Ashes to Ashes

I haven't posted about our trip to Tillicum Village on Blake Island, where David works. We took my parents there for a salmon dinner and show, to celebrate their 57th wedding anniversary. It was a great excursion. Here are a few photos from that evening.

The end of summer signals the beginning of new things, the start of the public school year being one of them. Unfortunately, we are having a big "brouhaha" with our local school administration over the reduction of class time in favor of giving that time away to the teachers for planning, collaboration and - oh, yes! - one period of remedial work for the students who are struggling. So I have been seething, meeting, discussing, writing and rewriting letters about this (and the way the information was withheld, and then suddenly and stealthily dealt to us). If David wasn't a senior this year, we would probably pull him from this district and move him to another...and we are 4th-generation residents here.

David is in tennis workouts with his team, so he is only working for Argosy one day per week. We are getting things organized for him to begin his senior year. We attended the sports-teams' kickoff ("Meet the Vikings") this week. Katie's classmates were there, because they are freshmen this year. I know some of them from as far back as kindergarten, and it is very hard for me that she is not with them, starting high school.

Gregg is taking today off from work to make a 4-day weekend. We will attend a family reunion (the Kvinsland family, Gregg's mother's side) one day, and a memorial mass for Signe Katherine, another.

I have been writing and doing research for Katie's Comforters Guild, which is officially open, with all four board members in place; I will write more about that soon. I'm also making some quilts. That's one reason I have been so quiet here.

I decided, after last Thursday's scattering of Katie's ashes, that I need a permanent container for some of them, to keep for myself (Gregg doesn't share this need). On Thursday night, my parents asked me to keep some of Katie's ashes, so that some of hers can be scattered with theirs, when the time comes. So yesterday, I went to the funeral home, & David went with me. We chose a small metal heart, similar to the one that Andrea and Mike chose for Signe's ashes.  I also found a beautiful box (online) for the ashes that I will save for my parents.

This is the oddest thing, to me:  I had thought that scattering her ashes would remind me that Katie is now free, and that I can sense her everywhere; instead, I feel more loss, more anguish and a deep depression has settled over me. I have been struggling with it for the past week; that's another reason I have been quiet here. I feel that this scattering, rather than "freeing" her and me, has made me want to cling more tightly to what little I have left of her. It's made me feel very small, very clenched - and not free at all. I feel as if I've gone backward in the process of grieving, though I've been at it for over two years now. I feel lost, without a compass, and like a failure. It's awful.

The only hope I can see is to turn more earnestly to God, because I cannot bear this alone.
Dear Kathleen gave me the following quote:

"Our Grief"

"The weight of grief and the depth of mourning are in direct proportion to the importance and value in our lives of what is lost. We have two options in how we deal with grief and mourning.
"We can bear the weight on our shoulders alone. If we choose this path, we again have two choices: We can let the weight of grief crush us or, we can shed the weight. If we choose to shed the weight, we must also shed the importance and value of what is lost. We can't have it both ways. As the grief fades, so will the memory of what is lost dimnish, until the weight is bearable.
"The second choice is to call on our Lord to bear the weight with us, to share our grief, to mourn with us. When we do, a peculiar thing happens. The weight of grief does not lessen but it is bearable. If we continue to call on Him, to ask Him to mourn with us, we find that instead of the weight becoming less, He makes us stronger. The grief is no less and neither is the importance of what we have lost. This is where mourning becomes worship!"

I don't know who wrote it,  but it gives me hope. I realize that, in the excitement of the creation of the Guild, and the progress in the book project, I have let my ego pull me ahead...I have let the joy & adrenaline of meaningful work obscure my awareness of how much I depend upon God just to survive each day of this new life. It's not working on ego alone...I'm out of fuel. I need to crawl back into God's lap and rest in Him. I'm so thankful that Kathleen shared this quote, and to Kay, for posting this.