My Truth…

tears

I had a feeling…

quickened my breath

was my own undoing

felt an internal burning

tightening of my thoughts

I had a dream…

that I was kind

heard my fathers laughter

touched your face

was forgiven

I had a nightmare…

that this was real

grasping at the ground

felt my fear

was locked in my own prison

I had hope…

heard my own laughter

felt my hear flutter

felt the rain

 I was forgiven

“Life is whispering…Are you Listening”

tree

So often I have heard, “How do I go on”, “how will I get through this”, I have even uttered, screamed these same words myself . How do we go on, the sad fact is I don’t have the answer. I think its different for every person out there, and we get to choose how we move on. How we get through these hard times, these rough patches, has no real solid answer for us as a whole. We just do, at first you live on autopilot. You wake up every day and you tell yourself today you will get out of bed, you will then feed the dog, then take a shower, it becomes almost methodical; done without conscious thought, like when you get home from work without any memory of the drive. The old saying that time is the ultimate healer really has some validity to it. With time some things do get easier, and your able to laugh and then you feel bad for laughing, guilt for being happy. But the truth is that its our own selves that hold onto the past, we create our own prisons, we feed our own demons, we choose to stay in what is comfortable; to some this is the darkness of their own minds, trapped in the thoughts they create or pretending things didn’t happen, instead pushing them further and further into the recesses of their subconsciousness; and for others its giving their feelings a voice, singing or writing about them, but ultimately it is time that forces us to heal, for the hardest part of grieving is watching the world go on.

quote

The universe will always finds a way of humbling us, to bring us into ourselves, find our true nature, our strength. For me it was stripping me of my security like when your parents throw away your old blanket that smells of childhood. My relationship, my father, my car, job security, the comfort of home, my soft grey fur baby. Sometimes the level of sadness in me is still so great and depression my old friend comes by for a visit. Silently I continue to struggle with accepting that my life will never be the same and I carry the burden of reconstructing myself piece by piece, finding the true nature of all of my parts and trying to fit them together to make the complete puzzle that is me. I no longer have the comfort and security of the life I had before. I no longer have my father, for the plain comfort a father can bring or to help me through my rough patches. Night has become a place of unsettled anxiety, I wake up every night at 4 am heart racing, gasping for breathe feeling such an immense sense of fear. Afraid of what is coming next, what else the universe is going to take from me.  For the universe will always call back what is no longer necessary.

The universe will demand its due, how it is chosen to pay her is not always our choice, but how we choose to survive, to heal, and go on is. I don’t know what separates the survivors from the ones who cannot, the strong from the weak. Survivors just do, they realize they have no other choice but to go on. I don’t think its a lack of something for the ones who cannot move on and heal, it is sometimes the ability to feel too much, the overwhelming sense of losing oneself to the grief, the fear, the sadness. For some that is just too much to bear, so they hide in the prison of their minds, wrap themselves in the darkness and lose the hope that is needed to start a path towards healing. I think having a support structure, arms to hold you up when you are weak and those who sing your song back to you when you have forgotten the words is vital. I hope for every soul who is hurting and broken, covered in grief to choose to find the light that is illuminating their path instead of wrapping themselves in the darkness. I know the comfort that the darkness can bring, how it can suck you in so deep that the path out is hidden, so… I say, always bring a flashlight….

quote_1

“The Girl Made of Ashes” (Updated)….

burning ashes

 

I.

She stood looking out at the sun rising casting sprays of light, reflecting a cascade of orange and yellow over the waves. She felt him even before he touched her, gasping as the heat of his touch singed her. It was like this with them, and she felt overwhelmed by the depth of sadness in it. He burned like fire for her and she was so willing and ready to become ashes for his touch. They spent most of the morning sitting quietly entwined on her balcony, watching the rippling of the water. They knew that it would not last, this peace, allowing themselves the morning to relish in it, trying to hold onto it as long as they could.

Love is like that, filling us with the need to hold it so tightly and hide it within, when in reality it is the lightly held grasp of a feather that is the truest form of love. She knew deep in her heart that he had to leave, it was his destiny after all and she couldn’t stop him from this. He had hidden in this cottage by the ocean with her for so long now that she forgot that forever was not in their cards.  Theirs was a different story, one of longing and need.  When she finally turned to him she glimpsed the flicker of fire in his eyes, afraid they would turn the waves that crashed in her heart to steam. She reached up and touched his face; he was so beautiful this boy she loved. His eyes deep wells of blue and often she felt like she was drowning in them. He whispered her name, “Cassandra” but she just shushed him and like a ghost drifted up and inside.

She had waited so long for him, feeling the physical ache of missing him. She had survived without him and would survive again till he chose to return to her; as he always did, for fleeting moments of warmth, his need for her to quench the fire that burned inside of him. She felt such possession of this, this need that radiated through her heart. She was powerful, bestowing her love on him, allowing him pieces of her magic.  Time was different for them, feeling like forever in her heart with fleeting moments in his.  She knew when the full moon rose tonight; he would have to leave and would not return again, until the need for her grew too much for him to bear.  She wished there was a way to merge their souls into one place, not the fluid state they had dealt with for years. She was ethereal, a whispering breeze to his rooted sense. She did not want to stop him from being who he was; but she knew that his heart beat with it.

She had stupidly, in a moment of fleeting weakness asked him, “Why do you love me”? He of course had answered with proclamations of his love, his depth of devotion to her. The same things she had heard from his mouth for longer than she should believe it. She sighed, she knew he loved her, she just wondered why he kept coming back to her for only tiny moments in their lives. What was she offering to him that kept him coming back to her; was she feeding his ego, or his heart? She had gazed back at him with thoughts of lying with him, their hearts beating in sync.

He really did have such a deep devotion to this magical woman, as she did to him. “When you leave you always take a piece of me with you”, she had whispered to him as she touched his chest, and felt his heart flutter. No sooner had the breathe of those words left his lips, a slow rumbling erupted that grew until it blocked out all other sound.  The ground felt like it was being ripped out from under them, the thin line that separated their worlds was being merged, and it was fuzzy and wavering. The two of them blinking, feeling like they were being shifted out of existence.  Little did they know that their world was at that moment being changed, their destiny rewritten, and everything they thought was set in the stars was being erased.

II.

When we are little we put our ears on our parents chest, as we grow, upon the chest of our lovers; we are soothed by the rhythmic beating of their hearts.  It is the sound of life, a binding to us.  We are taught our heart is the giver of love, that if we give it to another we are giving a piece of ourselves.  This magic, this power we all hold in us, it beats everyday as a reminder that we are all connected, that life goes on. We hold a responsibility to honor it, to honor ourselves, to honor others.  She did not feel that her heart was being honored though, at least not in the way she did with the one she held. She was growing weary, What if the rumbling ground yesterday was a sign that she needed to finally close that door to him, to let him go without a promise to come back. She was just so tired, emotional drained by always being the one waiting, which was excruciating for her. Finding the inner strength to let go was almost as hard to bear as the thought of losing him. She knew deep down that giving him comfort, a place to run too was her way of helping him to escape reality. She was the humble girl who lived in the cottage on the cliff, deep in the woods where rarely anyone had the courage to venture. The town never gave a second thought to the unassuming girl in the woods; but little did the town realize that her tiny cottage had the best view of the ocean, that it caught the gentle breeze while they were stifled by the heat that settled in the valley.  The ocean blew in new life through her windows every morning and took the day with the receding tide every night. Hers was a place of magic, where you could manifest love just by believing in it.  She had grown up here, with her Grams in exile from the town, but she always felt she was the lucky one to live in this special place. Grams had been gone for so long now that she often forgot what she looked like; having to pull out the worn and dog eared picture she carried around of them when she was little.

Under the moonlight is where she felt most alive, warmed by the lazy glow of the moon. Many people embrace the light to find their strength, but for her it was always hidden in the dark that she found hers. She tended her moon garden, it was her place to escape to and think and reflect. Tonight she would be thinking about Sebastian leaving, how much harder it was this time. She started cutting back the Sea Thrift, Bellflower and moonflower,  breathing in the deep scent of night blooming jasmine thinking how badly her heart was hurting this time. Heart ache is such a weird word as it really does feel like a physical pain, the stab of each memory taking your breath away, sometimes bringing you too your knees. The evening primrose was just starting to bloom and the dragon flower coming up; it was always so magical here for her under the moonlight in her garden. She felt most alive, often just lying on the moist earth absorbing all of the energy of the plants around her. This was where she came to think, meditate with the help of the plants and trees she cultivated with such care. She loved being surrounded by the pine, willow, alder and ash trees; they were an array of differences that together were perfect.

 

(I hope you enjoyed a glimpse into my new short story…until we meet again)….Love and Light

Note: this material is copyrighted and the property of Julie Mathison, no one has permission to take, borrow, copy or paste this anywhere on the web, in their own blog or to pass of as their own writing….21SEP2015

The girl I used to be…

mirror

I couldn’t breathe and woke up startled, I sat up and came face to face with…The girl I used to be. She looks like me, I reach out, she feels like me, smells like me, but she is laughing, she is happy for she was the girl I used to be. She pulls me up telling me to get up get dressed there is so much to see and do. But I just pull the covers over my head and tell her to go away, say that I am not that girl anymore. She is the girl I used to be though so she is loud, funny and coaxes me to get out of bed. She tells me we can do anything we want, explore, go to the beach, wine tasting, antique shopping. The girl I used to be is friendly, outgoing and loves to meet people, lives and breathes laughter. I am sad I tell her, I don’t know how to laugh anymore. I don’t know who she is anymore, I tell her she is a stranger to me. She explains to me, this girl I used to be, that my friends miss me, they want to hear my quirky stories, to bring my useless facts, and to hear my boisterous laughter over the crowd; they want the girl I used to be, but I say, I am the girl I am now. Grief, broken hearts they change you I scream, I am not you anymore. She follows me into the shower and sits on the toilet as I try to ignore her mindless chatter.  She is unrelenting, the girl I used to be, following me, chattering on about all of the things I am missing out on. The world, fall is in full bloom, good wine, good beer, new friends, old friends, new love, infatuation, listening to the ocean, playing Frisbee with my dog, and most important laughter. I try to ignore her, drink my coffee and read my magazines in peace but alas she is the girl I used to be so she just sits on the couch sighing with her arms crossed and pouts. She wins, this girl I used to be, and I try to make a deal with her, bargain my day, my time. I get up and get dressed and think about the girl I am now. I am empathetic, compassionate, I spend more time internally than externally, I watch, I feel, I listen, I compromise, I leave dirty dishes in the sink, I forget to vacuum, to dust, and I write. I look for her, this girl I used to be, I go from room to room, looking, perplexed when I find her as I reach out, startled as my hand hits the glass…

 

 

Never Forgotten…

I wanted to finally share on here the Eulogy and Obituary I wrote for my dad, It has taken me a few months to be able to open them again and read them, and to finally put up his pictures in my house. I still wake up feeling like its not real, that he can’t really be gone. I hope he was proud of me, and that I can carry on the legacy he left behind….

EULOGY

I remember once when I was little, I was crying to my dad, he said Julie come back to me when you’re not emotional and talk rationally. I remember crying but I’m a girl, I’m emotional and I don’t even know what rational means.  I laugh about this story as an adult because that was my dad. He was brilliant, logical and theoretical but when it came to me also impatient; my mom always told me I was just like my dad and in truth I am my father’s daughter. I am a scientist to his engineer, I think like him, I have his logical mind, his intensity, his need for structure and also his impatience; but I was also blessed with his curiosity, his tenacity, and love of learning, always needing to know why and how things worked. He often loved to remind me that as an engineer he created what I just studied, and as usual he was right.

My dad loved camping, mostly he loved his Drifting Sams RV group, and going to Quartzside every year.  Camping was truly his other love next to my mom. Growing up he took us every year for our annual family vacation, though in those days it was tents and a camper shell, not the Glamorous 5th wheels he has owned with my mom. He loved taking us outdoors when we were little, to watch meteor showers with his telescope, my brother’s dirt bike riding, flying model airplanes, and to Indian guides. I beat him at cards, even at 5, so he stopped playing with me, he was a sore loser.

My Dad was a good man, he treated people fairly, he was the first to step up, offer help, money and support to anybody in need.  He taught me to never pass a hungry person with an offer to feed them. He gave my friend a car once, it was called the pay it forward car…that was just the kind of human he was.  He was a devoted husband to my mom, a dedicated father and he was the hardest working man I ever knew. He taught me so much. He was fair, honest and had such integrity. He loved his family, the Mathison clan is a strong one, and we are forged by the same mold. We all have the stubbornness, dry witty sense of humor, love of debating and devotion to our family. My dad will be so greatly missed by so many, especially by my mom, the love of his life for 48 years. I look out at this sea of faces and think that my dad did not even begin to know or understand how loved he was, how huge of an impact he had made on so many. He is now a part of the great energy among the cosmos that will forever be a piece of all of us, as one can never be truly lost or forgotten as long as they are loved and remembered in our hearts. There will be those days that we will remember and miss him, cry and scream at the universe for what it has taken away from us. It is this that will allow us to grieve for him bit by bit for we must mourn and go on…life will insist…I loved him, my dad, I will carry him with me always, I will miss him forever…

tree_6

 OBITUARY

Bennett James Mathison was born March 31, 1946 in Whittier CA to Kenneth and Lucille Mathison. A resident of Bakersfield CA, Ben passed away suddenly in his home of a heart attack on Thursday August 6, 2015 he was 69 years old. He is survived by his loving wife of 48 years, Martha, one daughter Julie and two sons Mike and Mark and his four loving canine companions Cheyenne, Skye, Lady and Angel.

Ben attended Don Bosco Technical Institute and graduated cum laude from California Polytechnic University, Pomona with a Bachelor of Science degree in Electrical Engineering. He started his own independent consulting company Medcomm/Micro-Log in 1988, and also worked as a Chief Engineering consultant at ProSoft Technologies. Ben was an engineer to the core; he was driven, dedicated and tenacious. His favorite saying was “Scientist study what is, Engineers create what has never been” by Theodore Von Karman.

Ben loved camping and fishing with his wife in his 5th Wheel RV with their Roaming Sam Group. He was a devoted husband and dedicated father, and always the first to offer a helping hand. He enjoyed astronomy, his telescope and was an active member of the NRA. He will be fondly remembered by many for his witty sense of humor and love of debating, along with his boisterous laughter. Ben will be forever missed by many, he is now part of the great energy among the cosmos that will forever be a part of all of us as one can never truly be lost or forgotten as long as they are loved and remembered in our hearts.