The Hope That Sings Out

A little girl wanting to draw. A long lost sister (or two). A husband wearing my glasses and playing baritone ukulele. A new kind of smile with deeper lines in the eyes. A new song to sing. A relationship deepening. Discovery of different espresso beans. Enriching of the heart. Being home. Holding hands with your father and never wanting to let go. Feeling the comfort of your husband. Being so proud of your growing little girl.

Being a sister and not a mother. Realizing your strength over and over and over again. Allowing yourself to sleep for hours. Trusting your family with your daughter. Trusting your community with your secrets. Calling out truths loud and clear and accepting nothing else. Allowing everyone a mood or two and the quiet to feel them. Breathing. In and Out and In and Out and In and Out.

Hurrah for this family of friends.

The Hole That Seems Unfillable.

Hi there. The second wave has hit. There's a depression, a grasping, a longing, a sadness. I have new fears; of crossing the street, of loosing a pencil, of saying goodbye. I have a new ability to panic that sits waiting below the surface of my functional exterior. The hands I hold will never be the size of hers, or as smooth. There will be no more phone calls every morning celebrating the glories of my life. I will not be told what is being made for dinner. I will not be told the events of the day. I will not hear her excited voice, or her check-in voice or her calls in times of anguish. Cecilia will not receive her silly packages.

I have a sadness that only I can hold. Others can lift me, others can reach out, they can hold me, but the well of sadness is mine. Edward has a different sadness, Nick has a different sadness. Only I can hold me. I feel the support, I hear the words and they all help, they are all comfort, but it is me who must bear the weight. Me who must feel the turmoil. It is I who will be ambushed by her handwriting, by an image, a smell, a story I cannot share. It is I who will lay awake unable to cry. It is me. This is me. This is my story, my path, my journey.

I feel ideas germinating, I feel art to create, food to digest, stories to tell. I feel knowledge and wisdom coming. I feel joy that will be boundless and inherent pride. A whole life to live for her. Another generation to infuse with her spirit, the gifts of creativity and education. I see textiles and artifacts in my future, a studio too small to house all of my ideas and plans, the creation is coming.

Every death brings a rebirth. Here we are all born again. The slate is wiped and it's time to start over. A life where I am the mother and Ce is the child. A life where I draw the lines and she breaks away. I pray for flexibility, for growth, for change in my body, in my life. I pray for peace in our family. Enough is enough, air your dirty laundry and move on!

Here's some of my laundry: Once in high school I hit someone's car and didn't tell anyone. I knew the person, but I was so scared of the reaction that I drove away. I have regret and shame to this day over this childish action, but here I am telling the free world of this action and moving on.

Step forward into the light of forgiveness with me.

Bebekah In Image.

In the rush to leave my home I didn't bring my camera,
(well that and it's not working properly right now anyway),
I wanted to share a few images of her, and things that brought her joy.

Hadley Ware Pottery.
Hedgehogs.
Marimekko.
Helen "Becky" Demetra Koulouris.
The Hopkins 3.

What A Long, Strange Trip It's Been

The rain has been falling for days now. It's not a hard rain, it's the kind that accompanies change of season, it reminds me of spring really, but of course we are headed into winter. We are headed into the cold and we are already in the dark. That's comforting actually we will soon have the longest night of the year which means that in 2 weeks time we will be having more light fill our days. This is one of our blessings.

The grief is so quiet right now. I am left wondering about our plan here constantly, and know that I have nothing but time to process the change within. I have a lifetime of processing ahead of me and an afterlife of peace.

When a life such as Becky's was so fraught with pain it creates an interesting dynamic in death. She was in severe emotional pain daily when she was living and now I truly believe she is free from that burden. We are free from her disease. I do not have to be worried about her anymore. There is no alcohol left for her to drink. There is no more judgment left for her to feel. There is no more hate to contend with. There is only love and it is a relief. I am not afraid of her any longer. I no longer have to guard my heart from her. A part of my soul has relaxed for the first time in my life.

So when I sound ok on the telephone, this is why. My mother and I have found peace for the first time. Exhale. I am thankful for this, and of course mightily confused by it. I keep wondering when the next wave of pain will come and am trying to conserve my energy for that time.

There has been a date set for her memorial service:
Saturday, December 17th at 10am.
Presbyterian Church in Topsham
There will be a reception to follow, please bring photos to share.

Here is a link to her Obit if you missed it.

I am also thinking of some sort of service in Washington County at some point, so do not feel like you HAVE to drive down if you cannot, we will have time to mourn her.

From Where I Sit.

The Silence Continues,

The Tear Well Feels Bare,


She Is In A Lighter Place.

From Where I sit I can see:

Hedgehogs everywhere.

Emails to respond to.

Her everywhere, with me in everything she's displayed.

A little girl looking for the ability to play, but trapped in fear.

Pride.

Creativity and beauty and a unique response.

Colors, Red-Oranges and Blues and White and cluttered Greys.

Devices meant to provide comfortable release to her body.

Cough Syrup everywhere.

Projects left undone.

A tired Puppa and Mumma who need to find some kids for this girl to romp with.

Christmas Presents.

Hope and Friendship and Fun.

The feeling of a storm coming, perhaps we're in the eye right now.

A sweet baby girl who really is our treasure.

Appointments with my long term psychologist Thur, Tue, Thur; a massage Fri and an appointment with her psychiatrist in 2 weeks.

The friendship and care of some serious ladying for me to melt into this weekend.

A whole community for me to melt into when I am ready to be home.

The new understanding that I have undergone a trauma over loosing a woman who was traumatic.

She was in recovery.

The hope that she will beable to somehow now come and play with Cecilia.

Light & Love

I began to dream again last night.,


Yesterday was so still,


Love is all around.

I promise that we are coping and I promise that we are taking care of ourselves. We are open and not closing. My mother's life was a hard one, she struggled with alcoholism for my entire adult life, which was her path of coping with being Bi-Polar and having a Borderline Personality Disorder (I still don't understand what that means). She was healing. I am left wondering many things which will come later.

My brother thanked me for knowing what to do the day we said goodbye to her body. And it's true, I have known what to do, for whatever reason my intuition is guiding this ship in our family. Perhaps it's because I have just become the matriarch of our little line at 18 McLellan Street. I realize that with the death of my mother that I have become an elder. At age 28 I am an elder. I seem to hold a wisdom beyond my years, and my action, my decisions affect EVERYONE'S mourning process. When I stand proudly others know that it's safe to stand proudly. When I laugh, they know that we are allowed to use humor in these difficult moments.

Of course I could be none of this without you mother. For all of the hard places her and I shared we were also working very hard to be loving and present for one another. I would draw places in the sand for her, lay boundaries where others could not and later, always later, she thanked me for it. She never hesitated to tell me how much our time together meant to her, especially of late. For all the fears she had in life, she was also so fearless to communicate. She instilled pride in me, creativity and the gift of the option to be exactly who I was. I have so much thanks for her life. So much thanks for my life.

I feel proud that I was able to give my mother her greatest joy in the last years in this human world. The gift of my family. For Rafi and Becky loved one another, he even used her childhood name, Bebekah, which meant little girl in Greek and was how she came to be Becky from Helen. We made Cecilia who was her beacon of hope and light and love. She brought her nothing but joy and don't we all deserve that? I feel so thankful for the gift of giving her that love. I know it will be what I always come back to as I mourn her, Love. I have discovered in this process that I am a conduit for healing. Allow us to heal together.

When I write these words, and you in turn read them you are healing me. It helps me to share. Keep the emails coming, it helps me write and to gather strength. You are never too much, and if you are I will tell you, so, worry not. Keep us all in the light and the love,.

Think of my family who mourns:
Edward,
Nick,
Barbara,
Molly,
Rafi,
Eileen,
Cam.

Think of our community who mourns and grapples and questions. Keep us all in light and love and help us all to find peace.

A Lifetime In 4 Days.

Let me catch you up. My mother died on Thursday, December 1st around 6:30pm. I was alone in my house with 3 candles lit, eating a salad dinner. She was on her way to a meeting in Bowdoinham, she got a little confused about where she was going and parked across the street in a group home's parking lot, spoke to 2 attendees who were outside to get permission to park there and they last saw her milling around her white Volvo. The state trooper Jonathan Leach fills us in from this point forward.

She crossed the street and had maybe 10 yards to walk to the mouth of the driveway, she was walking with traffic, wearing dark clothing on an unlit rural road with barely a shoulder. There were shrubs/hedges along the road which probably forced her to walk further over than she would have been naturally inclined to do. The pick-up truck was coming from behind a hill, another car was turning from the mouth of a driveway and the headlights were in Lisa Green's eyes. She did not see Becky there was an impact on the front passenger side of her truck and stopped immediately. She was not speeding and she was 3 driveways from her home. She got out of the vehicle, hollered out, heard nothing and found my mother. She had some EMT training and checked her pulse, she had one. She flagged down the next cars coming through.

Now our dear friend, and teacher Peggy Muir fills us in. She was also going to the meeting and was with my mother as she transitioned. She held Becky's hand. She told her not to leave us and that we loved her, over and over again. She was not in pain, she was glazed and her eyes were open and staring upwards. Peggy held her hand and told her that we loved her. She believes she knew this when she died.

The Times Record reported that they closed the road and cleared a place for a life flight helicopter to land. There was a helicopter circling, but never used it, which leads me to believe that she died at the scene of the accident, though she was pronounced dead at the hospital in Brunswick.

Becky's best friend Kathleen came to the scene as the ambulances were leaving. She wanted to be with Becky, but went to get Ed. She took Ed to the hospital where he saw her for quite a while. She was cold and he said he could not warm her, though he tried. Kathleen cared for him all night and stayed at the house until I arrived at noon the next day.

The house has been open and there have been a constant stream of people and food. We need vegetables and fruit, sweets and local organic meats. Edward loves pasta. Becky loved the farmer's market, so shop there if you're making meal. She left a vase full of daylilies and a house full of her. Everywhere you look she has decorated and filled and it's beautiful and comforting. We are SURROUNDED by friends and family and care and love and support and that helps tremendously.

There is more to say, but not today; I'll see you tomorrow. Forward my blog to anyone you think could benefit from reading it. This is an open mourning process. The memorial service will be in 2 weekends on the 17th or 18th in Brunswick. Thank you all for you blessings.