I have been absent for a couple of months. I had grand hopes of blogging more about our trip to Europe, about life, and about my teaching experience.
Then, on November 25, my life changed: my mother died. I was on my way to see her. I was not ready. I still can not believe it.
Before this happened I thought I understood grief. Grief had found me when at the tender age of 13 when my beloved grandfather died and then at 15 a school friend died without warning. Again, at 16 my dear friend of grief visited when another friend, with a terminal illness, went home to dance with her maker. In 2009 my grandmother, who I resemble and relate to in the physical and cognitive, joined the love of her life after 91 and 364 day of life on earth. The grief of losing those beloved still makes me catch my breath, but I have never experienced grief like this before.
The irony is that the Wednesday before my mom passed, I was home sick from teaching. I had lost my voice. I was more sick than I have been in awhile. I went for a walk up to the hill near our home. The sun was bursting through the clouds from the down pour earlier and I could see a dearly loved city. While my body was stressed, my heart and soul were at peace. Joy seeped into my marrow and I thought, "life is good". Five days later, my husband would tell me my mom had passed away while I sat talking about her to her sister, my aunt. My life would never be the same again.
Now, three and half months later, my life has become a day by day, moment by moment existence. While I exists in that existence, I want to share my journey. So if you will allow, my thoughts will be posted here, because this is the "way" that this Chevalier-Hall finds herself on. (This blog was created to document the road we San Francisco Halls are traveling, so it is appropriate that as I, Robyn, find myself on the path of grief, that grief in fact the "Hall-way" for me right now.) Join along if you care (or need) to dive into the world of grief.
