November Is The Cruelest Month
I have been going through old papers and photographs since my mother passed away. It has reminded me of some of the reasons that I really hate November. This year has added to it obviously.
Thirty-four years ago, my father passed away in early November. He was a very abusive parent when I was growing up. He would wake me in the middle of the night to either beat me or yell at me. At one point he took my bedroom door off so I could not get away from the abuse. I remember hiding in my closet to escape and hide from him.
But in his later years we had mended the relationship somewhat, and actually would do things like watch the World Series together. His heart was giving out, so I made peace with him. I am glad I did for both our sakes.
This November has been the worst with the passing of my mom. She was my rock that I could count on through thick and thin. I always knew she had my back.
Now she is gone, along with a special piece of my heart. She did the best she could for us children growing up in an abusive environment. I am glad that in her later years that I had the blessing of being able to care for her. She was one in a million, and I dedicate this song to her memory. As a friend once told me, they are never gone if they are still remembered. I will never forget the sweetest woman that ever lived.
I hear you adding good thoughts of Dad as time went on. Hopefully, November will allow some good memories along with the sad ones.
Your subject title reminded me of what I read for the first time, some 50-plus years ago:
No sun -- no moon -- no morn -- no noon, no dawn -- no dusk -- no proper time of day, no warmth -- no cheerfulness -- no healthful ease, no road, no street, no t'other side the way, no comfortable feel in any member -- no shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, no fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds, November! -- Hood [Epigraph to PART TWO, NOVEMBER, The Egg and I, by Betty MacDonald]
I am glad it is December now and can leave the pain of November behind. I am glad you are my friend and had the chance to meet her in real life. I am looking forward to seeing you this weekend.
CoCo, the poem you quote succinctly describes November in Indiana. Thank you for sharing it.
I had a year where every time (its seemed) the phone rang it was another friend or relative had passed away.
My condolences to you and yours. Some bereaving takes a time.
JRK, now you know how preoccupied I have been for the last month and more. Just know this, I most certainly understand your broken heart. Mom died in Jan 04 and now dad today. I am a 60 year old orphan. However natural, it is almost unendurable. We WILL endure though, both of us. Dwell on the good, I will too. My promise. Well wishes JRK.
JRK- Very beautiful thoughts in your opening post. Well put. Although the pain of losing our folks continues like a nagging wound in our heart, the happy memory of your mom and the making of peace with your dad before he died , at least you were able to make some peace with him before he died. I did the same with my dad - thus it lessens the regrets we may have had if we had not done that. Take care friend, we are thinking of you and with you in spirit. Sincerely, Flipper
I grieve along with you and flipper. I am a 61-year-old orphan too. I am doing my best to endure, but right now it is just concentrating on the next right thing to do. Baby steps.
I am glad that you had the opportunity to talk with my mother over the phone. She really should be beatified as a JW saint.
I have had times in my life that death seemed to be lurking at the door. A bunch of my friends died in automobile accidents in my teen years in a short span of time.
Sadly since waking up, life often just seems like a countdown to death.
The big downside of leaving the cult.