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Susan
| Passions in Prose |
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Susan |
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Didymus Junior Member
since 2008-05-01
Posts 33USA |
Seems like I read it somewhere or just my own observation. The people of the Middle East deal so much better with grief than we people of the west. They embrace it. Wrap themselves in its tender hooked tentacles. I thought yes wrap myself in its blanket when the time would come. Spend a couple of weeks in that living death of grief. More if need be. Yet I’m told by those who’s profession it is to help the grieving that there are stages to this awful thing. Non-lineal stages that pass back and forth from one to another in no particular order save chaos. One step forward, three back. And then even after the worst is over Grief Bursts come and go for years. And you have a really bad day. For a lifetime. No human ever quite leaves those losses entirely in the past. So that’s what I’m doing right now spilling it out on a minimized window with my favorite picture of you on my desktop. The beautiful orange cover up with that million dollar smile on your even more beautiful face. The multicolored sofa with the tropical painting above your head. That huge pineapple table lamp pulled close, the books scattered across that end table. Just last year, Napili Point, surf just beyond our lanai. Maui. Those early morning coffees just outside The Gazebo with its fabulous waffles with coconut syrup and pecans. You were in heaven and I was looking into the face of a living breathing angel. I grieve for you. I grieve for what was. And yet you are alive! Your family is well praise be! Why are we no longer together? We know those answers or think we do or feel we do. If there is blame it is mine and mine alone yes? Lacking self confidence, unable to live in the now, fearing what might be. The big maybe. Stupid: the inability to learn. Old tapes - memories - from a distant irrelevant past twisted my perception of what was real. Different insane woman. Different children warped by their mother. Thirty years ago. Fear. Crap, useless crap. Impressed upon the now. Projected on those I love. And so I grieve a lost love. The finest woman I’ve ever known. Kids, yes but good kids. So much promise. All lost. All lost |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
A terrible cry, but a cry just the same. You'll never know when the cry will echo back. A deep and good write, Didymus. I look forward to more. |
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