Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Singing the same tune..

Day 5 of being sick. Not up to writing stories for the blog, been reading other blogs and finished reading a book. I've been grieving pretty hard this past week, maybe it's because I'm ill and feel weak. I read a couple of pages of one of Pam's journals yesterday, after mum mentioned that she wouldn't mind taking a look at them. I didn't advise it. It was painful to read as usual, tears left me exhausted but then I felt a sense of calm after the storm. Later in the evening I read the same pages to Ron, he was reassuring saying that Pam's writing about her difficulties with me was positive. That she was individuating. I wonder if you could describe her death as individuating?

Ron said she sounds so like me. We were very similar women. Often I would call her or she me and we'd both been thinking the same thing or had bought the same clothes or had the same kind of dream. Our sister Angie says we had a special bond because we were so alike.  It feels like part of me has died. I'm glad I've got her journals even though they are so upsetting to read. I said maybe I shouldn't be reading them and Ron replied maybe you are meant to. Maybe I am. Maybe in time they can be my guide? To remind me of the path that we were on together. And perhaps I can let it keep me on track even though I'm on that path alone now.

These lines from Rumi seem appropriate...

Friend, I've shrunk to a hair trying to say your story.
Would you tell mine?
I've made up so many love stories.
Now I feel fictional.
Tell me!
The truth is, you are speaking, not me.
I am Sinai, and you are Moses walking there.
This poetry is an echo of what you say.


  1. I wish you speedy health. Thank you for your courage and honesty.

    Sarah Allen
    (my creative writing blog)

  2. Hello Sarah... thanks for that..

    best wishes..

  3. You know . . . I wondered too, as I read what you wrote. But when I got to Rumi's line Would you tell mine? I thought maybe you're supposed to tell Pam.

    When I wrote the snowstorm piece about my sister, it was the first time I had "gone inside" to feel her and our bond. It occurs to me now that it is partly because of what you're doing that I wanted to do it, but it was unconscious. Thank you.

    Feel better.

  4. I'm sorry that you're not well. What you are doing for your sister is a wonderful tribute, wherever she is she must be immensely proud.
    Thanks for visiting me and my blog. xxx

  5. Jane,
    I believe if you came into posession of the journals, then you are meant to have them.

    Sorry you are sick and grieving.

    Love to you,


  6. Ruth thanks..and for telling me that the snowstorm piece was partly inspired was stunning.

  7. Vintage Vixen thanks very much for this comment.. glad I spotted you in the blogosphere..

  8. SB thanks... great to have your comment! I'm going to see the doc today so here's hoping. And I am glad you said that about Pam's journals!


  9. Hi Jane
    Just a note to say I've been and what a tender privilege it's been. Your journal to Pam (is it okay for me to call it that?) is deeply honoring of her and of your relationship. Thank you. And thank you for visiting my blog this weekend, and for your comment there. Love, Claire

  10. Claire, so nice of you to leave a comment. We are in the same boat aren't we? It means a lot to me to have any gesture of support.. like this. As you probably know... Last night my other sister sent me some news footage of the crash and I just went numb and couldn't move. I like your words a tender privilege.. love to you..