Sheila, a good cry cleans the view. Glad you could hear her words and then enjoy the day. Love potluck and always put too much on the plate.

Oh, Sheila, my day like that was Saturday. Hugs to you. Take as many of them as you need.

I like a good potluck too.

Jan

It comes in waves,doesn't it,with Christmas being a tsunami. I walked out to the woods last night where my parent's urns are buried and felt such a tug on my heart remembering all the holidays as a family.I'm glad you found some peace today and how lucky you and everyone else is who managed to have a decent relationship with their parents and can cry when they are gone.

Shelia, There's something about Christmas that just tugs at the heartstrings. I found myself getting teary over the weekend, for no visible reason other than the holiday seems to invite bittersweet nostalgia of days gone by.

And Marda is correct. You were lucky to have such a loving relationship with your mother. Here's hoping that next year your memories will be more sweet than sad.

I've mentioned this before but when my mother died Nora emailed me and said that what happens is that for awhile you remember and keep dwelling on those last days you were with them,but eventually that blurs and finally you can think about the past with clarity and she is so right. Now when I think of my mother,it isn't those last days of dementia in a nursing home but her laughing and singing and all the good things when she was younger and not so sick. I hope the same is true with you Sheila and of course with Di too. I've been thinking of her a lot this past week.

Yes,it's true that the memories become more bearable and you start to remember the good times. My mother loved cooking for the family and we always made sand tarts for Christmas on "Cookie Day" with my sisters and nieces. It was always fun and we still make the sand tarts and think of her when we do. She gave us copies of all her recipes and we use them frequently.

I do believe she is watching over her family. But she is in a much better place.

Blessedness

I think that is true, Marda. You see past the sadness and find the person again.

Ijust finished viewing the DVD's my daughter gave me for christmas. She had all the old 8mm movies we made during the 50's and 60's. What a wonderful walk down memory lane. The old christmas scenes and films of our trips. I would suggest that any of you who have those old films somewhere have them copied to a DVD the person she sent them to even used appropriate music to give them more life.
That was a real treat Ellie

Sheila, I, too, have moved past the nursing home memories to memories of my mother's laughter, her endless baking for four always-hungry kids, and her unconditional love of her family no matter what happened. Thank you for reminding me of that. Hope your new year is peaceful and full of joy.

It started, like with so many other people, earlier in the season when I was addressing cards and looked at the address book with lines drawn through names. That is likely a good ritual for a person to go through because it brings back moments of reflection on family and friendships past. I think those who have gone before us would want to think they're remembered over special occasions, no?

I sat at my kitchen window the day before Christmas and the tears flowed softly down my cheeks, until my eyes became so blurred I couldn't see. It seemed like somebody had kicked me hard in the gut, because I could feel it go into knots. Then the moment was over and I went on with trying to make the holiday joyful for those of us who are still together.

After my father died, nearly fourteen years ago, we dug out his strongbox labeled to open after his death. In it we found all the necessary documents my mother would need to wade through the settlement of his estate and deal with his pensions and annuities. They were even made out as far as he could fill in the details, right down to the addresses on the envelopes. All she had to do was to sign them.place a stamp on them, and post them. There were phone numbers written down to the offices where help was available to her if she needed it, since his career was with the government. It was a totally selfless act of a person who loved his family more than anything, and wanted to ease their pain. I know in my heart what he wanted for us was to remember him without sorrow. I know, as a parent, that I'd want my children to not grieve but rejoice in the love I left as my legacy to them. It helps tremendously sometimes to hold that thought.

I'm glad you found comfort in her words, and that they brought you peace. And being at a potluck surrounded by friends sounds like just the place to be. ((Sheila))