• Current Reading List

    Peaceful Action, Open Heart - Thich Nhat Hanh*** Eat, Pray, Love*** Peaceful Living - Mary Mackenzie(daily reader)*** The Vein of Gold - Julia Cameron (this is a read a chapter a week type book)*** Dubliners - James Joyce*** Nursing: The Philosophy and Science of Caring - Jean Watson*** The Diary of Virginia Woolf. Volume I***
  • Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and I, I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference.
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She is in my thoughts almost constantly these days. These thoughts if not at the forefront, then just at the fringe – ready to pop out at any moment. I can’t quite seem to shake them. I wonder if she would like to know that I think of her so often. She is in my dreams nightly and is often the first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing at night. She came to mind not as frequently before her death… but often enough. However, those thoughts were bitter, acrid. These are sad. How I longed to release that bitterness, that anger that I felt for her for the past many years. I didn’t know how to let go – to forgive. Believe me I tried. And tried. It feels so very sad that the release I sought only happened one month before her death. Nothing to do about that now. And my dreams tell me that even if I had been able to do anything different – things wouldn’t…couldn’t have been different. So I am left to struggle with these memories and regrets. Grief. Not my fondest experience. The hardest part is that from all outward appearances, my life has resumed its normal cadence. School, work, play. But there is a discord that only I can hear. The unbidden thought. The tears that seem to spring from nowhere at the drop of a hat. And of course, the dreams. Often these dreams are chaotic….how her life was. Sometimes they are of childhood. Mostly sad. Damned grief. I know the only way out is through, but many times I feel like the Ostrich has the right idea. Unfortunately this damned recovery won’t let me revert to Ostrich-mode. At least not for long.

Now the other sister frequently comes to mind too. This death is of another kind: the death of a relationship. In many ways I feel some grief about that too. In other ways it is a relief not to keep trying and working so hard on something that wasn’t working and that was almost always one-sided. Grief all the same.

I have been thinking about these sister relationships and how they shaped my views and attitudes toward women…and how very much work it has been to change those views and attitudes. Of course my mother-relationship helped shape that perception as well. I don’t think my mother liked women very much. Why have these formative female relationships been so hard? It is a wonder I don’t hate women myself. But I don’t. I think women and all things female are wonderful, divine…but our society divides us and steers us away from ourselves. I digress, something I am oh, so fond of doing. Sisters….Ah yes. Difficult, ridiculously difficult sister relationships. Part of my early  healing of my female wound was to find a “sister-of-choice”. This, I thought, was the way to go. I would finally have a sister to love me the way I wanted a sister to love me…who would be there for me and support me and yadayadayada. Turns out I chose a sister relationship that was not that much different than my sisters-not-by-choice.I still love that woman very much…but the relationship was so hard, and we too do not have a relationship today.

I guess I will lead my life without sisters. I feel a lot of sadness about that. But I also feel a tremendous amount of joy for the women in my life. For learning to love women – myself and the other glorious women in my life that support me and love me and genuine…real. Not sisters.


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