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A New Normal




I have returned to Greater Vancouver but a few thoughts about the farm.  There was a very sleepless night for me the evening before I left with thoughts of Dad, concerns for Mom and just a general unsettled feeling about leaving.  One of my brothers took me to the airport and we talked about thinking we are OK and then something, an item or a person, can cause grief to hit again.  We know it is far too soon to think we are done grieving, but there must be something in our natures to make us want it to move along more quickly.  It is nice to know I am not alone in this.  I see evidence from my brothers, sons and Mom that we are all at about the same point.

Speaking of her, Mom had asked me to stay through New Year and I stayed beyond it a few days.  Those few days were pretty productive for both of us.  I could tell she was ready to be alone by the time I left.  She was knitting (always a sign of general stable mental and physical health) and wanting to get to the library to pick up some books (another good sign).  Mom and I could sit together for hours and really say very little to one another.  Just being together was enough for both of us. 

And as much as I seemed to resent it when I was younger, I can now proudly say I am very much like Mom.  We both have a strong constitution, an ability to care for ourselves as well as others and a strong need to be in charge and independent.  I now see how good these qualities are to have as one ages.  Mom will be fine on her own, I know.  She will adjust.

Since I declared 2016 the year of the sock for me, Mom decided to look into her yarn stash to see if she had any sock yarn to give me.  We joked about the fact that I have quite a stash of my own to work through, but nonetheless she gave me the following yarn with the proviso I not make any socks for her because she wouldn´t wear them.  Some of the partially used skeins will be used to knit children's socks.  They are all superwash meaning they don't have to be hand washed and air dried, a good thing when giving items to those not accustomed to hand washing.



Back with Paul and Mike, the cat, I can feel the rhythm of my life returning.  And although it might be beating with one less note, the sound of that rhythm is mighty fine to my ear.

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