Circle Gatherings

Meeting up in a church lounge.  The Compassionate Friends.  Each person there sharing a common experience.  Mourning the death of a child.  A close friend pointing out some time ago that I now belong to this "special club".  Reading in the group's literature that "there is no charge to attend, we have already paid our dues".  Appreciating the sentiment behind those words.  After the meeting, imagining the possibly of a circle gathering elsewhere sharing the pain of desperately wanting to have children but unable to.  Both grievous places to sit.  Of the two, preferring the one I am sitting in.

Living with Death

Parents grieving the death of a child.  Sisters mourning the loss of their brother.  Friends deeply missing one of their own.  This morning's paper filled with stories mirroring ours.  Human beings dealing with these inescapable human experiences, each in their own way.  Learning how to live with death.  Something asked of each one of us the moment we chose to be born.

Not Too Soon

"Is it not too soon?"  "In my culture, the bereaved do not attend celebrations for a year." "This would be considered disrespectful in my family." These some of the comments I heard during the time leading up to the memorial golf tournament.  I had not even considered that concern when we began planning a few weeks after the accident.  These remarks were reminders that the "rules" for grieving and mourning are very diverse.  In some cultures the immediate family members wear black for an extended period of time.  In others, mourning attire is white.  Not black and white.  Black or white.  Or red, yellow, purple.  As with most rituals and traditions, there is no universal "right" or "wrong".  As for me, I will continue to make my choices based on what resonates within.  Judging from the feedback, that event resulted in so many experiencing some solace, moments of happiness, and a slight lessening of the pain.  How on earth would it have been more "proper" to wait a year or more?

One Month Today

It's been one month now.  Much of the time every cell in my body feels exhausted and depleted.  It's difficult to think clearly for long periods of time. The physical toll mourning takes on the body is deep.  Today I fleetingly thought about the days ahead without him here to hug or laugh with, and I felt as if my heart would stop beating, so I quickly shifted away from that.  Going down that road is not something I want to do right now, if ever.   I remind myself that it has to be "One Day at a Time", as it is with everything in life.  I cry when I need to and smile when I can.  I miss him something fierce.