It was the mid 60’s or perhaps the early 70’s. My mom (Irmgard) was preparing potatoes. Cooking potatoes was never my mom’s strong suit. There were 2 options, crunchy or burnt. Enter the pressure cooker. These were not the sleek InstaPot kind. These were heavy duty pots that cooked on the stove top. The covers were a scary looking contraption that took both courage and strength to use. In went the raw potatoes, a bit of water, some salt and on went the lid. Then we waited.
I distinctly remember being very afraid. Would mom be able to manage this without starting a house fire? Lest you think I’m exaggerating there were Sundays we’d come home from church to find the kitchen/family room thick with smoke from a very burnt roast alongside charred potatoes. My mom didn’t like following directions hence my angst as I waited for her to unleash the pressure that was cooking these potatoes.
I held my breath. She released the valve. Steam came streaming out of the valve. No explosion, no one was steam burned. I can actually still feel that huge exhale.
And that’s what I felt the day after I wrote my last blog post. Apparently in grieving I was holding my breath. On Wednesday, there was a huge exhale followed by reprieve from the crush of the sorrow.
There is no illusion on my part that this reprieve will last forever. While I’m up for air please accept my gratitude for your love, caring, prayers, kind thoughts and non judgemental replies. While God might be quite big enough to hear my cries of angry unbelief, having that affirmed from those of you in the ‘land of the living’ created a safe place for my anger, fear and pain. Community, eh?
I do want to clarify that I know 100% that others are living with loss greater than mine. I only need to spend a few minutes on any news site to witness tragedy and devastation from around the world to here in my own city of Vernon.
Grief & loss is not a competition. My heart breaks for those near and far who have lost love ones. In expressing grief, I am expressing my own grief and how it is impacting me. We all grieve differently. We are all unique. Yet, the common theme of loss can bind us together in understanding. Your understanding held me up this week. Thank you doesn’t seem enough.
For now, the valve holding pressure in my heart has been released. For now, I can breath more freely. For this week, I experienced ‘better’.
Love, Carol
Better is Possible 