On Grief, and the Pursuit of Dreams
“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.”
― William Shakespeare, Macbeth
My mother and myself, at my high school graduation, 2013
And just like that, another year has past and a new one’s begun.
It has been a while, as it often is…
I won’t waste time on false promises to change and post more often, not this time. It is my intent to do so, but - as life has taught me the past year - circumstances change, and we must go with the flow, or risk drowning. I do hope to make the time, to cultivate the space here I’ve always dreamed of, but…time will tell.
I suppose, to begin, I should give you an update of sorts. I did say that when things settled a bit, I would explain what’s been going on, so here it goes:
My mother received a terminal diagnosis in November 2022, and from that moment on I was thrown into being her caregiver. I did my best to stand up to the task, and managed to do so while still keeping up with being part of a stage combat team and performing at New Jersey Renaissance faire, but afterwards I needed to focus solely on Mom. As her health declined further and more rapidly, we transitioned to hospice care, and I more or less became her full-time caregiver. It was challenging in more ways than one, for both of us- an experience and duty certainly not for the faint of heart. I did my best, even when I thought I was at my limits. There were many tears shed- in sorrow and joy at fond memories and moments together, both of us acutely aware of time slipping away, with nothing to be done. Even so, neither of us expected her time to run out so quickly, I don’t think.
Our journey together ended on November 27th, 2023, twenty-nine years after it began.
I stood by her side and held her hand as, in the wee hours of my 29th birthday, under a full and beautiful moon, my mother breathed her last.
It was quiet, calm, peaceful. She had been sleeping for a few days prior, and the hospice nurse had gently laid a hand on my shoulder the day before, told me it wouldn’t be long, that she seemed to be waiting for something. I knew in my heart it was my birthday.
Where most see a tragic and unfortunate coincidence, I see poetry, meaning. It is a comfort, honestly. Her power of will, to hold on until that day… The juxtaposition of life and death, so perfectly represented in that timing- painful and beautiful, a scar I will treasure for the rest of my days.
It has without a doubt been the hardest, darkest year of my life- filled with loss and personal challenges. I will continue to grieve these losses for the rest of my life- but I am walking into 2024 with a hopeful heart, and a determination to work on my dreams harder than ever before. Not being able to create for so long has left my soul thirsty for it, and despite everything, I’m excited to begin crafting and sharing my wares with you once again.
Mom was always one of my biggest cheerleaders, always telling me I could do whatever I set my mind to, and I plan to do just that. This year, the Medieval Mouse is back in earnest.
One step at a time, I will make her proud, and watch my dreams come true.
Taken 11/27/2023
I thank you for reading, for being here with me, for believing in me and offering your support.
May the new year be kinder to us all.
