We made it
through August
I guess I just don’t know anyone who truly enjoys it. August is a cruel month — it’s not only usually the warmest, it’s one of the longest. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said one-hundred times — Europeans have the right idea. Take the month of August off. Build it in to your year, so you can actually do it. Be sane and take a vacation when it’s a billion degrees. Sit down and rest and have a cool drink. Take naps. It will be over soon and then we can all go back to work and miss being on vacation. Maybe we’ll get there in the US one day. But I can at least try to incorporate these ideas into my own life. Maybe. Sometimes. I digress.
I’m so glad to see September arrive. I was going to post Wednesday, the day before was my Mama’s 79th birthday, but I ended up not feeling like it and not sharing exactly where I was, which was in a place of sorrow, and specific sorrow that I could not see her and just talk to her. And I thought about how I never really talked to her. I get so jealous when I think about my friends getting to talk to their parents. I feel like I never did. Not at all. Maybe my mother a little, but not my father. The times I got up the nerve, the conversations where short, to the point, not really even conversations but information gathering sessions with mostly yes and no answers. He is kinder in his spirit incarnation than he was allowed to be in his earthly one.
I guess I sort of had to grit my teeth through it — it’s starts in early August with my great-grandmother’s death, then Mama and Daddy, then Justin, then Mammy — my husband was at the bottom of the Grand Canyon for two weeks during the month as well (when all those deaths fell), which was hard for me. But I am so grateful that he had an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experience and I know he will always cherish it. It’s possible to be sad about something and happy about it at the same time. I think it’s part of developing maturity when you’re able to do that? I hope it’s a good sign, regardless.
Let’s just say I’m glad to feel the shift and look forward to what fall is bringing — parties, trips, writing, painting, connecting. I’ve been painting an awful lot and will be getting some of them up for sale by Sept 10th. Some different designs, sizes, and price points will be included.
And hey — y’all send me some questions. I’m fresh out! allisonmoorercontact@gmail.com
Peace. Love. Have a great weekend.
Allison
Sending love and peace to you. It has taken me a long time to accept the idea, the feeling of what it means to "sit" in sorrow -- to feel it, to not run from it or try to anesthetize it, and to know that it will neither destroy me nor overrun me. I'm certain that we do not learn this, especially in our culture, and it has taken me until now, at 60 yrs old, to grok it. When I read your post, I was reminded of Francis Weller's work in Wild Edge of Sorrow, and how he writes "“Grief and love are sisters, woven together from the beginning. Their kinship reminds us that there is no love that does not contain loss and no loss that is not a reminder of the love we carry for what we once held close.”
Hi Allison
I felt you the other day when I saw the sweet picture of your momma when she was a young girl. Saw both you & Shelby in her face. It’s hard I know. I wish I could talk to my mom again. I do still, but it’s not the same. When I thought of you I tried to imagine how losing your mom at 14 must feel. I remember her vividly from your book Blood. She seemed like so much fun & full of life. I’ve said before the passages about driving the car made me laugh. And especially how wonderful she was seeing that you had the outfit you wanted for whatever occasion it might have been, despite struggling with the money to make it so. I obviously don’t know your momma but I imagine you & Shelby get her sense of humor and same laugh. My father was similar to your dad. Quiet and soft spoken. He was the disciplinarian. But now what I realize was cruel. First time I got caught with pot in high school, he took me off the softball team of which I was captain and put a for sale sign in my car. Never said a word. The silent treatment was often. I think the most cruel thing a person can do to anyone. I’ve become accustomed to that in my adult life. Sadly. It rots you from the inside out.
Anyway, yes we move into September with beautiful sweaters, amazing fall leaves and the soon to be new year with Hope again.
I love the picture of your momma with the cat and the painting you made for her. I’m looking forward to the new Art work. I’m very fond of the bunny. I hope I can buy one.
Best wishes for a successful & happy school year for JH.
Much love
Gay 🌷