The Cardinal

Last night my dear neighbor brought over a delicious dinner of chicken and broccoli casserole together with a salad and a beautiful bouquet of flowers. It was so sweet of her to think of me. I am truly thankful for her food, understanding, and friendship. She is a life savor because I hadn't even opened the refrigerator to see what was in it since I returned home. Eating hasn't been on my mind although I know it is necessary. After arranging the flowers in one of my best vases, I sat down to an unexpected dinner with my husband, Gary. My neighbor is a good cook; the food tasted warm and comforting. Thank you Sandy.

I guess I'm officially in the mourning stage. Now that I am home, I no longer need to be strong. I can cry, feel sad, and remember my mother. Here at home I feel it is safe to let out my feelings. I'm trying but it is not easy. I've suppressed many of them for days.

I miss my father terribly and think of him almost every minute but I stop myself from calling him. I know he needs his mourning time too: alone. He is grieving much more than I am. I did get an e-mail from my brother today telling me that my father went swimming! I know this is a good sign but my heart aches at the thought of him putting his duffel bag together; saying good-by to the dog; driving alone to the fitness center; jumping into the pool. He is swimming bravely in a new sea of life. I know it is not one he chooses. Yet my heart sings at the thought of him striving to move on; one stroke at a time. I am proud of you, Dad.

I haven't unpacked my suitcases, combed my hair, washed my face or gotten dressed. I'm still wearing my pajamas from Wednesday night. Other than sleeping (a lot), I haven't done any thing. I feel no joy, no enthusiasm, no excitement, no 'anything.' I just feel numb. Is this normal? I'm guessing it is and my intuition tells me that I must endure it. Oddly enough, I don't feel depressed. Rather, I feel suspended somewhere in the time before my mother died and today: the present.

The doorbell just rang. A beautiful floral arrangement arrived. "Who is it from," my husband, asked. The loving arrangement of red roses, winter greenery, silver pine cones and red velvet ribbon was sent by two of my oldest and dearest friends here in St. Louis. Like sisters, we have always been there for each other; through the good times and the bad. Perched amid the rosebuds, a red feathered cardinal sat prominently placed on a spray of a silvery twig. I took this as a sign from my mother and wiped away my tears. For years Mom mailed me cardinal items; dishes, clothing, figurines, and even wind chimes (her favorite). My mother followed baseball and knew St. Louis was 'Cardinal' country. We are big fans as is anyone who lives in this city.

My mother is looking down on me. I feel her presence.