Butterflies
Aug. 17th, 2006 07:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
guywithmonstersGrowing up we called my Mom's Mom "Nanny" and her Dad "Poppy". Poppy passed when I was about 7 or 8 (?) and I don't remember if I went to the funeral or anything. From my kid perspective he simply wasn't around anymore - like he was just at work when ever I was at their house. Nanny missed him in the quiet ways which seem so odd to our generation - his things were left where they were or gathered in almost shrine like clusters. She went on with life as if he would be home any minute.
The following summer a butterfly followed her about in her garden. It accompanied her as she tended the snapdragons and bonfires that always lined the walk. She noted it and finished her chores. The same thing happened the next day and the next day. After a few days, Nanny was convinced it was Poppy. She spoke to him and then the butterfly flew away. She maintained it was his way of letting her know he was OK.
As a kid I was enthralled by this story. I tend to think it's what sparked my love of butterflies. When I see a butterfly I remember Nanny and Poppy. I've been trying to process Lisa's death for over a year. She's the first of my friend's to die "naturally" and it's been hard for me to get my mind around it. I think the fact that there was no viewing or funeral sort of left me without a way to say good bye.
I'm starting on something that will help me say "good bye" in a way that doesn't feel final but let's me get past her passing, so to speak. I'm working on butterflies. Like most creative things that are too personal they will either rock or be overly sentimental. Either way I'm Ok because these are for me. I'm always more about the process but in this case it really just is the process itself that matters.
The following summer a butterfly followed her about in her garden. It accompanied her as she tended the snapdragons and bonfires that always lined the walk. She noted it and finished her chores. The same thing happened the next day and the next day. After a few days, Nanny was convinced it was Poppy. She spoke to him and then the butterfly flew away. She maintained it was his way of letting her know he was OK.
As a kid I was enthralled by this story. I tend to think it's what sparked my love of butterflies. When I see a butterfly I remember Nanny and Poppy. I've been trying to process Lisa's death for over a year. She's the first of my friend's to die "naturally" and it's been hard for me to get my mind around it. I think the fact that there was no viewing or funeral sort of left me without a way to say good bye.
I'm starting on something that will help me say "good bye" in a way that doesn't feel final but let's me get past her passing, so to speak. I'm working on butterflies. Like most creative things that are too personal they will either rock or be overly sentimental. Either way I'm Ok because these are for me. I'm always more about the process but in this case it really just is the process itself that matters.
