The Sound of Silence

This morning I saw a cover of a song I have always known and never truly heard.  Until today.  It stopped me, sat me down and made me understand.  It told me about my mom's struggle, from a place of insight that my mom has no access to.  My heart broke for her.  From over here, instead of from inside of her darkness.

I heard it like she was singing, from a place where she is not ill.  She has never struck up an orchestra and let me into her pain, as a visitor like that.  She can't, as far as I can tell.  She has struck me with her pain in disordered attempts at sharing it, but there were no strings, no rich baritone, only emotional trauma.  She has punished me for her pain, and with it, but never taken my hand and shown me inside.  She has given it my name, among the others responsible.  I have never been able to see it entirely separate from me.  I live in it.  I find happiness despite it.  But it's always there.  It carries a weight with it that I can't describe.  I don't mean to sound like she didn't give me credit for her happiness too, she did.  The weight was just as much.

I have had some days, and even some weeks over the last year where I am able to walk away from her pain.  Most of the time, I can feel her pain, vibrating from my absence, so the distance was often only physical.  I could hear her words.  How could you do this to me.  You said you would take care of me.  You are breaking my heart.  After all we have done for you..  And then, every now and then, that tether would just release and I would be free.  Happy feelings without guilt for feeling them.  Lightness.  Peace.  These days, I have been free of that tether once again.  I have had this feeling before and then lost it, so I am not getting attached, but the freedom feels like such relief and I am soaking it in like sunshine.  It feels like I just put down something heavy that I had been carrying until my muscles were burning and shaking.  It feels like a warm spring day after a long, bitter winter.  I can breath again.

I have wanted to free her from her darkness my whole life, and even when I knew intellectually that I can't, my heart couldn't give it up.  Over the last year of trying to tell my heart it wasn't responsible for her, it couldn't stop.  It was involuntary.

And now as I hear it again, I realize it is me I am hearing singing.  It is the solitude I learned to understand life within that always divided us.  It is the difference between the darkness being a friend and a foe.  It is understanding the silence.  It is me freeing that tether and accepting that I can't make them understand. And accepting that I can't understand them either.  My desire to see my mother find peace is shifting from a mission to a wish.  Letting go has been hard.

"Fools" said I "You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

- Paul Simon

Today it Feels Easier

I don't know if it's just the decision to stay, I know that has a lot to do with it.  But I think it's also comfort in the coming winter, a later bedtime for Ivy, making the days more do-able and the wake-ups not so painfully early.  It's knowing we get to work on our finances and get stronger.  It's a strong resolve to not eat out so much, save money, be in a position where we have more options.  It's hope that I can get some peace from my parents, that I can find a way to have them stop contacting me until I can build the strength to gate keep a limited relationship between them and us.  I love that moving is still possible down the road.  That we can give ourselves time to get our life into a less complicated place to move from if we do decide to go that route.  That we don't have to sort it all out right now.

And I love that we get to feel rooted somewhere again.  I feel so relieved.

To the end of indecision!

We have been planning on moving away.  Our decision was essentially made, but I was struggling with it so much.  I kept waffling.  I didn't understand why I had such a hard time to commit to either staying or going.  Neither felt good.  

So, we went to Nelson, which is where we planned to move.  The whole time we were there, we both agreed that we could live there.  It was beautiful.  It was laid-back.  It was everything I imagined and more.  So, we're doing it we decided. 

And then we came home.  We pulled up to our house and I felt such comfort.  I had a shower, looked out the window at our fire pit, the trees, the space around us and felt peace.  We drove out to the lake. The leaves are all gone from the trees and the lake view was incredible.  A mist over the lake made it look like an ocean.  It was so quiet and beautiful, I felt quiet and peaceful.  More peaceful than I had felt for our whole holiday.

I was up all night the second night out there.  I couldn't imagine another year of trepidation.  Another year of indecision.  I couldn't imagine selling our home and cottage until we had lived there and felt it was home.  

So we looked into options to move for a trial period, without selling anything here.  It was not do-able financially.  Not even close.  And then the decision was made.  Now is not the time.  There may be a time, but not now.  For now, our home is our home.  Our cottage is still our cottage and we can continue to form roots here.  I am so relieved.  I couldn't make the decision but when it was made for me, it was the right one.  I feel so in love with our life here.  I feel so grateful for the friends we have, for the business, for our home, our yard, our cottage.  I feel grateful for the view from our front window, for the trees and the space.  There is nothing like our neighbourhood in Nelson.  Nothing even close.  

Plus, we don't get bears in our yard.  Bonus.