Thank you, each and every one of you, who took the time to send blessings via comments or emails or through the ethers. The past two weeks have been a long, intense break from everyday life. I’m just beginning to slow down and pick up the pieces of my life again.
This past week was taken up with phone calls to notify far flung friends and family of my dad’s passing, planning and holding two memorials (one on a Coast Guard search-and-rescue boat in the middle of the bay), and a house full of friends and family from out of town. After my son and daughter-in-law caught their flight back to Maine, and Craig’s parents headed back to eastern Washington, the rest of us retreated to our favorite spot on the river out in the county for a Lammas camping weekend. This campout had been planned for months, so the timing was especially fortuitous. We swam in the river, basked in the sun. walked the labyrinth mowed into the waist high grass, drummed around the fire, watched the moonrise, gave each other backrubs and just, in general, recuperated — especially those of us who were on the “front lines” of caring for my dad in his last days then preparing for the memorials. I came home yesterday and slept like the proverbial log, after two weeks of very little sleep.
I was chagrined to discover that I am not having “spiritual” dreams at all — no lovely intimations of the afterlife or visitation-type dreams. Instead my dreams are full of stress, rerunning the last few anxiety-ridden weeks and days of my dad’s life, seeing him in distress over and over again. I suppose that is to be expected. I still have a lot to process.
For now, I have a mountain of thank you notes to write, paperwork to take care of, work for clients to get caught up on, and boxes of Dad’s things to sort. Then I hope to rearrange my schedule so that all the time I used to spend traveling to town and looking after my father can now be used to focus on finishing the Gaian Tarot. Blessed be.