Filling The Holes


My youngest daughter came for a visit this past weekend. She came alone and stayed for two nights, both of which are firsts for her. We shared a great deal of laughter, tears, emotional upsets, new and old music, and lots of wonderful warm fuzzies. She is thirty years old, has three daughters and a stepdaughter, and sometimes works 70 hours in one week. So, this visit was extremely special and I miss her even more since she left.

She cried when she visited her grandmother, and was amazed at all of my doodling sketchbooks and mandalas. Saturday evening she actually suggested that we all color together. So we each chose a design and went to work. My oldest daughter was here, as well. We worked separately, but talked and commented while we played with all of my pens. And each of us created distinctly different styles and affects.

She had brought a trivia game called Mental Floss with her. After the coloring session, we played the game and finally dissolved into giggles and wise cracks which only prolonged the laughter and off-colored one liners. Sunday morning, before she left, we all signed our coloring endeavors and took them over to my Mother’s apartment and stuck them up on her refrigerator. My Mom loved it and then my daughter was gone. Back to her life and her family. Leaving a hole that no one else can fill.

Yesterday, I went on my poetry site and found a comment from her on an old post. Just two sentences that told me she was dealing with a similar hole that carries my name. Why is it that we can desire a thing so much, have that desire completely met, only to feel it even more strongly for having it fulfilled? From the moment she drove away, I have been flooded with the images of memories we created over those two days she was  here. And the desire to have her close again is even stronger than it was before she arrived.

I am busy filling up that hole with the sound of her voice as she sang along with music I had never heard before, but which brought new insight into my own reality. I hear her laughing and teasing as only she will do, close my eyes and see her grinning, or crying, because she is a softie in so many ways. And I think that I didn’t hug her enough or tell her how much she means to me and is a gift I cherish as no other. Yet, know that I did those things and that she knows them to be true.

We all have those spots in our existence, or we should have them. Holes that can’t ever really be filled because they are expectant and always waiting for more. They help us to know that we are living, breathing creatures filled with thoughts and feelings that no one else might ever know or feel. Marked off with a name, or a time, when we knew we were completely alive and in the moment. Holes that are noteworthy because they belong to us, to that distinct individual we are and are becoming.

Those holes are marks, footprints that tell of our passage on whatever path we travel. They form and make us who we are and tell us how we got to whatever place we truly live in. They need to be held close, celebrated in some fashion. Written down so they can be held in hands that might go empty in the future and need something real to grasp.

My daughter exists in my heart, but she also lives and breathes inside the pages of my journal as I carve those memories on paper and celebrate her existence and our relationship. She said, as she was leaving, that she would come back soon. I intend to hold her to that promise. But, in the interim, I will continue to fill that hole with her name on it.

Do you have those distinct types of holes in your life? How do you fill them, celebrate them, express them so that they remain a living, breathing reminder of who you really are and desire to be?

Alyssa's Mandala 10-10-09

Alyssa's Mandala 10-10-09


Mandala 10-10-09

Mandala 10-10-09


Sara's Mandala 10-10-09

Sara's Mandala 10-10-09

About 1sojournal

Loves words and language. Dances on paper to her own inner music. Loves to share and keeps several blogs to facilitate that. They can be found here:
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6 Responses to Filling The Holes

  1. Sleepyone says:

    Thanks Momma. I wish I was as good with words as you are. I am not so instead I will leave you with this. (only change son to kid or girl or something :P)

    It takes a lot to know what is love
    Its not the big things, but the little things
    That can mean enough
    A lot of prayers to get me through
    And there is never a day that passes by
    I dont think of you
    You were always there for me
    Pushing me and guiding me
    Always to succeed
    You showed me
    When I was young just how to grow
    You showed me
    Everything that I should know
    You showed me
    Just how to walk without your hands
    cause mom you always were
    The perfect fan
    God has been so good
    Blessing me with a family
    Who did all they could
    And Ive had many years of grace
    And it flatters me when I see a smile on your face
    I wanna thank you for what youve done
    In hopes I can give back to you
    And be the perfect son
    You showed me how to love
    You showed me how to care
    And you showed me that you would
    Always be there
    I wanna thank you for that time
    And Im proud to say youre mine
    cause mom you always were,
    Mom you always were
    Mom you always were,
    You know you always were
    cause mom you always were… the perfect fan
    I love you mom


  2. 1sojournal says:

    Hi Hon,

    this is great, but now I need an addie so I can hear it (I promise I’ll put my hearing aid in, lol). And by the way, you are just as good with words, just in a different way. What do you think all that music and all those songs you sing are really all about? I love it and the music you bring to my existence.

    Love yah,


  3. Sleepyone says:

    I would share the actual song with you. However I think it would ruin it. It’s the Back Street Boys adn it isnt as pretty or wonderful with their voices. I just love the words 😛


  4. 1sojournal says:

    Okay, I hear you and would probably agree. Thanks for the words, none the less, they still retain meaning.

    Love Yah,


  5. diddums says:

    The mandalas are beautiful. 🙂


  6. 1sojournal says:

    Thanks Diddums,

    I like them more each time I see them. They remind me of a very special time. And by the way, my youngest got called to a job thirty minutes from here, so came and visited (slept and yakked) for a few hours just this past week. And brought me yet another song that made me cry, but also comforted me immensely.



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