Closure

by Allison Moore | Feb 7, 2017 | Day by Day | 19 comments

I know many of my readers have been curiously waiting for me to share the details of the meeting with the other driver, and whether it even took place. It did take place, the very morning it was planned, though we weren’t sure the wife would be there or it it would be postponed till the last minute. It turned out that she only got the news that morning, and managed to come out during her lunch break.  I was grateful for her willingness to be there regardless of the communication mix up. Because of their repentant attitudes, I won’t go into all the details here. It’s their story too, which I don’t feel I can fully share now that we’ve established that. But I will say I went into the meeting assuming I would find uncaring people. I was ready to say my piece but I imagined the worst: that it would fall on blank ears. It wasn’t like that at all. We found a young couple who had been overwhelmed by the situation, who had listened to the advice of others/lawyers not to contact us or answer us. I still believe conscience should trump advice, because we have to live with ourselves and our choices. So we talked about that a little bit, and I explained what had happened to Vernon. I asked them my questions and they answered every single one. I felt like they were emotionally present with us, which I am sure was difficult. It was difficult for us too, but so important.I found out that he had lost his own father in a car accident when he was young. When I heard that, I stopped hearing anything else as clearly, but began to hurt for that boy.

So when Maki came in (we’d spoken as adults for a half hour or so, with lawyers in the room) and evenly delivered his words about his dad and how much he had changed after the accident, I know it was a big deal. (I don’t want to comment on that more here as I’m not sure who reads this.) Justine, who I’d thought would be full of words, got a little shyer in her “first adult meeting,” simply said: “I just want an apology.” They nodded tearfully, and apologized, mentioning that they too had a little boy about her age. She squirmed on my lap for a few seconds, and then looked back up at them: “I forgive you.”

So here we are. Finished with the hour long meeting we barely got to have. No money on the table, no sudden windfall. But it was never about that…I knew very early on in the case that there was no money to be had. But we got what we wanted out of the meeting, in the end. It took a few days to even be able to talk about it with my close friends. It still feels surreal. But something good happened. I could feel space for breath inside my body that hadn’t been there for a long time, maybe ever. I was less angry at the world (still sad and concerned, let it be known.) And even Maki said he felt good that it happened, he felt better.  So I guess that could be a kind of “closure” in itself. I don’t know what happens next, I’ll chat with my attorney. But in the meantime, there are no more ghosts around the accident. That in itself,is a spiritual breakthrough.

Incidentally, in the room we met, there was a framed photo of an eagle’s head. That was the bird Vernon used to say was his special animal that had showed up at significant times in his life. When I got home and opened the internet, this image came up—a meme with Vernon’s Amatic font. I’m taking it as a message from him. 🙂

Another Grief Poem

by Allison Moore | Feb 4, 2017 | Day by Day | 3 comments

Grief is an unexpected child,

helpless, needy, hungry,

desperate for my care,

dying without my attention.

Come from nowhere, left on a doorstep,

in a basket, dropped by a stork.

A baby all day in my arms,

keeping us fully awake nights,

whether I take her to bed with me

or put her on the other end of the house

in the dark, behind a closed door.

The unpredictable crying overwhelms us both.

There are tears, sleeplessness, guilt,

anger, frustration, but mostly

the early parenting fog

that disconnects you from the living.

What am I supposed to do with this thing?

The books don’t really help, and

those who have come before nod and cluck

and tell me: “you’ll figure it out.”

I speak to God and feel the answer:

“Keeping her alive is your most basic job,

keeping her healthy is better.

The more you put in, the more you’ll get out.

What kind of parent do YOU want to be?”

In time, of course, there is a routine

The baby smiles…says MAMA

I feel proud of this child, affectionate even,

and proud of myself for getting this far.

Soon, she starts to eat and grow.

I can hardly keep track of the changes.

Somedays nothing, we can barely leave bed,

but more and more: independence!

Then there is the day I take her to school,

and stop thinking about her till afternoon.

She starts to have a mind of her own,

wants to walk the bridge by herself.

A teenager emerges eventually/suddenly.

The thing parents dread: smells and hair and emotions.

And yet, it’s good. We’ve come this far together,

I remember my job isn’t to make you cling,

but to gently push you toward the door.

And then when that day comes, will I be ready?

To release you back to where once you came?

A child only lent to me to raise…

This grief, always entwined with my heart,

but not meant to live in my house forever.

When I think of that, I yearn for connections

Once she leaves, will she visit from time to time?

I’d be heartbroken if she didn’t.

We’ve become one with the effort.

I’ve put so much into you…don’t go too far, please.

This is a passport photo of myself and my mother circa 1972. (We were on our way to Guatemala for a couple of years.)

Nifty Fifty

by Allison Moore | Feb 3, 2017 | Day by Day | 2 comments

So…yesterday was a milestone in that it was Vernon’s first birthday post-earth. Also, he would have been 50, another major milestone. But we’ve done so much celebrate his memory over the past months, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of this. He was never big on his birthday, really. But I didn’t want to ignore the date. So I did something for myself that Vernon would have been proud of. I launched a new blog for my paintings of inspiring historical women. Please join me over there if you are so inclined. (More to come!) For me, this project represents how I feel about moving into the future as a single mother/woman—while hoping to encourage my sharp daughter’s independent thinking.

We also spent the evening at home making art together. Justine skipped out early, but I can show the ones Maki and I made here.

Of course, we had chocolate ice cream as well.

Click here for the Groundbreaking Girls Website.

Ice Cream (and Vernon’s Birthday)

by Allison Moore | Feb 2, 2017 | Day by Day |

Today would be Vernon’s 50th birthday, what a milestone! It’s also the first birthday since he died. So we know this is an important day. We want to invite everyone to eat chocolate ice cream in his honor, if you are so hungry. Here he is, just days before the end, showing how it’s done. Enjoy!

Missing Link

by Allison Moore | Jan 24, 2017 | Day by Day | 4 comments

“Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans.” —John Lennon

The past few weeks, I feel like I’ve entered a new numbness. Some of it has to do with a cold virus hitting the household at the turn of the year, but I think now, it’s more than that. I wonder…is this still Grief? It sure is depressing. Though I keep trying to remain positive, a new kind of exhaustion has come in. I’m fighting it with keeping busy. The painting has helped— I’m grateful for the ability to use this great mental health tool. And through that, I’ve been given two upcoming spaces to show my work….which means I’ll be spending the next few weeks figuring out how to frame and mount these pieces…as well as finish some more ladies. So that’s good news. I also have been invited to speak at a woman’s retreat in Texas this April, so that’s exciting to think about. But it remains…a certain numbness.

I realized it last week after I spoke with my attorney. He called to tell me that Mr. Phillips is willing to meet to discuss the accident, etc and was ready to set a date. I agreed that Monday, January 30 would work. Now, I had already been made aware that this could happen, so it wasn’t a surprise call. But I was surprised how the reality of fixing a date affected me. I feel almost like I’ve been thrown back into shock mode. I remember this feeling in the early days of the coma, though I think I was trying to talk more positively then (“I’m sure he’ll pull through/Our prayers will be answered.”) It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, this shock…it was like moving in a blanket of Grace. I didn’t have to be courageous, I didn’t have to think straight. I just had to show up. But now, Vernon is gone. There is no big event to focus on except getting the kids to school and working to pay bills. It’s just life. And the idea of finally meeting up with the other driver, though we have wanted this for so long, seems surreal—and my feelings, rather than angry or upset or even relieved, are strangely ambivalent. It’s as if its too much to process anymore.

But of course it can’t be. We have to process this too.I am bringing the kids along, at their requests, and I have asked that his wife attend the meeting with him. I don’t expect it will bring a full closure (and definitely not justice) but here we are at the tail end of the legalities that have been so slowly inching along outside of our dramatic story, which was filled with love and friendship, pain and suffering, fear and hope, faith and disappointment, hugs and kisses, fighting and waiting…and waiting some more. How can one meeting really make any difference? But we will be able to ask him some questions about that mysterious night…a missing puzzle piece. I expect he will be apologetic. And that may be it.  But it has to happen, whether or not we can get our heads prepared for it fully this week, and now we are nearly there. I think the children are clearer headed than I am at the moment. It’s strange to think about the past again when I’m working to hard to get my head into the future.

But if I can’t fully comprehend our own loss at the moment, I can look at Vernon’s…and speak for him.

But underneath it all, there was always LOVE.

American Women

by Allison Moore | Jan 19, 2017 | Day by Day | 3 comments

Justine and I finished the book “Little House on the Prairie” last night before bed. It’s been a fascinating read as an adult to my child, not least because I remember my father reading those books to me as a young girl. But I also have enjoyed the history lesson, one I can maybe appreciate more as a grown-up. On more than one occasion, I’ve mentioned Laura Ingall’s list of chores  while trying to get Justine to simply set the table. “She helped her father build a house!” Those pioneer’s were tough folks, but they carried on to make what they thought would be a better life for their families. America has changed so much since then, so it’s been interesting to visit our history, especially (in Justine’s case) to have it told by a girl.

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been delving more into my own heritage of strong American women that made a difference for themselves and others, that paved the way for the freedoms we have now. This may be the closest I ever get to homeschooling, but I’ve invited Justine into the project, introducing her to some of the foremothers I admired when I was young. Their legacy can inspire both of us.

I started with Eleanor Roosevelt…

Susan B. Anthony

Amelia Earhart

Rosa Parks

Bessie Coleman

Helen Keller

We have so much to learn from those who came before. And so much to be thankful to them for.