I’ve already made my grieving more public than is seemly. I continue to mourn in writing as a heads up for those of you who may experience a similar circumstance. An unnecessary heads up, I admit. We all grieve differently. Also, we each face our grief differently at different times as we mourn. I feelContinue reading “This was our life”
Tag Archives: #grief-and-mourning
Musing
Today, I was thinking, with a bit of regret, that over the years I had not told Burt that he was handsome. This twinge was triggered by a poem in which I called him “my handsome man.” Isn’t it too late to let him know now? My regret is only half serious. Burt knew howContinue reading “Musing”
Grief, grieving
Is it possible to turn grief into grievance? I accept that grieving has no timeline; I don’t want to shoo my grief away. In a way, it’s my grief that honors Burt. So what am I talking about? Is it the sense that long term grief is a kind of wallowing? Yes, that is partContinue reading “Grief, grieving”
Re-telling
It seems that I am covering the same ground in my posts lately. A few from the last couple of days, in commemoration of six months since Burt’s passing, repeat many stories I have told you. Some of those are running on a loop, looking for answers. I know there are no answers and thatContinue reading “Re-telling”
Forgive me
Burt died at home. I’m glad I was able to take care of him at home for most of his struggle with LBD. Burt died at home, but I was not there at his moment of passing. Burt passed sometime between the moment I left home to walk to the gym and the ten minutesContinue reading “Forgive me”
Grieving
At the recommendation of a friend, I started reading [aka, listening to] Geraldine Brooks’ Memorial Days. [I am rewarded for my new audio gal habit by listening to the author herself.] All those asides are beside the point. Brooks’ says early on that she did not grieve fully for her husband because society has devaluedContinue reading “Grieving”
Accountable
It feels like I should have control over my feelings, my memories, my past and my future. The jumble sale that is a life can be so much messier than any accounting of it suggests. Well, in 1990, I did this; actually, I met Burt, so it was a big year. In 1992, we gotContinue reading “Accountable”
Acting my age
In the little over three months since Burt’s passing, I have begun to feel old. Well, to express it more accurately, I have begun feeling my age. My first, initial, reaction was that the strain of care, worrying about Burt’s physical and emotional state, lifted. That came also with a lift of my shoulders aContinue reading “Acting my age”
this is our life 