Figs and Fragments…

I stood at the oldest of my Celeste Fig trees and ate a few ripe figs, warm from the mid June sun. They were tasty, but precocious figs, by my estimation. Just last summer, my sister, Susan, settled the fig arrival conundrum…”They are usually ready around Byron’s birthday (July 10),” she declared and, for me, wrote in stone. But this year….hmmmm, not so? I cannot blame it on a warm winter; it snowed here in the deep Deep South. I don’t know the answer, but what I do know is that I will always think of Susan when I stand under my Celeste Fig tree and enjoy a fat warm fig in summer. It will be in the still of the morning when dragonflies are feasting and the sun is not too high or too hot… It will be a gift she has left me with. Although beautiful,  the memory accentuates this hole in my heart, this void in my life, these tears on my face…I am having one of those days…

It is a day in June, the month I knew would be my most difficult. We were both born in June. I was first by years, 1954, and she was second, 1958.  She, a Gemini, me, a Cancer…8 days apart on the calendar but constellations apart in personalities…the years and the differences were initial barriers we overcame and, eventually, turned into strengths; I suppose we became compliments of one another. Our relationship evolved, it took time and many trials but, as most families can confirm, there was always the bond of love and as you know, it conquers all.

It is “one of those days” for me, a day that you are familiar with  if you have lost someone you love, a day that pops up now and then…grief knocks at your door and will throughout time, uninvited and unexpected and I have decided, it is best to just let it in, to go with it. I will and I will feel better in a bit. It is very difficult to be without her, she grounded me and she loved me like only a sister can and I her…

I think something that brought on this wave of loneliness was a moment in my little chicken yard. I was in the exact spot I stood 3 months ago at 3 in the morning watching the full moon wane and mesmerized by the light it cast on the early spring growth, all the while, unbeknownst to me, my sister was passing, transitioning. I was there, in the same spot, yesterday in the late afternoon and my mother’s four o’clocks were open and had overtaken the fragrance of the outdoors. I stood there once again and I became so lonesome for her and my mother. Anyway, I am glad to have these strong and powerful moments, they force me to stop and just remember and to feel those feelings of love for her.

I don’t mean for this post to be a downer, it is just an expression of a basic human hurt that we all experience. For me, writing and remembering help to pull me along. I feel better now. For the most part, her memory is a beautiful expression in my heart but now and then, my heart hurts. I have learned to just go with it and after a few tears (and sometimes words), I feel better…

p.s. I watched the Secret Life of Bees late last night. 

 

p.s….I do not know where you are on your spiritual journey but for me, I look to Nature for many answers and signs. A week after Susan passed, a female cardinal came to my window and she has visited many times since. Right after I posted this blogpost, she came again…

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