Laundry & Brighton

Grief is a sneaky thing.  On Sunday, while gathering laundry, Popo's absence suddenly made it hard to breathe.  That sadness again, the colour of night.

Popo had someone help with the laundry.  But each of us was responsible for ironing our own clothes.  How very much I hated/hate ironing!  There were too many pleats on the convent uniform, and the white blouses creased too easily.  Often the iron also felt heavy on 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 year old hands.  It was only after I met Jon, that I learnt how to use the ironing board to flatten and lay a garment.  Jon taught me.  He said to think of the board as a torso.

I know my grandmother left in the kindest of ways.  She also left surrounded by so much love.  I try to hold on to these thoughts.  

But Grief is sly.  I'm walking Bruno and suddenly I feel an irrational fear, and sadness.

I tell Summie I need some time alone to grieve.  I can't do jet-setting Mommy-dom, when my heart is punctured.

Mom will be right back to feed you dinner, I promised her.

I just need to get on a train. 

Go someplace I've never been.

Wander around, and not be afraid to get lost.

Look at things from a different perspective.  

(Gosh- I see that while the king was in his counting house, counting out his money; the queen was in her parlour, eating bread and honey… and then he had the grand idea to build, Indian, by the sea!)

We walk on, the ocean right around the block..

Brighton is friendly, reminding me a little of the Bay Area, sans Bridge and the energy of the Pacific.

While lunching at the vintage-style Metrodeco Tea Room (38 Upper St James Street), the owner stopped by three times to comment on how incredibly behaved Bruno was.

When she said goodbye, she added, I should send my dogs to live with you!

Her words lifted me for a precious moment.  I was suddenly reminded of what I can do, what I love to do, no matter the magnitude of my loss.

I know how to live with a dog and take very good care of him, because we grew up with dogs.  

And, each other.

(photo credit-  A. Huang, with all my cousins, pier-side, sending Popo off to sea)

"When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing-

Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king!"

Popo taught me, taught us, so much.