. It can become a sad love. Joyous too. Then there's all the family dynamics that existed before the diagnosis. Dysfunctional dynamics that flare up under the stress. That flare up to be healed. To let that stuff go. Fear. Very rarely does it serve us. The stuff that holds us back. So here we are with some of that today. The floodgates opened. Releasing that anxiety. Lots of tears and letting go. My son starts hitting me, thinking I am making Grandma cry. Ooooooooooooooooooooooookkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.... Here we are. Here we go. Hold on. And I do. And I have learned to ask for help when I need it. "Hey, sis. Can you do a session for mom? I think she could use your help." "Send me the couple questions she has." "K." The many perks of my sister's line of work. Thanks, sis. We send the questions. Back to life. Dinner time. Tears released for now. Calm over the house. "I'm hallucinating," my mom calls from the other room. "Ok, mom." My mom is on a lot of Hospice narcotics. She has very advanced cancer. At some point these things happen. "Are you seeing things?" No reply. Then the wave of dinner rushed over us and I forgot about my mom's hallucinations. Soon she was making her way over to the table to eat with my son & me. Awesome! It had been several weeks since my mom joined us at the table. Dinner conversation. Then my mom was talking talk. Talk I couldn't quite follow. Hhmmmmm.... My brain was straining to understand. Something about family members. Life. Can't remember the exact. Then, "see there's Crayola, but I'm not sure there's Crayola inside," she said philosophically pointing to a plastic art box with a torn Crayola sticker on it. Oh, yeah.....hallucinating. Now I remember. "Hey, ma is this like Alice?" "Yes." "I like it," I said with a big smile and laugh. My mom letting go. Letting loose. Because it's all out of our hands. Release that fear of pain, suffering, the unknown, the unresolved. We mine as well enjoy the ride. This last honoring of Mary Anne. Her zany, wacky, creative side. She's sick. I know that. But with all other sickness I've known, we get better. She'll get better. Right? "Does this ever feel like a dream?" I asked her earlier today. Pre-hallucinations. "Yes." And last night, "does it ever feel like you're in a totally different body?" "Yes." So, there's no getting better in the physical. Eventual shedding of the body. No new body delivered in the mail. If my step-father could order it, he would. I believe in miracles. I also accept this is probably the last bit of Grandma Mary we have. I wish it were different. But there's still time. Time for emotional and spiritual, if not physical, healing. And part of that healing is letting go of the fear that has held us captive. My sister calls after dinner, during the chess game. I didn't realize she had done my mom's reading. And it was right then when the lucidness began. The freedom. Powerful stuff. Shifting that free floating anxiety. Thanks again, sis. I put my sis on the phone with our mom. Soon the phones back in my hands, my mom not holding the conversation very well. "How was the session?" Something like this.... Mom is crystal clear right now in who she is. Where's she's going. Our step-dad is so very noble. Like a sweet giant with a little bird. Mom is the little bird he just wants to save. Big sigh. Big love. For them both. For my step-father who will be left behind. For my mom who is peaceful & accepting, but doesn't want to be in pain. No fear. Just love. So the night went on, With my mom stronger than I've seen her in a long time. Free. Moving around the kitchen. Giving me directions. Me, laughing in the freedom of the moment. Our liberation. And the wisdom. And the giggles. Me & my sis feeling like we accomplished something big. We gave our mom the gift we'd been trying to for years. Freedom. Loving yourself. Trusting Life. She told my sister, "I am starting to think maybe this stuff in between the cakes is yummy." Yeah, mom. Bet it is. She told me, "The problem is you laugh at your son." "Me, mom?" "What you're doing with him, well it's not working. It's still happening." Clear as a bell. Grandmotherly wisdom. And she's right. Do I laugh at him....hhhmmm.....? But my son is certainly working with some dysfunctional anger issues. I am learning how to be assertive. Have clear boundaries with a male family member. My little boy, yes. Gotta know how to treat a woman, yes. She's right. I can't avoid this. Thanks, Grandma. Another sigh. And then we land just where we belong. Divine balance between innocence and wisdom. Going back to the place it all began. To the place of the child. Where we're free. Strong. Clear. A little wacky, but we know. And we can live our knowing. Free of fear. Free floating anxiety, what's that? I hope she gets to spend some time here before she goes home. Some time wise as her Grandmother self. Enjoying her life. Having a tea party on the ceiling. Her favorite part of Mary Poppins. Her wacky, wise, wonderful self. And me? I'm laughing that I get to laugh with her. Laugh til we have tears rolling down our cheeks. Like the old days. Crying sometimes too. Finally, honored to learn from you. Live under the same roof as you again, at least a few nights a week. In this time we have today. Living that divine balance of wisdom & innocence. Here we go. Through the looking glass. Happy to linger her as long as we can. xoxo And Living StrengthThis past summer after my sister & I found our mom has cancer, we talked about the future. “You know, Ab when it’s time I’m probably not the best one to take care of Mom." I said something like that to my sis. "I’m just not good with all the medical stuff.” At the time, we thought my sister would be the care-taker. Or my brother. Since I'm the oldest and the default dysfunctional care-taker of our childhood, wouldn't it be healing if it weren't me? That's what I was thinking at the time. Except my sister has three kids. It’s just not logistically possible for her to be here. Even if she is better suited as her doula, midwife-minded self. And my bro, he was here with his sweet wife. They were rocking it for a good 3 months at my mom’s house. Visa logistics unexpectedly brought them back to Korea. My siblings are here in spirit and will be back with my mom when they can be.
And 7 months after her diagnosis, here I am in NY. Just where I am meant to be. It is healing being one of my mom's caretakers. Just where I am meant to be. Alongside my step-father and 20 year old brother. Sometimes a present, nurturing care-taker I am. Holding my mom’s hand. Helping her down the stairs. Cooking her meals. Watching her walk as my son says, “like a fish out of water.” It’s painful. And an honor. Hardest thing I've ever done. And beautiful too. Some days, like yesterday, I am a distracted, avoidant, crying, overwhelmed, or frustrated care-giver. Juggling my son's needs, my mom's needs, and temporarily relocating my business here, well some days I am graceful at it all. Some days it's a disaster with everyone ending up with unmet needs. Then I breathe deep and send some love to us all. Try again tomorrow. More presence & patience & deep breathes beginning before I even walk through the door. It goes like that. My mom’s biggest thing is she doesn't want to hold up her children’s lives. Doesn't want to burden us. Thanks, mom for thinking of us. You always have put us first. But service to my dying mother is no burden. I told my mom a long time ago that I would never want to put her in a nursing home. I just didn't think so soon it would be like this. Neither did she. A friend who lost her husband to cancer a few years ago texted me, “It is an honor to share this journey with your mom.” Yes, it is. And sad as can be. I know in my heart this is where I am supposed to be. Here in Utica, N.Y. Because I’m getting back me, too as well as caring for my mama. Oregon is home. My life is there. My future, I imagine. But central NY is also home. My past is here. My roots are deep. Families are so strong here. I need that right now. Throughout the day, I go back and forth. One moment secure in being here where I grew up. Helping my mom on this journey. The next moment not quite sure how it's all going to work out and the details overwhelm me, and the anxiety that one day my mom won't be with us, and so much mourning over certain aspects of my childhood. For.... There’s my mom having cancer. There's relocating back home for a bit, both personally & professionally. Then there’s my unresolved childhood stuff. Each weighs heavy in its own way. I do my best to focus where I can make positive change. Have faith in the peace & closure that is part hard work, part grace. Last week I was swimming in the grief of my unresolved childhood. The early life stuff that shaped me, but on a good day doesn't rule me. If I only had the eraser. If I could re-write my childhood, my mom & dad’s reality, and the generations before, that would be cool. My life would be easier, for sure. I couldn't shake the sense of abandonment that my mom was now "off the hook" from providing more understanding about my childhood. Yes, I do feel big twinges of guilt for writing that. But it's part of my work and the healing. Coming to terms. This is the time for closure & healing, so I can truly forgive. Give my mom that gift. “I guess I won’t get any of the answers about childhood from my mom. It’s not possible now. Gotta give that up. Just be a grown-up,” I said last week through tears to my mom’s dear friend. She looked at me with her usual passion for life and said to my soul, “You’ve always been the grown-up. Your mom has said that since you were little.” Oh, yeah. Thanks for the reminder. That was my role. It's not just all in my head. Part of this mourning is for my mom dying, part of it is for my lost childhood. “You had many wonderful experiences. Time in nature. Friends. But you bore the burden….” And then that was it. Poof. My mom’s friend was called into the other room. I went back to the dishes. Crying for that little girl that is locked inside of me carrying burdens, I scrubbed. Just needed to feel that. To honor my experiences, my life, my journey, my work. The past is the past. It’s done. Leave it behind. Step into now. My truth. Me. My friend's wise mother said something just like that. Wish I could remember exactly what she said, but her words are with me. It’s done. I did it. I made it to the other side. I am strong for what I experienced. So live the strength. I might have to fight a little for it, but I am already there. Where I want to be. Now live it. I’m here to care for my mom. And I’m here to care for me. And for my son. Ultimately, to nurture all the families I am honored to work with in my practice. As I care for my mom and establish my practice here, I am soaking up that part of me I left here almost 20 years ago. The girl with the big dreams. The vision for humanity. The girl who worked so hard for her causes. For children to have a good future. No one said it was going to be easy. But it is a blessing. I nurture my mom in ways I still need nurturing. I care for her. I care for myself and that little girl inside of me. And I have lots of love & support along the way, on both coasts. I am grateful. For the past is the past. Today is today. And we build our own tomorrow. xoxo AcceptanceA shift happens when someone stops chemo and begins Hospice. Another surrender. To cancer. To life. Acceptance at its strongest. For all of us.
I spoke with a nurse from the Cancer Center on the phone this week. She was kind & wise, caring & sincere. Called me "honey." She thinks my mom taught her grandson. The hospital social worker was my sister's elementary school friend, and my mom's 3rd grade student. Sacred Heart family. Comforting to my mom and a humble honoring to her 25 years of service to Catholic education. My mom was considering palliative radiation for her pain. She thought the doctor said 3 to 5 treatments. He actually meant 3 to 5 weeks of 15 treatments. This was a big disappointment to my mom. In the back of her mind she thought the radiation would help with her cancer. The kind & wise nurse said to me: “The radiation will not help your mom’s prognosis. It will not change the big picture. It may or may not help with the pain. And there will be a lot of side effects.” Period. Finally, someone speaking the truth so my mom can make this next decision. The nurse put me on hold to go talk to the doctor. He said Hospice was an “appropriate” decision. Her cancer is advanced in the bones & body. My mom has been at peace and accepting since the beginning. Even now. Peace & love sprinkled amidst the pain & suffering. Pain & suffering amidst the peace & love. Depends on the day. Her life hasn’t ever been easy. Sometimes I want more from her. Ultimately, I am proud of her. Her spirit is strong. She will be fine. She’s going home. Sooner rather than later. She’ll have peace. And until then, we all do our best. I hope & pray Hospice can do what they do: keep her comfortable and out of pain. That we can enjoy the time we have with her. The time together as a family. Acceptance. Of it all. No one said it was easy. None of it. All I can do is pray I am strong for her. And for me. Because I can’t change any of it. Just do what is best. A surrender for me as well. Her spirit is strong. We find the peace where we can. Moment to moment. |
Mama Megan
Hi friends, I write from the heart to tell my life story, and the story of those in my neighborhood called life. Research shows that our children's emotional & mental health is contingent upon us parents being able to tell our life story, or "coherent narrative." This is my coherent narrative, my life story in the making, with some of what I love in life too. My goal is to share my life in a way that is real, uplifting & positive- sometimes serious, sometimes fun. In my practice, I inspire parents to empowerment through reclaiming our life stories and learning respectful discipline. My work is my offering to our children- our future. Wishing you all a happy family! Archives
May 2021
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