A few weeks ago it seemed all that I wanted to do was eat. It was almost like I was carb loading for some athletic pursuit. I couldn't get enough of all that comfy nosh -- sandwiches, fries, cookies....battered anything...top of the list.
Now, I've swung the other way... to not really wanting to eat all that much of anything. Sure, I have my moments but generally, I'm by-passing the cookies, the other half of the sandwich, anything previously held in high greasy-esteem.
A few weeks ago, I seemed to be attempting to fill an emptiness that I couldn't shake. Thing is, the emptiness is still here, at times it feels even more vast than it did a few weeks ago but eating non-stop doesn't seem to be the solution, it's no longer comforting. It doesn't solve anything, doesn't bring my Mum back. If anything, in the long run it just made me feel worse. It was just something to do for awhile I guess when everything seems so overwhelming and you'll seek solace in just about anything.
No doubt the semi-starvation routine will up sticks and I'll return to my cozy comfort eating hideout at some point. The two bags of Chips Ahoy cookies in my cupboard have been starved for my attentions...
One of the many joys I had with my Mum was sharing our favourite television programs and movies. The one problem, however, is that Mum was always busy doing *something* -- toiling away in her garden, tending to her beloved dogs, baking -- and was hard to pin down. Getting her to sit and relax was a hard sell.
But when we did hit upon a gem of an entertainment nugget where she would stop and chill in front of the TV, it was simply brilliant. One such experience revolved around every gal's favourite quartet of girlfriends in 'Sex and the City.'
Mum didn't watch the series during its first TV run but we managed to get her all caught up via DVDs and its upteenth airing of repeats. Mum loved it! She adored the girly chat, the crazy situations they managed to find themselves entangled in, and of course, Mr. Big. She thought he was mighty fine and was so thrilled when Carrie eventually ended up happily ever after (at least at the conclusion of the first SATC flick) with her Manhattan prince.
At times I thought that the more risque language and adventures (looking at you, Samantha Jones!) might have been a bit much for Mum - she was such a polite, private woman - but it was silly to worry. Mum would laugh hysterically at their hi-jinx, never ever having an issue with any part of the show. And that's just like Mum. Just when I thought that I knew her fully, she would manage to surprise me.
The much anticipated second 'Sex and the City' movie opens this week. I will be going, and thinking of how much Mum would have loved it.
When you've suffered a life changing loss, it seems at times that you are all alone in your pain, that the rest of the world is spinning along oblivious. Everyone seems on track, happy...and it's hard to watch when you feel like the bottom has fallen out of your universe.
Sometimes it feels good to delve into a medium where your emotions are mirrored and I think that I've found some solace from Dido's most recent album, 'Safe Trip Home.' I originally purchased it back when it first came out - fall of 2008 - since I own her previous release and would call myself somewhat of a fan albeit a lapse one. The tone of 'Safe Trip Home' is somewhat sombre with lyrics that tell of a deep loss and the struggle to continue on despite it. At the time I had read that Dido wrote the album following the death of her beloved father and for no reason that I can explain at the time, I really didn't play it much. Maybe it was too raw for me as in late 2008 I wasn't in a similar situation... everyone was healthy, Christmas was coming, my thoughts were on a more upbeat plane, perhaps.
Now a year and a half later, I was playing my iPod before nodding off to sleep the other night, and scrolled through my 5,000+ songs and found 'Safe Trip Home' once again. It was a revelation...it struck a powerful cord prompting tears & a more profound sadness, but for a spell I didn't feel like I was all alone in my grief. Someone knew exactly what I was feeling. I just wish that I could tell Dido 'thank you' for 'Summer', 'The Day Before the Day', 'Quiet Times' and the rest. Gorgeous.
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