At Carpe Diem we are given a beautiful painting by Van Gogh where the artist spent his last years. Our host, Chèvrefeuille chose House of Auvers for our inspiration to write a haiku. It is an image that one can relate to in many ways. See more information at Carpe Diem – House (au Auvers)
Since the industrial revolution, so many “home visits” have been postponed until spring or summertime. In many parts here in the Montreal area and suburbs, that is mainly due to the weather and icy roads. I used to work for a steel company who gave their employees a 4-day weekend at Easter so many could drive down to Gaspé for instance, to visit their family; most of these families had moved here for work but their hearts were still back home.
village réanimé retrouvaille familiale cries des goélands
It’s been a while since I sense your presence and yet, that may be a good sign. You are finally reunited with the love of your love. I had a dream last night. Bette, my feline friend who is named after your nickname was playing hide-and-go-seek in your house. We were in your bedroom. You had been on some health food diet and you were clearing your closet. I was shocked to see such order! Well, we know that that was not a priority for you. And why should it, when you had more important things to do, like sit by the window, sipping your coffee and watch the birds by the river, pecking at the bird feeder. Or getting all dolled up with your designer outfits; applying Lancôme or Clinique to moisten your skin; a touch of ombre à paupière and a trace of eyeliner; before running out to go shopping, applying your favourite rouge à lèvre and la pièce de résitance...three sprays of Shalimar.
Whenever you visited your scent lingered for days and any clothes you gave me, laundry could not remove that faint scent of your eau de toilette…that trace of Colombe.
In my dream, Bette snuck behind the wall of your closet and when I followed, feeling like Alice in Wonderland, I found a slight opening and there was a narrow room with odd trinkets and old furniture. Bette had adopted a small filing cabinet. I had never seen this room. You were busy washing clothes, sorting the closet and your commode. It was as if I was not really there but you sort of knew I was there…It felt like I was watching a movie of you…there was a screen separating us, preventing us from touching, hugging.
When I awakened, I realized this was another little visit. And now you know why I named my feline friend, Bette. I’m so glad you met her.
my shawl breathes scents of Shalimar trace of you
my shawl breathes, reminiscence woven you and me
scents of Shalimar sweet scented sounds your laughter
trace of you faint trails of eau de toilette remind me of you
One expresses emotions in varied ways and for some it is spontaneous and simply who they are. Perhaps you are like me when you see someone you love and have not seen in a while, you run up to the person and hug them, kiss them on each cheek.
Overjoyed the morning I felt my son moving in my tummy…the basement of our new home had flooded and I could not hide my joy. Could not relate to the damage, the flood or any problem whatsoever for a human life did somersaults in MY tummy!!
Oh how I weep with joy when I see my child performing in a choir, when my son did a guitar solo and sang a Bob Dylan song, when they graduated both from high school and college; and even today when I see them smiling and teasing each other…the joy just takes too much place in my heart and so I weep.
Perhaps your emotions are too close to the surface and your heart swells so much you weep the moment a word hurts your feelings; perhaps it is anger that is too difficult to conceal and you shout, rage or cry again. Maybe you have always felt life dealt you a raw deal and everyone and everything you touch must be for your loss, like a child who stomps off angry because Mommy would not let him eat candy before dinner.
And then there are those who do not express emotions as easily and it eats at them, fester and makes them sick…they are not “at ease” hence it stirs “dis-ease”. The persons who cannot weep when they grieve, express their love when they long, show their joy when they are gripped with such a powerful love…yet to look at their body language, one cannot read the joy, happiness, rapture or sadness.
Sometimes I speak to a person who has gone through the most dreadful experiences in his past, heard such hurtful comments, witnessed such atrocities and yet I hear no emotion in the voice…flat, no affect whatsoever. Over time the dam may open slowly when a person feels safe…In this case, a person had to hide all emotion to survive. To give in to emotion may weaken him/her and so life goes on with explosive emotions inflating his/her soul…heart, like a ticking time bomb.
Emotions are not excluded to humans, and we can see that with animals that we love. It could be a horse you would groom for hours before riding, your dog you have walked, bathed like a baby and cuddled with a towel to keep him warm, a cat that leans in close to get a pet, a scratch but deep inside we know it is to be close to you…expressing their emotions in their loving and natural way.
My grandfather had rescued a golden mix a few years before he got sick. GrandPapa died later in his bed at his home; when the ambulance came to take his body, Princess followed the cot whimpering along the side and then went running in the basement howling so loudly. She did not come up for a whole week, so great was her grief.