Sunday, January 29, 2012
Sunday, June 26, 2011
driving
I do my grieving while I drive. Alone with my thoughts, I don't have the pressures of home with me - tasks to complete, undone chores, visual reminders of my internal chaos. So, in the relative inner quietness of me-in-car-mode, I think. And write letters in my head. And grieve.
It took me a long while to realize that I would often do this about five minutes away from my destination. Highly illogical, as it has me arriving blotchy faced and teary eyed. Incidentally, I HATE crying in public. Or in front of anyone, even my closest friends and family.
But I finally figured out why my heart picked this timing: five minute installments were perfect for me, apparently. My heart knew what I could handle. I am rather in awe of this intelligence (I never would have been smart enough to plan mini-grief sessions) but I'm slowly discovering that my heart and body know exactly what they are up to. And I am learning that it feels good to listen.
It took me a long while to realize that I would often do this about five minutes away from my destination. Highly illogical, as it has me arriving blotchy faced and teary eyed. Incidentally, I HATE crying in public. Or in front of anyone, even my closest friends and family.
But I finally figured out why my heart picked this timing: five minute installments were perfect for me, apparently. My heart knew what I could handle. I am rather in awe of this intelligence (I never would have been smart enough to plan mini-grief sessions) but I'm slowly discovering that my heart and body know exactly what they are up to. And I am learning that it feels good to listen.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
russian sage
It's been a rough week. And once again, when I have an extra sad Paige week, one or more of my family members is also. And so here I am, checking to see if this week is an anniversary of anything extra hard; bad prognosis, turn for the worse. That sort of thing. It hurt hurts. Quite badly, actually.
I just read over a bunch of posts from September of 2007, two months before Paige died. How I had the presence of mind to write coherently is beyond me. It's hard to tell if it's a specific anniversary. I guess I'm sad just because.
A few weeks ago I dreamed of her again, which I do about every month or two. This time we were in the "middle room" of my childhood house, and Paige was there. I got to hold her, and she told me she loved me. And then something in the room - invisible to me - caught her attention, and her face keep looking left, then right, as though there were a stream of people passing. I think she said, "Guys!" And in the dream I figured out that they were male angels. And quite a few, too; probably fifteen of them. They had arrived to take Paige back to heaven. It was a nice visit, though.
I just read over a bunch of posts from September of 2007, two months before Paige died. How I had the presence of mind to write coherently is beyond me. It's hard to tell if it's a specific anniversary. I guess I'm sad just because.
A few weeks ago I dreamed of her again, which I do about every month or two. This time we were in the "middle room" of my childhood house, and Paige was there. I got to hold her, and she told me she loved me. And then something in the room - invisible to me - caught her attention, and her face keep looking left, then right, as though there were a stream of people passing. I think she said, "Guys!" And in the dream I figured out that they were male angels. And quite a few, too; probably fifteen of them. They had arrived to take Paige back to heaven. It was a nice visit, though.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Friday, December 18, 2009
Friday Ponderings
I am sad. It's hard for me when people post things online about their little girls. I want mine back! My daughter lived in the present with great gusto. I wonder - what would happen if I chose to live like that?
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
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