Sunday, June 27
nine to one
I read somewhere that losing a child is nine parts unspeakable and one part gift. I guess the gift is the part of the parent that grows as it couldn't in any other way. Then there are the nine parts that are too awful for words, when you have only screams and tears and panic and isolation.
Saturday, June 12
Watching the Sky
What is it that makes me run outside to see a big storm coming? Why do I crave to see it? I search for the darkest clouds and see the trees all around, flowing like river grasses, submitted to the wind. It's not the risk of it, because I'm not looking at that. Maybe it's the rarity of it. It's not too often, relatively speaking, that we get to see trees sway like that or see dark, heavy clouds clipping by on a low ceiling. Today I was thinking tornado.
It's all quiet now; it was just a few long bursts of wind, unusual though, no lightning and only a few spatters of rain. But the wind! The sound of it in the trees with a great deep gust; the rise and fall- how do you describe it? Up to a swell, a wave, and then settling to quiet. Who knows which storm will be my last? Who knows? Why would I want to miss a spectacle so easily seen from the front row?
Maybe it's the sheer power of it, the energy of it that pulls me in. Maybe it's the way my senses are all swept up in it. I stood out in the driveway a little while ago, looking up and turning around in all directions, breathing deeply. I thought I could smell some far away place blowing in on the wind. I closed my eyes. Then it occurred to me that I must look like a total nut case to my neighbor across the street. I came back in.
Maybe the enormity of what has happened in my life is like the spectacle of a storm; Sometimes I can stand outside myself with a curiosity and watch the way grief happens. It's strange how the brain rewires around loss. I have bizarre lapses of recent memory and also return of long-lost memories. I have days of fatigue and days of renewed energy. Days of pessimism and days of vision. There is constant heartache and then laughter too, at times. I feel like I am taking more of the everyday memory pangs in stride. There are longer stretches of time when losing David is not foremost in my mind. I am working through it.
There's a re-centering coming over me on a much deeper level than I had hoped for.
I ask for prayer in this: that I practice a consciousness of my motivations, and also that I will be gentle and patient with myself.
xxoo
It's all quiet now; it was just a few long bursts of wind, unusual though, no lightning and only a few spatters of rain. But the wind! The sound of it in the trees with a great deep gust; the rise and fall- how do you describe it? Up to a swell, a wave, and then settling to quiet. Who knows which storm will be my last? Who knows? Why would I want to miss a spectacle so easily seen from the front row?
Maybe it's the sheer power of it, the energy of it that pulls me in. Maybe it's the way my senses are all swept up in it. I stood out in the driveway a little while ago, looking up and turning around in all directions, breathing deeply. I thought I could smell some far away place blowing in on the wind. I closed my eyes. Then it occurred to me that I must look like a total nut case to my neighbor across the street. I came back in.
Maybe the enormity of what has happened in my life is like the spectacle of a storm; Sometimes I can stand outside myself with a curiosity and watch the way grief happens. It's strange how the brain rewires around loss. I have bizarre lapses of recent memory and also return of long-lost memories. I have days of fatigue and days of renewed energy. Days of pessimism and days of vision. There is constant heartache and then laughter too, at times. I feel like I am taking more of the everyday memory pangs in stride. There are longer stretches of time when losing David is not foremost in my mind. I am working through it.
There's a re-centering coming over me on a much deeper level than I had hoped for.
I ask for prayer in this: that I practice a consciousness of my motivations, and also that I will be gentle and patient with myself.
xxoo
Monday, June 7
Breaking to heal
You know how sometimes we break bones or tear skin and for whatever reason we don't heal properly and the doctor has to re-break the bone or cut the skin again to set things right? I'm starting to feel like this - my heart is broken clean-through, I am cut deeply; old hidden wounds are raw and exposed. I'm ready to be set right again and heal, stronger than before.
xxoo
xxoo
Wednesday, June 2
Phantoms
Well, I hadn't been angry for a while. It had been building up, I guess. I became more annoyed as today went on. Being tired didn't help; the last two nights have been short.
I was pretty ticked before leaving school, then at home I quickly got pissed with Ray, the IRS, and the US Postal Service- all in less than 15 minutes. I started thinking "Wow, what's wrong with me? Why am I so grouchy? Why do I feel so angry?" I was feeling guilt on top of my anger, pacing in my bedroom. Then I thought, "Wait one damn minute! Anyone could get pissed talking with the ex about money, dealing with any agency of the federal government let alone two, or working in a public school bureaucracy!" I let myself off the hook.
This was not common. Normally anxiety keeps me stuck in a mental loop once I've gotten upset. But this time I purposely let go of the guilt and I immediately I felt the anger dissipate, too. It was quite stunning, really. All it took was to intentionally walk away from that invisible judge who haunts me. It's like always being in the room with someone who's watching me perform my ordinary tasks, and I can feel his disapproval. Of course I recognize my judge is a creation of my imagination, or perhaps I inherited him. All I know is that I don't remember him ever not being there, and when I'm quiet I can hear the defense my mind offers up for my existence. I wonder how many other people silently tote around their predisposed judge who whispers incessantly, "guilty, guilty, guilty!"
I think it was important that I walked away from my phantom accuser today. It kinda feels like I called his bluff. Maybe if I do that enough he'll fade away.
I just reread this post and edited. 6/3/10
I was pretty ticked before leaving school, then at home I quickly got pissed with Ray, the IRS, and the US Postal Service- all in less than 15 minutes. I started thinking "Wow, what's wrong with me? Why am I so grouchy? Why do I feel so angry?" I was feeling guilt on top of my anger, pacing in my bedroom. Then I thought, "Wait one damn minute! Anyone could get pissed talking with the ex about money, dealing with any agency of the federal government let alone two, or working in a public school bureaucracy!" I let myself off the hook.
This was not common. Normally anxiety keeps me stuck in a mental loop once I've gotten upset. But this time I purposely let go of the guilt and I immediately I felt the anger dissipate, too. It was quite stunning, really. All it took was to intentionally walk away from that invisible judge who haunts me. It's like always being in the room with someone who's watching me perform my ordinary tasks, and I can feel his disapproval. Of course I recognize my judge is a creation of my imagination, or perhaps I inherited him. All I know is that I don't remember him ever not being there, and when I'm quiet I can hear the defense my mind offers up for my existence. I wonder how many other people silently tote around their predisposed judge who whispers incessantly, "guilty, guilty, guilty!"
I think it was important that I walked away from my phantom accuser today. It kinda feels like I called his bluff. Maybe if I do that enough he'll fade away.
I just reread this post and edited. 6/3/10
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