Gardening is hard work as is maintaining, cherishing relationships.
It is a great analogy and fits with the idea of anthropological study of my husband through the eyes of his culture.
We are looking at cherishing our relationships and cultivating love. Since I am visiting here, on CD, and it has helped me so tremendously, I will share how I feel about my newfound sisters and friends who have walked similar paths as I.
But first......
the following, a true story
The rains came and held steady over the island,
forty days and forty nights of continuous rain.
The ground, soaked by this slow, steady onslaught, began to move.
Mud and boulders came down from the mountains.
The way water moved downhill
from above our little house changed,
always a deep concern when living
under the shadow of a mountain.
Riverlets and mini waterfalls appeared
The stream below, swelled.
On the 39th night
a rumbling cacophony sounded through the darkness
boulders let loose from the bed up the mountain
and charged downstream thundering on their journey.
A deafening sound.
The 40th day,the rain let up a bit
we ventured out running errands.
The cell phone rang.
"If you are home, get out, if you are not, do not come home."
The rain started to pelt the car as we drove.
An ominous symphony of patter
and metronome of windshield wipers
stretched on, as we silently made our way.
A fire engine blocked the entrance to our road,
"You cannot go up there"
They said.
We parked our car.
We hurried up the road.
The rain slowed to a drizzle.
Making our way up,up
the steep road had become a river of
debris and rocks
hitting our feet and ankles.
I saw light pouring through
an area usually shadowed
in the face of the mountain.
I knew something was terribly wrong.
The light of the sun should not have been there.
We left the raging river atop the road to hike sideways up the hill
Our house was covered on the mountainside of it
up to the windowsills, with dirt.
We walked around to the other side
water poured underneath our home
cascading over the hill.
To our horror
two cars were buried
walking down the driveway atop six feet
of wet, freshly laid earth,
we peered up
to the source of the oddly appearing light
where none could be seen before.
300 feet up
the mountain we had so carefully planted
10 long years of work, gone.
In a flash, a torrent of water had swept away
banana trees, decades old avocado trees,
ti leaf,
gone.
Gone.
In its place,
an empty chasm,
a gorge 300 feet long
30 feet wide
20 feet deep.
Stretching across the road
making its way
to the stream below.
Years and years
of clearing
and planting.
Gone in an instant.
Gone.
Gone.
I write of this here, because I am remembering and comparing this incident in our lives, to the catastrophe of having things go very, very wrong with our children. The years of cultivating love, the time we put in to our children, the loving effort. The great feeling of loss when we realize that there is nothing to be done about the paths our adult children take.
Who can stop the rain?
And so we struggle and try, and try to help our children, then we realize, there is nothing we can do.
Like the water flowing down a mountain, it will find its way to the stream below, and cause devastation in its path.
I am thankful the good Lord saved our home. It could have been much, much worse.
The phone rang, "We heard about what happened, do you folks need help?" It was my paddling friend. Shakily, I said "Yes, thank you, bring shovels, and a wheelbarrow if you have."
Friends came up and shoveled and shoveled and shoveled away at a mountain of dirt. Another friend called his brother, who I do not even know, and offered his little bobcat. That man worked 8 long hours, heaving away yards and yards of soil from our driveway and road, so there was clear passage.
More and more people showed up to offer help, some we did not even know.
This is you, my dear CD friends. Clearing the rubble from my heart and mind, helping me to see there is a way to pick up the pieces from this great loss we all suffer with our d cs. Helping me to clear the way towards rebuilding. Towards setting right what had gone so terribly wrong these many years, the turmoil of it, the constancy of the pelting rains of addictive behavior, in my very household. The resulting flash flood of emotion and breakdown. The deep chasm of loss and grief.
Gone.
Gone with my d cs, as I have built up the strength of acceptance through coming here, posting and writing and sharing and daring to dream of peace.
Though my children are out there. Gone.
There is.....peace.
We have recovered from that terrible event so many years ago.
I am recovering from my long years of enabling, desperately trying to help what could not have been helped.
For who can stop the rain?
So, before I can continue to write anything more on this subject,
I must tell you, my sisters, my friends, how much I cherish our relationship,
that through these months
I have cultivated a deep love and affection for you.
How truly amazing and magnificent and marvelous to write this
to people I have never seen before.
Yet, I
have seen you through your writing.
The honesty, the pain, the searching, the finding, the helping of others find their way.
The amazing intelligence and wit,
the tragedy, the humor, the triumph.
I am humbled, and blessed.
The incredible meaning of it all.
With heart felt love and aloha
I thank you.
Mahalo, mahalo,
mahalo.