Sitting in the dentist's chair this morning, looking back at the mountains I realized that it's quite likely that Michael sat in the same chair..this was the first dental clinic I brought the kids to. Driving through town passing the condo's he had the paperwork for on the morning he died, I look away. How I wish we could just wake up somewhere else. We are free to move of course, but our granddaughter is here and we are her only link to her Daddy here.
I'm losing the grip I've had on my emotions for so long. That may be a bit of a stretch..it hasn't be "so long", and I haven't really had a "grip", but I've coped. I'm tired of doing all the things I've done this year to get by, tired of walking, reading about suicide and suicide survivors, tired of pretending.....am I tired of hurting? The place of Grief is a very difficult place to be but I don't want to be anywhere else. That would invalidate Michael leaving this world at his choosing. Do I wallow in grief? Is grief self-indulgent? I don't think so. Answering the second question first I would say, grief is..it just is what it is and it's relative to the person affected. In regard to the first, wallowing sounds like a fun thing to do and there isn't anything fun about grieving..so drowning, sinking, might be better terms to use.
I grew up with a grandmother who had a strong Scots-Presbyterian background..and some of it had rubbed off on her. Part of that belief seemed to be that it is/was a bit of a sin to be so self indulgent as to think about your own state so much. I guess that point has some value...and I must say note that I do understand that there a millions of people with far greater problems, worries than mine. Please understand that I write only about my journey. My journey, like my grief, is what it is. ...it's uncharted, unexpected, uncomfortable.
Michael's candle has been lit, I've turned on Turner Classic Movies and I've settled in for the duration of the day. It's 3:30. I want ....... what the heck do I want? I want another chance. I want to go back..way back. So so far back. My reprieve is here...I can hear his key in the door. I am thankful for every blessing I have in my life...and I have so many. But I think I'm broken...kind like Humpty Dumpty and all the king's horses and all the king's men....are just all the king's horses and all the king's men.
2 comments:
You are in my thoughts tonight.
My nonna's saying is: "My broken toe hurts more than your broken back." This never really made much sense to me until it materialized one day and I finally understood. It essentially means our suffering is always going to feel worse than someone else's because it's our own. It's within us, and it's in the deepest areas of our soul.
It's to still acknowledge and recognize that others too will feel pain, but what we feel on a cellular level is what will scream the loudest in our ears.
So, it's okay. It's not self-indulgent. There is no need for you to even consider the scale of others suffering and depreciate your own because your "broken big toe" is a hurt that is absolute and something you physically will feel.
I'm sure the pain will change over time. It'll ebb and flow like life always will and I think it's important to your healing to be able to hear it when it screams.
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