wings and things

Banishing grey

on November 18, 2013

This afternoon I ventured outside to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to free myself from the grey hopelessness of exile.

Earlier in the day, I had been to the local shop (in this little country town we have one shop, a butcher’s, a pub, a garage and a post office). For the last few weeks I have been reluctant to go to any of these places for fear that someone will ask me about Ming’s car accident, for fear that I will stumble into defensiveness, for fear that I will cry in public. So far, I have braved the shop twice. Today was my third time and I thought I would be okay, but when the shopkeeper looked at me knowingly and asked how I was, I started to say fine then, without warning, my eyes filled with tears and, when she reached over the counter to hug me, I was undone. Thankfully there were no other customers and I recovered myself quickly, making a quick escape to home – to my hiding place.

Yesterday someone asked me how Ming was coping with the fact that his ute (truck) was wrecked and the question almost felt like an assault. “He doesn’t care in the least about his ute; he only cares about the children injured. The ute doesn’t matter to any of us,” I said, my heartbeat thundering.

This afternoon I ventured outside to catch a glimpse of something, anything, that wasn’t grey. Each photo I took reminded me of how important hope is, and of how important every single member of my family is to me.


46 responses to “Banishing grey

  1. I’m glad you looked for, and found, shades of hope.

  2. Ingrid says:

    … and shades of grey in every photo … with a splash of colour here and there … and I guess that’s symbolic of life – shades of grey ,,, with a splash of colour here and there … or a splash of colour here and there with shades of grey …

  3. bulldog says:

    Ming had an accident… so did I… and one has to forget about it and move on… what has happened cannot be reversed, and the chances are that most others have forgotten about it… I assume (having been missing for a while) that all are recovering well and life continues on… Julie you can’t hide away from history you have to accept that it happened and return to normality within yourself, others I’m sure know exactly what you are going through and probably want nothing more than to support you as the shop owner did…

  4. I pray every day is getting a little easier for all of you.

  5. Ingrid says:

    That is so good Julie – surely the best news of the week so far

  6. Tammy says:

    I sympathize with you, Julie, and send cyber hugs of encouragement while you go through this hard, hard time. The post was beautiful and the photos are symbols of exactly the type of thing that I do to lift my spirits – walk around and commune with my animals, with nature, with something that is beautiful and innocent to help heal. Better days for you, friend.

  7. elizabeth says:

    When you’ve got a heart that cares, you’ve got a heart that cares. So glad you found those beautiful everyday miracles that remind us we are not alone. (((Hugs)))

  8. dods robertson says:

    Breathe Jules, its all you can do. As you take that deep breathe imagine everyone will be ok. Imagine ants ming your mum and their love filling you up. Breathe that in every time before you need to answer anyone. Now add all our love too. Xxx blessings beautiful.

    Sent from my Windows Phone ________________________________

  9. I’m thinking of you and Ming and trust me, everyday will get a little easier. It was an accident, there was no malice, no intent, just an unfortunate accident. Everyone is on the mend and Ming is being the stand up, responsible young man that you and Anthony taught him how to be. I’m so happy that you have your own oasis and sanctuary to replenish your soul when it’s in need.

  10. FlaHam says:

    Julie, Soft smile, I know the images you shared did you a world of good as you collected them, and made them ready. They showed you there is a brightness even in the most greyest of days. And trhere is always hope. Your home town sounds quaint, your neighbors seem like good folks, they care for you, and wish you the best, though their questions maybe ill timed. Venture out again, go get a steak, and a couple stamps. Make your presence known. They want to see you, and you need to be seen. Take care, be safe. Love Bill

  11. Oh, Julie…I know this is rough. Thinking of you guys…a lot.

  12. Judy says:

    My parallel universe with you is apparent. I just wrote these lyrics: “Hope came with the rainbow through my tears . . .” Yes, I see color as hopeful and witnessing the beauty right in my view, despite feeling a gray cloud overhead. The rainbow appears after the storm. Crying is important – those rainbows need moisture! For me, obviously I turn my pain into song lyrics. Life does hold pain and yours has been very challenging lately. Thinking of you and sending a big hug.

  13. While first instinct is to say …try to put it behind you… I know only too well that it’s not that easy…There are steps to take for grief such as you’re feeling… my hope is that these steps will soon take you to a peace…… Diane

  14. janeslog says:

    It happened in the past so you cannot change it. Stop worrying about what people think. Chill out and do what you want. Who cares what people think?

  15. So sorry to hear you have been on pins and needles still. You are dealing with so much, Julie, and doing such a good job at holding yourself together. I send you hugs through cyberspace and thoughts of wellness. I think of you often. Hang in there. If things can get better for me, they will get better for you!

  16. Terry says:

    I hope it made you feel better getting out. Your landscaping is beautiful

  17. Debbie says:

    I think it’s such events that happen in the midst of an ongoing burden that exacerbates our grief, where we wonder ‘what else will happen now,’ and we want to run and hide. And Kid #2 Rich reminds me, “Mom, life goes on.” And then I remind him, “Son, life’s not fair, and don’t ever think it is.” Seems like things come in waves, and then suddenly a calm period appears. I heard today that the darkest moments are just before light breaks, so dear Julie, light cometh. Sending you big Texas love across the waves….XO

  18. His ute would be the last thing on his mind, and I can imagine how hard it was for you to venture into town.

  19. i hate that you are carrying such a heavy burden. sending you warm big hugs and love my friend.

  20. tersiaburger says:

    An accident is exactly what the word implies – an accident! People mean well when they show concern for Ming. Ming is a child of the community. Time to leave your self-imposed exile my precious friend. Allow people to care and hug you. Much love – as always.

  21. dcwisdom says:

    Good for you, Julie! Change of scenery sometimes changes perspective. You are strong, Julie. You’ll make it through and come out shining.

  22. Lynda says:

    Julie, I read your post and the comments. My feeling is that it is not the interaction with others in your neighborhood. Rather, it’s the having to keep confronting the pain of the accident, via their well meaning questions, that keeps you in. Yes? You will not ‘get over’ that day, but you will come to grips with it. You will learn to live with it and it will be less painful for you, and all that were involved. It takes time to heal the emotional hurts just as it takes time to heal the physical, and none will heal overnight. You cannot erase what has transpired, but you will come to terms with the ache.

    In the meantime, I am glad that you are surrounded with such beauty, and that you are seeking it as a balm for your senses while you heal.

    Thank you for sharing that beauty with us. xo

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