I'm drowning.
Drowning in the futility of it all
Time, my worst enemy
Cold heartlessness personified
It just keeps going on
Never looking back
How?
And how does one feel with such depth for another?
It would clear to you if you only knew
The epitome of love and affection
The joy of a million newborn babies
-But at the other end of the circle
When a circle supposedly has no end....
It's the circle of life
-So they say.
I'm drowning.
Drowning in the futility of it all
Lost in an ocean of nothingness
And yet somehow still managing to be surrounded
By love and affection
Because not all ends are absolute
Most ends may be futile,
But not necessarily absolute.
And that's what I cling to.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Our Peculiar Planet
Our peculiar planet...
The name of my blog has never been quite so applicable or stringent.
I have not written anything in awhile, and as per usual, I have a reason.
This is a reason I wish I didn't have.
My last entry was a tribute I wrote to my grandmother who passed away in the beginning of October. My dad flew down from way up north to go to her funeral, and to deliver what was apparently the most eloquent, ardent, and memorable eulogy that anyone who was there had ever heard.
I wish I could have been there.
A few hours after his mother's funeral, my dad, Raymond Andrew Palmer passed away. Even now, in writing it, it seems so dubious. I still feel within my heart that this cannot be real. My dad just turned 50 in September. He is a little boy at heart. He is active. He is healthy. He is supposed to live forever.
But that's what they told me. Three people came into my house and said: "I know this has been a rough week for you, but I have some more bad news. Your dad passed away."
A full-force punch in the stomach by a world heavyweight champion couldn't have taken my breath away more than that, couldn't have been more painful.
How can those 4 little words exist together in the same sentence and in that order?
I proceeded to call my mom about 10 times and everything else is a blur. I know I threw some things in a suitcase and then Craig and I drove 3 1/2 hours to the airport. I feel as though I've been sleepwalking ever since. It's like I'm living a nightmare and could wake up any second. Which is what I'm hoping for more than anything else in this world.
My dad means the world to me. He is by far one of the best people I have ever met. I may be biased, but I doubt that. EVERYONE loves my dad. EVERYBODY loves Raymond.
And he loves, too. So deeply and wholly. I cannot help but think that maybe this all happened because he had a broken heart. Burying your mom cannot be easy. Especially when you're a person who's love for your family is deeper than the depth of all the oceans in the world combined, times one million. That's who my dad is. Not was, IS.
I know all about the stages of grieving, but the acceptance stage seems like a joke. Daddy is the last person I thought this would happen to. He has so much ahead of him. He's just nearing retirement and is loving life. He's getting to the point in his life that he has worked towards for so long.
Anyone who reads this, I wish you could know my dad. If you know him- you are a better person for it. If this is real, if I really do have to accept this, it's a tragedy for the world. It's not just me and my poor mom and the rest of our family who's losing out - it's you too. It's the entire world.
The name of my blog has never been quite so applicable or stringent.
I have not written anything in awhile, and as per usual, I have a reason.
This is a reason I wish I didn't have.
My last entry was a tribute I wrote to my grandmother who passed away in the beginning of October. My dad flew down from way up north to go to her funeral, and to deliver what was apparently the most eloquent, ardent, and memorable eulogy that anyone who was there had ever heard.
I wish I could have been there.
A few hours after his mother's funeral, my dad, Raymond Andrew Palmer passed away. Even now, in writing it, it seems so dubious. I still feel within my heart that this cannot be real. My dad just turned 50 in September. He is a little boy at heart. He is active. He is healthy. He is supposed to live forever.
But that's what they told me. Three people came into my house and said: "I know this has been a rough week for you, but I have some more bad news. Your dad passed away."
A full-force punch in the stomach by a world heavyweight champion couldn't have taken my breath away more than that, couldn't have been more painful.
How can those 4 little words exist together in the same sentence and in that order?
I proceeded to call my mom about 10 times and everything else is a blur. I know I threw some things in a suitcase and then Craig and I drove 3 1/2 hours to the airport. I feel as though I've been sleepwalking ever since. It's like I'm living a nightmare and could wake up any second. Which is what I'm hoping for more than anything else in this world.
My dad means the world to me. He is by far one of the best people I have ever met. I may be biased, but I doubt that. EVERYONE loves my dad. EVERYBODY loves Raymond.
And he loves, too. So deeply and wholly. I cannot help but think that maybe this all happened because he had a broken heart. Burying your mom cannot be easy. Especially when you're a person who's love for your family is deeper than the depth of all the oceans in the world combined, times one million. That's who my dad is. Not was, IS.
I know all about the stages of grieving, but the acceptance stage seems like a joke. Daddy is the last person I thought this would happen to. He has so much ahead of him. He's just nearing retirement and is loving life. He's getting to the point in his life that he has worked towards for so long.
Anyone who reads this, I wish you could know my dad. If you know him- you are a better person for it. If this is real, if I really do have to accept this, it's a tragedy for the world. It's not just me and my poor mom and the rest of our family who's losing out - it's you too. It's the entire world.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Grandma
A peaceful person. Hers was a genuine and loving soul which was never concealed.
Quiet, calm, and much like myself- doing things on her own time in a secret hope that the world would wait on her.
It was a reciprocal relationship though, because as she wanted the world to be patient with her, she was patient with the world.
For as long as I can remember she had a head full of snow white hair which I always thought of as a reflection of her own pure heart.
Sharp, fun-loving, and always beautiful from the inside out.
The Palmer name has lived on and we can take pride in our heritage because of her.
She was someone that we can all look up to, and aspire to become more like.
She knew exactly what real faith should look like because she lived it every single day.
She was a loving wife (for over 65 years), mother, grand-mother, great grand-mother and friend.
She was and will continue to be an inspiration.
Many times I have looked upon her and Poppy Palmer in awe, hoping that perhaps someday I too could have a love so strong, so timeless, so unconditional.
She has instilled in us all a good sense of what truly matters in life, and that lesson has been passed down through generations. That lesson will live on.
She will live on. Because she is a part of who we are. And we will take her with us wherever we go.
We will always remember her gentle and meek personality, her amazing spirit.
Hers is a legacy that won't be forgotten.
I'll miss you nanny Palmer. You'll always be in my heart.
Quiet, calm, and much like myself- doing things on her own time in a secret hope that the world would wait on her.
It was a reciprocal relationship though, because as she wanted the world to be patient with her, she was patient with the world.
For as long as I can remember she had a head full of snow white hair which I always thought of as a reflection of her own pure heart.
Sharp, fun-loving, and always beautiful from the inside out.
The Palmer name has lived on and we can take pride in our heritage because of her.
She was someone that we can all look up to, and aspire to become more like.
She knew exactly what real faith should look like because she lived it every single day.
She was a loving wife (for over 65 years), mother, grand-mother, great grand-mother and friend.
She was and will continue to be an inspiration.
Many times I have looked upon her and Poppy Palmer in awe, hoping that perhaps someday I too could have a love so strong, so timeless, so unconditional.
She has instilled in us all a good sense of what truly matters in life, and that lesson has been passed down through generations. That lesson will live on.
She will live on. Because she is a part of who we are. And we will take her with us wherever we go.
We will always remember her gentle and meek personality, her amazing spirit.
Hers is a legacy that won't be forgotten.
I'll miss you nanny Palmer. You'll always be in my heart.
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