Slowly, our family started to reconnect over fire and smores sweeping away the eggshells we have been walking on close to two years. It’s been the best vacation we have had in long time.
↑↑↑↑ Man, kids have it easy now. Lyrics and song via Youtube…
I looked up reflecting on what I just read. The phone rang and it was poor Lois from Democrat Whatever asking me about whether I am committed to voting all blue in November’s election. I replied, “As far as I know.” She very insistently asked me to be more specific and I told her that I didn’t want to. She gotta little huffy and rephrased her question slower. I replied a firm “NO.” You see, Lois is a stranger and I don’t have to discuss politics with her.
When I was a little girl, I lived with my dad for a short time in Denver. My dad needed to get away from the New Mexico environment so he could change his life for the better. I always had a bond with him and I liked it there although we were dirt poor.
There is a little post-trauma stress based on watching my oldest son go through an intense metamorphosis that is part mental illness, part finding an identity, part dismal political and environmental surroundings among other things. I try to help and then I suck at it because I just fall into what I know how to do: Nag! I am hoping my own growth eliminates this habit.
Without going into so many details about place, I want to share something heavy. A few days ago, someone said that the notion of grieving solely about our lost loved one misses the point that we experienced death. A death of what our lives were and what we had imagined them to be. In grief, we often focus on the missed person and not the death that occurs in ourselves. Within days of writing this, I lost my closest uncle too. Three weeks prior, we lost the youngest uncle in our family. 2018 has had a rough start for my family. Read more by clicking the link below
Grief is brave and I need to tap into that more. I know that grief doesn’t always have to just drag you down.
via Grief Ferocity
I don’t want this to sound like I think traditional grief and the stages don’t matter, because I wish that I could go through what most people get to. I resent the fact that I am unable to do it. I resent his disease because his actions make it impossible for me to grieve. I still struggle with separating my resentment towards the disease and him. I feel like shit writing that. Read more by clicking below
If you read The Three Griefs 2017, you will get a little understanding of what my last year looked like and what has compelled me to write. I received so much feedback and thoughtful response. My post actually helped others, which was an unexpected outcome helping me and hopefully them feel less alone. I also had more positive memories about my comadre just last night that didn’t illicit bitterness or anger. I moved forward. I went from why is this happening to what can I do about it. Powerful.
So if anyone reads this, I have a friend who told me about the custom of having a “year in black” to signify grief, so people around you are more gentle. I am still wondering how that works with grieving a living person. Nonetheless, I need my year in black and I would appreciate if this cruel world would allow me to have it in 2018. Read more below.