Monday, June 19, 2017

Life... in the "BIG Onion"

Allison standing before one of her favourite paintings "The Adoration of the Magi" by Paolo Veronese. (c 1580) This is truly... the real... "Shock and Awe"

Wednesday, June 14th

Strange... this emotional state of  grief. Hard to describe. Hard to understand. Hard to cope with and mostly...  hard to forget at this stage beyond mere minutes. Sometimes... "like fog on kitty cat feet", it creeps up on you." At other times, it seems to totally swallow you like an avalanche or tsunami. Its cause is always obvious. How to climb out of its grasp safely is not.

Took a necessary break here in the composition of this post... just plain... outta steam!

Friday, May 26th marked the first month anniversary for Allie's passing. Though I readily recognized the fact and placed it on my calendar, I truthfully felt less of the destructive side effects that I had faced almost hourly in those first part of the month. The "missing" remains of course and in its full intensity. At some points in my day, I even feel guilty that my grief has even lessened so soon after her death.

There is no magical passageway to bypass grief... except to pass through it.  I can liken my own ongoing process of passage through my grieving to the common act of peeling an onion. The first cut releases an overwhelmingly punishing attack on the eyes (depending on the size and variety of the onion) and triggers uncontrollable and even painful floods of tears. These emotional responses must be endured and some people even look to strategies like cutting it under water in the sink to diminish its effects. But for most of us, we simply endure and carry on until gradually... our tears and the painful experience diminish and subside to become a distant memory.

The "big onion" metaphor can be further extended to describe how grief must likewise be pared or peeled away in layers until we get to the heart of the loss and can better understand the overall implications and realities which will allow us to create a new "normal" to replace the old one which has disappeared forever. It is only then that the seeds of new hope... meaning in life... happiness and a new life of joy can be planted and begin to flourish to enable one to create a new life without the departed member or loss suffered.

I am certainly still peeling... and reeling over Allison's tragic death. I still have a long way to go before I can finally find and fully enjoy that peace I seek. But my own journey is underway... independent of everyone else involved. I accept that Allie has gone and will not return. I accept that her spirit and energy have left this physical and frail existence that we call earthly life. In better terms, I also realize and am thankful that her long suffering is over. I am deeply saddened ... even angered that I must accept that her dreams... good works and personal possibilities have ceased at the same time.... except

That she pleaded with her Mom, her brother and I that we continue to live out our time in her honor to enable her spirit and work be continued despite her premature passing. I have promised/committed to make that so for as long as I have the time and energy to carry forward the gifts that she left with me.

I have plunged myself into the act and process of recovery, first by reading a marvelous guide/handbook by Bob Deits entitled "Life After Loss". I most heartily recommend it to anyone suffering any type of loss in the full spectrum of loss possibilities arising out of situations arising from death, financial, marital, or health issues. All qualify as losses that likely require professional support, counselling and considerable time to bring about closure.

I have made arrangements through my personal physician for counselling and am currently on a waiting list... which is why the book came first. I am as well researching a subject in preparation to get back to my painting. Painting for me has always been meditative and necessary to my overall well-being. Some ideas are presently floating about.... so stay tuned...

 I would like to end this post with a piece of art... not mine... but one brought to me by a young woman, "Meenie" (allie's word) for Maureen... who was so influenced by the two year old Allie that she was moved to make this wonderfully tender objet d'art/tribute that she delivered to me here in Rockport when she learned of Allie's passing. Allison would have loved this tribute so. It speaks of the plain and simple manner of Maureen... blended with a sensitive creative heart. It's price-less... to me for it captures in the simple eye of a child... the very essence of life that enjoined Allie and I since she was born!

The small "stone angel" portrait is simply titled: "Bruce and Allie... 1982." Doesn't it say everything???

Father's Day 2017 has been particularly difficult for me. This year marks the unexpected departure on a day where our family generally comes together... at least by mail or on the telephone. All of my children "checked in"... making the day more bearable  and less painful for me. I feel deeply blessed for this gift of love from each of the other four.

This is the face of a Venetian card made for glass bead work on handmade venetian paper that I received from Allie last Father's Day. This was the message of hope and love that accompanied it au verso. She always sent such a personal card in appearance... always accompanied by inspiring and uplifting words. Last year's card and message to me form the very foundation of my spiritual journey and strength. I owe that largely to her and my other children.

Is "She" gone???... NEVER!... for I carry her in my heart until I too reach the other side.

This is a small cast pewter amulet that Allison asked me to carry... and I did so throughout her valiant and courageous struggle against breast cancer. Do I [still] believe in miracles? Yes I do!

Allison was that miracle in my life... and for many others that she met and served in her too brief existence.

"I" love "You" ... FOREVER Jemima Puddle Duck!!

Life was good!

In closing out today's [too] lengthy Father's Day post, I wish to offer each of my other four children my thanks and rich blessings of Happiness ... Health... Peace and Joy in your own journeys! I love you all dearly... and equally for your unique contributions to my life and Happiness.



  1. Wonderful post Dad! I thought at length of a response but realized I had already shared all of my words when we spoke yesterday, so instead I thought I'd pass along a little tidbit from Allie. This is an excerpt from the chain quote/poetry email we all shared, I don't know if she had already passed this along to you or if she shared something different with each of us, but in any case, here it is:

    It was a snowy night and Robert was recalling the time two springs ago when he was determined to paint the family room. Up early, he was out the door, to the hardware store gathering the gallons of red, the wooden mixing sticks, the drop cloths, and the one-time brushes that always harden, no matter what you soak them in.

    He mixed the paint outside and waddled to the door with a gallon in each hand, the drop cloth under his arm, and a wide brush in his mouth. He began to chuckle in telling what happened, “I teetered there for minutes, trying to open the door, not wanting to put anything down. I was so stubborn. I had the door almost open when I lost my grip, stumbled backwards, and wound up on the ground, red gallons all over me.”

    At this point, he laughed at himself, as he has done many times, and we watched the snow fall in silence. I thought of his little story the whole way home. Amazingly, we all do this, whether with groceries or paint or with the stories we feel determined to share. We do this with our love, with our sense of truth, even with our pain. It’s such a simple thing, but in a moment of ego we refuse to put down what we carry in order to open the door. Time and time again, we are offered the chance to truly learn this: we cannot hold on to things and enter. We must put down what we carry, open the door, and then take up only what we need to bring inside.

    It is a basic human sequence: gather, prepare, put down, enter. But failing as we do, we always have that second chance: to learn how to fall, get up, and laugh.


    Looking back on this story she passed along, it almost seems prophetic in a metaphorical sort of way, and in particular seemed to speak to the content of this post of yours. Food for thought.

    Love you Dad! All of the best,


  2. Dear Liam...Thank you Son... for sharing these inspiring and uplifting words... "chained from Allison to You... and then to my own thoughts in this post.

    Your choice of this story is simply a splendid example of but one of the mysterious ways of the Universe. The words speak to me eloquently... and remind me so much of Allison's intellect and spiritual values and capabilities.

    She'd be so proud to know... as am I to know... that you have been influenced by her role model and encouragement. Do her and yourself proud Liam.

    Good luck with your mid terms. Look forward to a get together soon!

    All my love ALWAYS!

  3. Keep on keeping on and be as kind to yourself as you are to others. You are in my thoughts.

  4. Thank you for keeping on... keeping those uplifting thoughts coming Lisa. It is the encouragement of friends like yourself that lessen the darkness and pain. Thank you!

    Warmest regards... and good painting!

  5. Thinking of you daily, Bruce.
    xo Meenie.

  6. Thanks Meenie!... Trying every day to get back on the horse... and am feeling better now that I am able to paint again - a good sign! I will likely be posting here again soon... but fully intend not to dwell as much as I have with the grief feelings... but changing the focus to my painting (the silver side of the cloud) again.

    Stay tuned...
    XO Bruce

    PS Glad that Golden Pond was such a hit... and that your Bath shows are producing encouraging results for you. Stay with it... Stone 'em to death! HA HA!