Archive for the 'grief' Category

Babies

What is it about holding a baby that makes you feel better when you’re coping with a loss?  Maybe it’s a circle of life type of thing.  Every person lost is someone’s loved one, and every baby born is someone’s little squish monster, love, cuddle bunny.

Ebb and flow.  Wax and wane.  Life and death.

Plus, aside from when they shit themselves, babies just kind of smell good.

Also, everything is new and wonderful in their eyes.  Your hair, your jewelry, you clothes, rocks, sticks, bugs.   They just want to grab hold of life and the world and shove it in their mouths and taste it, too.

There’s no fear in them.  They’re so new, and everything is new to them, and they haven’t the slightest clue how terrifying the world can be.  So they’re just little bundles of light and optimism.

It’s freaking magic and infectious, because when you’re holding them, you realize that they have a chance to not have all the fucked up shit you’ve had in your life in theirs.

Or maybe their drool is just a natural anti-depressant, heartbreak numbing supplement.

Either way, I think I need to do a lot of babysitting.

And please don’t misunderstand me.  I still don’t want my own.  I just want to borrow one that I can give back.

Hiking.

As part of coming back from my broken leg in March, I have joined a hiking group.  I found them on Meetup, and I’ve been out with the group about four times so far.   Two of those hikes have been pretty significant in terms of length and ascent.  So I’ve been getting a good workout, and every time I go out, I feel a little stronger, which is great.   I feel like my endurance is building, and I’m getting back into shape.

And then the thing that shall not be mentioned happened.   As with any sort of extreme grief, I have become somewhat detached, and closed off from the world.  I’ve wanted to stay inside, stay quiet, stay indoors.  At a certain point, though, going outside is just the thing for a broken heart.

So, I was back at it yesterday, hiking more than 8 miles.   It was good to go out.  It was good to get warn out.  It was raining a little bit, and I got a bit wet and muddy.   And I laughed a little bit, and got to talk to someone about Star Wars and Star Trek.  It was a good day for me.

And today, I want my buffer from the world back.  I don’t want to leave the house, and I don’t want to see anyone.

So, just like with the leg and the hiking, I am slowly making progress.  There are good days.  There are bad days.  There are good moments.  There are bad moments.  There are moments when I think about her, and I just can’t stand how much it hurts to think that she was taken away, and there are moments when I think about her, and it makes me smile.   And sometimes even laugh.

There are moments on the trail when I feel like I can’t take another step, and breathing is hard.  There are moments where I am breathing deeply, and every step feels like I’m conquering something.   And there are moments on the trail when I am skipping with my arms outstretched, because I feel like I’m flying.

I just wish she could do it with me, is all.

 

Coping.

One of the hardest things about going through the grieving process, for me, is coping with other people’s reactions to my grief.   Everywhere I turn, it seems, there are people trying to hand me their own grief and issues.  Or just expecting me to get on with getting on.

I can’t carry that for you.   Not right now.   Probably not ever.

I can’t take on what you need right now.   I can’t be what you need me to be in this situation.  I’m struggling just to keep afloat myself.   Getting out of bed is herculean.   My legs feel as if they are 100 pounds each, and walking is a chore.   My brain keeps crashing, or rebooting without warning.   Answering questions is excruciating, in particular any questions about anything having to do with making a decision or planning anything.  I will do my best to be as invisible as possible, and to not speak up, and not volunteer.   And I’m lazy and avoiding the hell out of everything right now.  I’m struggling with trying to have patience.   Crowds are weird.   Corners are lovely.   Mostly, simple video games are addictive, soothing, and consuming.

And Catholic churches are the best place to cry.

The thing I learned this week, though, is that all those people who are trying to hand me their “stuff” and wanting me to carry it for them.  All those people that want to somehow make all of this about them, the people who seem to not understand that I need time, that I need space, that I need a little help; all that has nothing to do with me.  I can’t take it personally.   Anyone who has expectations of me that seem too high or who seems to be oblivious to what I’m going through and what it means, that’s just their “stuff”.   It’s not even any of my business.

I just have to do what I have to do to get through this, and people will get along without my help, if I can’t give it.  They’ll carry their own grief or fear of grief or whatever it is, and we’ll all get on in our own time.

I really do miss her, and I wish she were still here with us.  The world is less fun, less magic without her.

I’m On An Airplane

Okay, so it’s not quite so cool as being on a boat, but I’m in the air somewhere over southern Minnesota/South Dakota.  And I’m on the internet.   So, technology is sweet.  I like living in the future.

I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, so having to travel to  New York for work wasn’t something I was really looking forward to.   I had to give a bunch of presentations and meet with a bunch of people I had never met before.   That’s not necessarily my strongest suit, but from what I was told, I killed it.   I hope I did.  I also hope that I don’t have to do that again any time soon.  Work trips are exhausting.   I was exhausted before I left California.

But my trip wasn’t all bad.  I got to spend some time with a friend who I had been missing quite a bit.  I like hanging out with him because I feel like we learn from one another.  Also, I feel like every time we see each other, we understand each other better.   He’s an important friend to me.

So being on this flight is a little bit bittersweet.  I am so looking forward to getting home and sleeping in my own bed, and showering in my own shower, and spending some time with Mr. Darcy.   But I’m going to miss my friend.

However, I’ve realized that missing someone isn’t such a bad thing.  It means that you have someone who you share good memories with.  There’s someone who has mad you happy, and that you maybe even have loved.

Applicable to my life in more ways than just one right now.

Just sayin’.


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On the ferry with a tree in a bag. #bonsai #treelife #huggingtrees #hippie #sfbayferry

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