I felt nothing...

Yesterday was Father's Day, the dreaded day for widows of all ages around the country. I never paid much notice to it until you actually don't have one.. (in my case it's my kids that don't which directly affects me)-It was something I took for granted, gave my class act Dad a card and went about my everyday affairs. However, sometimes you don't know what you have until it's gone and it's constantly reminded to you in commercials, stores, facebook, church services, school activities etc. Just making a point here.



So I go to what the good Mommy should do and take my kids to the cemetery to see their Dad. They released balloons and we placed our butterflies for our memorials. I felt for them, especially my oldest who said a special prayer to his Dad before releasing his butterfly. But I went through the motions... basically I felt nothing. No anger, no rage, no sadness directly for me, no nothing really. There was a time that the raw emotion would just bring me to my knees with complicated grief. Today...I felt nothing....In some cases that really isn't a bad feeling... It's fading and I am ok....

I think in everything in life their is a difference between thinking you know and actually knowing. A difference between a superficial change and then a change on cellular level. What if you actually had to rearrange your "DNA" (Destiny, Nature and Aspirations) in order to find your own authenticity. To get a new life you had to purge a great deal away from the old way.

I wrote a blog on simplicity a while back and decided to dive a little further into the topic.. To find ones true authentic self.. Think about it, on paper simplicity/harmony/gratitutde/joy/order all sound good. But what would happen if we really transformed outselves using those qualities. To not just a superficial transformation of getting rid of "stuff" but an inward type of spiritual change. To become ones own authentic self.. This is what Einstein would have called the "refinement of everyday thinking"..When you passionately and persistently search for wholeness within ones self, not with things.. you'll know...And you will never look back...

THE BUTTERFLY MEMORIAL

As a solo parent, anytime Mother's Day or Father's Day rolls around, one is forced to be creative, use their own child-rearing, child psychology skills. In widdaworld we preface "solo" not "single"- This is different than being divorced... remember their isn't a Mom or Dad anywhere around for a young child. I continue to bite my tongue year after year as the public tax paying schools still insist on doing a Mothers/ Fathers day crafts...which just reminds children from non traditional, dysfunctional or solo families that their world is different from the norm.. That is for another time and another blog

So this year after suffering through a Father's Day project (which was done three weeks before the day), I decided to do something creative with my children for Father's Day. I stole an idea from a sixth grade class I was substituting about a Butterfly Memorial. The story and the poem resonated a powerful message with me, that I knew my deep thinking seven year old would get... The other two kids would enjoy coloring various butterflies for the next few weeks.



Such a yellow

Is carried lightly way up high

It went away I'm sure because it wished to

kiss the world

goodbye.



This poem was written by a child survivor of the holocaust.. He was looking at a butterfly he saw while he was in a concentration camp in Germany. He died shortly later and was telling the world how many of those in camps prayed daily to die. All they could see was dark, gray, black muted colors. They were exhausted, forced to stay up all night, not thinking clearly, starved, on the verge of psychosis-they just wanted it to end as soon as possible. I believe this is how those suffering from severe debilitating depression see the world. They don't see color, they don't see hope, everything is an effort, sleep is gone... the National Mental Health Organization have compared survivors of suicide to those who survived a concentration camp (this is common knowledge in our SOS circles)--the after effects and waves contiue to hit years later..



I explained to my children that these butterflies they colored with brightly vivid colors were for their father. That he couldn't see the world in bright vivid colors like we could and it would be a special gift they could give to him. I went on to explain his illness and what he can do to the mind and how imperative (we have a secret pact within the four of us) to reach out for help (again its between the four of us so this will never ever be repeated,, my greatest fear for my children as they grow older)Amazingly my young kids got it...they took such pride in coloring their butterflies and we are planning on putting them on their Dad's gravesite. (we always do cool painted rocks, or crafts- I mean fake flowers just are not our thing, nor were they his-)--So this year, our Fathers Day will be a butterfly memorial...if I can just keep my middle son from bringing his moth collection with him as well... Updates on our Butterfly Memorial will continue..but I thought it was a cool idea for grieving kids, they can color intereact and it can be used it many different "grief" type of situations... -