Saturday, December 11, 2010

Santa's Little Helper

Dad was, for years, in his baggie in a beautiful box upstairs, quiet, but generally far from me physically. When I found him his box, I kept him in the guest room for a while, afraid of knocking the lid off, and frankly not knowing where to put him. More recently, I put him in a niche in my bedroom; a quiet and fragrant spot where he would be unlikely to be disturbed.

Today I brought him down to help me decorate the tree.

I want him down here; where it is warm, where life really lives. Not to be displayed, not to be a trophy. Somewhere safe.

The bookshelves would be appropriate, but are not yet ideal to my mind. There is a drawer he could stay in, unseen, central, safe. Something like that. Ever present. As he is.

For now, he's helping deck the halls. Soon I'll know where he should stay for a while.


Wolfmammy said...

It is a beautiful box, hun! I'm glad that you are celebrating the holidays with him.

Is it weird that I sometimes think that my grandmother is doing the things I'm doing with me because I wear that necklace? The remainder of my grandmother is in one of my doll's heads. I have some in a casket locket that I normally wear constantly. The last few days I've decided to let her rest somewhere safe. It gets to be too much around the holidays, for me, to have the constant reminder of her absence. I feel so bad for saying that. Like she's some kind of burden in death. :/ I guess I'm still not 'okay', yet.

Merry Christmas, Love.

DLM said...

I don't think that is weird at all; it's the very essence of life, of mourning, and of death. It's love, Wolfie. Eight years now, and I'm still playing with my box of daddy.

I do want to get a locket for some of his cremains. I love the one Zuba has; keep needing to look. Never do.

But putting them away, this too is fair. I think most of us would bow out after our own deaths; some celebrations are for the living, as youth is for the young - or something like that. Follow your instincts, and forgive yourself not being okay. You're not supposed to be. And there is no rule, no time, no deadline on sorrow, bereavement.

Merry Christmas to you, too, dear Wolf.

Wolfmammy said...

Merry Christmas to you my dear Glamazon Warrior. I love you, hun. ^_^