17:48 - 02/11/2014
Ouch
Snow blindness. I never really appreciated what that meant until this year's abundance of the white stuff. In the past, I would navigate and estimate the depth and condition of the ground cover by the shadows on the snow. I did that unconsciously and automatically, since I was born and raised here. Winter baby, that's me. Now when I stepped outside - especially when the sun was low in the sky, which is the norm - the reflection of it's light back to my damaged eyes basically blinded me. I wasn't even thinking about that until a kindly male of an obviously winter nature was loudly trying to explain to a group of somewhat bemused new Canadians at my Dad's train station why he and I were wearing tinted sun glasses in the dead of winter. The glasses only help a me little now. I need to wear snow goggles like the outdoor winter Olympic competitors.
When I was corresponding with my sister's sister-in-law I realized that around Christmas and the New Year that I was experiencing my second Saturn Return. A new cycle, but one where one must consciously shed the past to move forward. Maybe that's why my dreams were so intense then. The last Saturn Return was in November of 1984. I remember it well. Politics were not of any interest to me then, but I got really involved for the sake of my children. Even to public speaking, although I would have rather chewed glass. I wonder what this cycle might bring.
A+'s Mom died the day I last wrote to you, dear diary. At least his sister and nephew arrived in time to say goodbye. The family is spread out around the world so it was mid-January before the memorial service could be held. That was the one good thing to come out of all the sadness and difficulty. He has a very nice family in person. A+'s best friend since childhood has made a point of being available and close by since, too. For both A+'s friend and me it re-triggered unprocessed memories and feelings of our Mom's deaths. His friend said it felt as though there was a hard kernel of emotions in his brain trying to force it's way into his consciousness. As an artist, if he can channel that emotion into his work, he might be ok.
My Mom's journey to death began as she left for her holiday in Mexico at the New Year and ended in early February. The last time I got to speak with her was on my birthday in January. I never got to say goodbye or anything else. I was told that her health was stable and she would be fine. She was scheduled to see a cardiologist at the end of February. This year, my Dad returned extremely ill from his holiday in Mexico just a few days before Christmas. He is ok now, but I was really wondering if history was about to repeat itself. Most of my significant family members have died around this time of year. So it was that I found myself coping with some very strong, long-buried memories that I would rather not deal with. Unlike A+'s friend, I am not an artist so I took solace in time spent with my sons and grandchildren.
I need to go do something useful now, dear diary - dwelling too much in the past is really unhealthy and painful. Talk to you later.
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