Monthly Archives: December 2011

greater and lesser degrees

The grief attacks seem like a  sort of panic attack.   The feeling is sudden, the thoughts flood in, my son is dead.  He is really gone.  I will not see, hear or touch him again in this world.   … Continue reading

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resolutions

One part of the holiday is over and another looms on the horizon.  The problem is that it marks with vast distinction 6 months since our son’s death on January 2nd.   Anticipation of Christmas was worse than the actual … Continue reading

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Holiday from the holiday

This is a week that cannot be written about.  I look at the screen and my mind is whirling with thoughts, none of them useful.  We are trying to superimpose old routines upon this time of the year.  They don’t … Continue reading

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The season

December 19th -It has been one of those weekends where I have been aware of my thoughts much like when you become aware of the ticking of a clock and would like for it to be quiet.  I wished for … Continue reading

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An unexpected gift

A friend of mine and fellow artist showed me one of her paintings that will be featured in a show this Spring.  The vantage point was from above looking down on a street somewhere in Europe.  The street arches away … Continue reading

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a fable

I am so tired of being sad.  I am annoyed by feelings of guilt when I am not sad.  I think I startle others when I laugh and joke, I am past startling myself.  There is a form of punishment … Continue reading

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Pip

I fasted from writing for a few days, at least from this type of writing.  I wrote short poems and a simple Christmas acrostic.  I also started trying to transcribe a journal kept by my son.   I am not … Continue reading

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In All Things . . .

I would rather have the pain of missing my son in my life, than to never have had him at all.  My life would not be what it is were it not for my children. They humble me with their … Continue reading

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In the moment

I’ve only had one panic attack that I know of or can remember vividly.  It happened less than a week after my son died.  I had gone to the kitchen, my husband, daughter and sister were in the den.  I … Continue reading

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Life among the living

Gray the day wet with rain fog wrapped and dripping a heavy hand. The process to be worked the step by step by step the small pool of light right there at your feet all that  can be seen. Misunderstood … Continue reading

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