DECEMBER 2020
Upon updating Leah's memoriam blog, these words in bold appeared:
'Welcome back, Leah Elizabeth Oeltjen!'
If only..
2020 has been a terrible year for all and grieving in isolation has, I won't sugar coat it-been hell.
On 30 December 2018, Leah left this world and I wonder what she would have to say about the state of it today-lots I am sure- what I wouldn't give to hear her thoughts.
Though my heart and head are filled with Leah, I'm still finding it too painful to shape my feelings into sentences here that would make any kind of 'sense' to anyone.
I do know you all have memories of Leah and, since any type (even local) of memorial ceremony is now not an option because of lockdown (and for friends beyond), I invite you, if so inclined, to leave words on Leah's memoriam here, or send me a few words, or look up at the sky, or listen to the birds, or lean on a tree, or light a candle -to hold Leah close on 30 December, 2020.
I will leave you with words from Bob Dylan, who Leah loved...
"I'll Remember You"
I'll remember you
When I've forgotten all the rest
You to me were true
You to me were the best
When there is no more
You cut to the core
Quicker than anyone I knew
When I'm all alone
In the great unknown
I'll remember you.
I'll remember you
At the end of the trail
I had so much left to do
I had so little time to fail
There's some people that
You don't forget
Even though you've only seen'm
One time or two
When the roses fade
And I'm in the shade
I'll remember you.
Didn't I, didn't I try to love you ?
Didn't I, didn't I try to care ?
Didn't I sleep, didn't I weep beside you
With the rain blowing in your hair.
I'll remember you
When the wind blows through the piney wood
It was you who came right through
It was you who understood
Though I'd never say
That I done it the way
That you'd have liked me to
In the end
My dear sweet friend
I'll remember you.
Jan
Upon updating Leah's memoriam blog, these words in bold appeared:
'Welcome back, Leah Elizabeth Oeltjen!'
If only..
2020 has been a terrible year for all and grieving in isolation has, I won't sugar coat it-been hell.
On 30 December 2018, Leah left this world and I wonder what she would have to say about the state of it today-lots I am sure- what I wouldn't give to hear her thoughts.
Though my heart and head are filled with Leah, I'm still finding it too painful to shape my feelings into sentences here that would make any kind of 'sense' to anyone.
I do know you all have memories of Leah and, since any type (even local) of memorial ceremony is now not an option because of lockdown (and for friends beyond), I invite you, if so inclined, to leave words on Leah's memoriam here, or send me a few words, or look up at the sky, or listen to the birds, or lean on a tree, or light a candle -to hold Leah close on 30 December, 2020.
I will leave you with words from Bob Dylan, who Leah loved...
"I'll Remember You"
I'll remember you
When I've forgotten all the rest
You to me were true
You to me were the best
When there is no more
You cut to the core
Quicker than anyone I knew
When I'm all alone
In the great unknown
I'll remember you.
I'll remember you
At the end of the trail
I had so much left to do
I had so little time to fail
There's some people that
You don't forget
Even though you've only seen'm
One time or two
When the roses fade
And I'm in the shade
I'll remember you.
Didn't I, didn't I try to love you ?
Didn't I, didn't I try to care ?
Didn't I sleep, didn't I weep beside you
With the rain blowing in your hair.
I'll remember you
When the wind blows through the piney wood
It was you who came right through
It was you who understood
Though I'd never say
That I done it the way
That you'd have liked me to
In the end
My dear sweet friend
I'll remember you.
Jan
DECEMBER 2019
To Leahs' (and my) Friends and Family from near and far.
This is not easy to write.
Sorrow is hell and complex and excruciatingly painful at it's very least and, to top it off, is isolating.
Before Leah's death, being on the other end of someone else's grief, I would try to avoid them as, selfishly, I did not know what to say or do. It was about me, rather then the person in pain, the person needing comfort and understanding.
Now I realize that what to say does not matter in the least - just being 'with' someone, and letting that person know you are thinking of them, acknowledging their deep sorrow and loss, is a comfort.
Right 'after', when I ran to Shetland for 4 months I was too afraid. I needed to be alone, to be raw. Instead I was an invisible coward, painting when the pain was unbearable. I still do that-often. Now that I am back, with constants in the daily ritual of walking and water and birds and the natural world-all held dear by Leah, I am with her. (That's not to say this pain is any less piercing or frequent, or that I have no choice but to bear up and exist,)
Because of this fear of pain, I have been putting off having a memorial for Leah and have been selfish in doing so. Leah's life was significant. It mattered. It matters. It will be shared and, I hate this over-used word but can think of no other-it will be celebrated. It will be carried on.
You are invited to join me in rejoicing Leah's life and also for a 'send off'.
There will be two time frames and for those that live close, I hope you can attend. I do understand if you can't and I am sure you will send out your thoughts to Leah.
For those far away who meant so very much to Leah, I know you have her in your hearts and that you will be sending your love her way. Please know I think of you always and with deep gratitude.
For my own friends from far away -my time with you has helped get me through, and I hope you will send kind thoughts Leah's way.
For those able to stop by, here is the timeline:
We will meet at Grimsby Beach for a a 'send off' on Friday, 27th December between 4:30 / 5 pm.
Between 6:30-8PM there will be a gathering at my place (391 Park Rd North, Grimsby.)
With sincere appreciation,
Leah's mom
To Leahs' (and my) Friends and Family from near and far.
This is not easy to write.
Sorrow is hell and complex and excruciatingly painful at it's very least and, to top it off, is isolating.
Before Leah's death, being on the other end of someone else's grief, I would try to avoid them as, selfishly, I did not know what to say or do. It was about me, rather then the person in pain, the person needing comfort and understanding.
Now I realize that what to say does not matter in the least - just being 'with' someone, and letting that person know you are thinking of them, acknowledging their deep sorrow and loss, is a comfort.
Right 'after', when I ran to Shetland for 4 months I was too afraid. I needed to be alone, to be raw. Instead I was an invisible coward, painting when the pain was unbearable. I still do that-often. Now that I am back, with constants in the daily ritual of walking and water and birds and the natural world-all held dear by Leah, I am with her. (That's not to say this pain is any less piercing or frequent, or that I have no choice but to bear up and exist,)
Because of this fear of pain, I have been putting off having a memorial for Leah and have been selfish in doing so. Leah's life was significant. It mattered. It matters. It will be shared and, I hate this over-used word but can think of no other-it will be celebrated. It will be carried on.
You are invited to join me in rejoicing Leah's life and also for a 'send off'.
There will be two time frames and for those that live close, I hope you can attend. I do understand if you can't and I am sure you will send out your thoughts to Leah.
For those far away who meant so very much to Leah, I know you have her in your hearts and that you will be sending your love her way. Please know I think of you always and with deep gratitude.
For my own friends from far away -my time with you has helped get me through, and I hope you will send kind thoughts Leah's way.
For those able to stop by, here is the timeline:
We will meet at Grimsby Beach for a a 'send off' on Friday, 27th December between 4:30 / 5 pm.
Between 6:30-8PM there will be a gathering at my place (391 Park Rd North, Grimsby.)
With sincere appreciation,
Leah's mom