Stormy Weather
We've had several days of monsoon storms in a row, and some of them have been doozies. Tuesday night there was a big lighting storm, and all of Wednesday, my credit union's website had a doleful, apologetic note up saying that they were sorry for the inconvenience, but the storm had taken out their server, their backup server, their backup backup server, their on-site generator, and probably concussed the ninety-year-old guy in the vault who has all fifty thousand account passwords memorized, Just In Case.
July was a sort of sucky double anniversary month: a year since Mom broke her hip, and a little over six months since she died. I was talking about it with my Texas cousin the other day - her mother, Mom's older sister, passed away last year in July, a week or so after Mom broke her hip, so she was going through the same thing.
I've been having a lot of dreams about Mom in the last few weeks, and about my sister (who died of colon cancer in 2015) as well. In the dreams, they're as they were when I last spoke to them - my sister dying, Mom very frail. In the most recent one I remember, I dreamed that my sister had moved in with Mom so that Mom could take care of her in her final days. Which would have been absurd in real life; Mom drove my sister crazy, and Mom was long past being able to care for someone else by that time. But in the dream it made sense, and while it was sad, it was also... weirdly peaceful, in that I had a chance to talk to both of them, say goodbye in a way I didn't get to in reality.
I suppose that's something. I still miss Mom terribly, and probably I always will. I mean, I still miss my sister, and it's been three years. Mom was a much bigger part of my daily life. While the grief is still there, it's... settling, I guess. It's funny; I was reading a Pride & Predjudice soulmate AU the other day (it was recommended as a soulmate AU for people who don't like soulmates, and it did not disappoint) where the author writes an exceptionally sympathetic examination of the heroine's grief after her first husband's death, and the progression of her year of mourning. I found myself thinking that it's a bit of a pity that mourning has gone out of fashion. I wouldn't want to be restricted to black (or even violet) for a year, but recognizing that people may need that long to adjust when a huge chunk of their lives is torn away, and that this period of adjustment is normal and necessary, is something that's fallen by the wayside.
In brighter news, framefolly is coming to visit next week! Woohoo!
Rants Talk to me
July was a sort of sucky double anniversary month: a year since Mom broke her hip, and a little over six months since she died. I was talking about it with my Texas cousin the other day - her mother, Mom's older sister, passed away last year in July, a week or so after Mom broke her hip, so she was going through the same thing.
I've been having a lot of dreams about Mom in the last few weeks, and about my sister (who died of colon cancer in 2015) as well. In the dreams, they're as they were when I last spoke to them - my sister dying, Mom very frail. In the most recent one I remember, I dreamed that my sister had moved in with Mom so that Mom could take care of her in her final days. Which would have been absurd in real life; Mom drove my sister crazy, and Mom was long past being able to care for someone else by that time. But in the dream it made sense, and while it was sad, it was also... weirdly peaceful, in that I had a chance to talk to both of them, say goodbye in a way I didn't get to in reality.
I suppose that's something. I still miss Mom terribly, and probably I always will. I mean, I still miss my sister, and it's been three years. Mom was a much bigger part of my daily life. While the grief is still there, it's... settling, I guess. It's funny; I was reading a Pride & Predjudice soulmate AU the other day (it was recommended as a soulmate AU for people who don't like soulmates, and it did not disappoint) where the author writes an exceptionally sympathetic examination of the heroine's grief after her first husband's death, and the progression of her year of mourning. I found myself thinking that it's a bit of a pity that mourning has gone out of fashion. I wouldn't want to be restricted to black (or even violet) for a year, but recognizing that people may need that long to adjust when a huge chunk of their lives is torn away, and that this period of adjustment is normal and necessary, is something that's fallen by the wayside.
In brighter news, framefolly is coming to visit next week! Woohoo!
Rants Talk to me