Let’s pretend it’s Sunday. I got kind of out of whack this holiday weekend. Apologies for the newsletter sliding in late. I was celebrating life. I think I told you all that I am working on a show about grief and love. Think one-woman-show-ish-kind-of-situation at a local venue. I have been working on it since the lockdown happened. I’m not sure when it will run here, but I will let you know.
Just sent this to my cousin who lost her mom a year ago. Told her to read it in a place where she could cry because it's gonna hurt but it is also going to help. Your words help. ❤️
I hope this might be of help. I needed to let your story simmer for a day, I had to prepare.
I know death, but I'm so afraid to know grief. Another form of grief preceded the passing of each of my parents, as, unlike that of your mother, they suffered a lengthy disruption of their health and the only question was when. And following, instead of grief, relief. Others, I've found their cold bodies, I've mourned in the company of others, and the aftermath was sleep-walking from rooms of confusion to rooms of despair. My self-treatment, a tonic of tears. A bout of crying seems to release the pressure of the weight of sadness. I know I can retreat to the final scene in "Field of Dreams" and the sorrow will fade. But I so hope I don't outlive my children, my grandsons, my wife. I can't fathom that grief.
Love and loss are so close to one another they can’t be untangled. There will always be love followed by loss. You’re right... no one wants to talk about it because of the sensations that follow them and no one can decide if that’s a fair or wise practice. I hope you can find the voices or signs you’re looking for as you navigate beyond this great beyond. This very real yet unreal place. You are very real and loved and needed. You are so very loved. ♥️ hugs to all who grieve in their own way right now. You are not alone.
Just sent this to my cousin who lost her mom a year ago. Told her to read it in a place where she could cry because it's gonna hurt but it is also going to help. Your words help. ❤️
I hope this might be of help. I needed to let your story simmer for a day, I had to prepare.
I know death, but I'm so afraid to know grief. Another form of grief preceded the passing of each of my parents, as, unlike that of your mother, they suffered a lengthy disruption of their health and the only question was when. And following, instead of grief, relief. Others, I've found their cold bodies, I've mourned in the company of others, and the aftermath was sleep-walking from rooms of confusion to rooms of despair. My self-treatment, a tonic of tears. A bout of crying seems to release the pressure of the weight of sadness. I know I can retreat to the final scene in "Field of Dreams" and the sorrow will fade. But I so hope I don't outlive my children, my grandsons, my wife. I can't fathom that grief.
Love and loss are so close to one another they can’t be untangled. There will always be love followed by loss. You’re right... no one wants to talk about it because of the sensations that follow them and no one can decide if that’s a fair or wise practice. I hope you can find the voices or signs you’re looking for as you navigate beyond this great beyond. This very real yet unreal place. You are very real and loved and needed. You are so very loved. ♥️ hugs to all who grieve in their own way right now. You are not alone.