I find myself very serious, thoughtful and emotive these days. There is little or no room for joy. The emotions that encumber my attention are heavy like wet leaves. The words that used to come to help me articulate what is happening are choked because the feelings that emerge are so damned suffocating. I don't want to admit the harshness of how I am feeling even to myself, anymore. I've been depressed with anxiety before…this feels way too much like that and it scares the shit out of me. My little boat won't stay afloat. It slips beneath the waterline and hovers there beneath the surface. I am bailing like crazy with daily prayer and a healthy routine, writing, photography and movies…a lot of movies. Will I find my way back to peace again? Will I emerge from this cocoon with new wings and a new ability to fly? Doubt has gained a little toehold. What to do about that?
We had weekend featuring ever more chatter and busyness. All the activity plunged me deeper into this hole. I am trying to figure out why this happens. What about Life moving on around me causes this hyper-angst and sucking sadness? Laughter physically hurts and often turns to tears.
At the end of a noisy day, I lay down to go to sleep and that is when I am engulfed in the heaviness. The movie theater of memory plays the night you died over and over. The eyes of friends and family reflect back to me the horror, the truth; the one that my mind is still trying to absorb and can't, quite. If it's a good night, I hear your voice and remember your smile and I can conjure your confident swaggering walk and your great sense of humor. But often the memory movie dwells on how you were thrown forcefully out of that truck, hit your head and died right then and there on the ground. How I wish I could have protected you from your own volition, your own brash cockiness, your own date with fate. Then the movie moves on to that horrible moment when I saw you laid out in a casket. I held your hand and it gutted me that it was so cold. All I wanted to do was warm you up. I wanted to transfer every bit of life energy and warmth from my body to yours. I would give all of what I am to see you released from this terrible new story line.
We say, and I know this to be true, that the body is merely a vehicle for spirit to walk about and experience Life. Like a coat, the body is shed when it is no longer usable and the spirit moves on. I just have to say that I really, really liked this coat, Thor. Like a lot. And I really, really liked you walking around wearing it, sweet boy. So the physical Mom's heart is ripped to shreds and still bleeds freely. The spiritual MA, the one that is so connected to the Real You, expands and grows toward that Divine Love with each day and knows that any story of this plane is limited and subject to change.
I can't reconcile what is happening around me with what is happening inside me with what is happening at the soul level. I don't know how to move, how to talk, how to walk, how to think, how to laugh, how to work, now. The gulf is so wide and deep that I wonder if I can ever pull these pieces back together.
I've been reading some pretty deep stuff lately to help me come to grips with you dying and how to greet each day that passes. There is solace in spiritual texts, memoirs from others who have traveled this road and even some of the very wise social media memes that pepper my content feeds daily. These gems of wisdom invite me to take heart and seek the immortal spirit where you are whole and hale. While others remind me to be gentle with this earthly mother's heart. They remind me that grief is a process that will slow and ease into something bearable - given time. I have some advice on how to ride the waves that rise up to capsize me. There are many offerings to remind me that you are with me every moment as a bright, shining angel and that you will walk with me as long as I am on this road. I have been told I will never get over it, nor through it.
It's too much. I am overwhelmed with everything, and yet I need everything that is being offered just so I can get by. This is grief work and it fucking sucks. No wonder my little boat is willing to simply slip away quietly into a gray and numb place. Depression offers the illusion of rest for a weary heart. It is not rest, it is a life-sucking energy vampire that lays in wait for me. I have to keep paddling, bailing, striving for --- something. I don't even know where I am going anymore. I thought I had a some coordinates to guide me on this journey. I thought that the discovery of Divine Love would help me find you and would offer an answer and maybe it will whenever I eventually get there. Right now that seems a far off destination when I am in the middle of these ripping gale force winds and crushing currents.
The truth is, this is not answerable. This is not solvable. We are different now. More different than I ever imagined we would be. We are on new headings to places I never imagined existed inside the human heart. I'm gonna get the crap kicked out of me on this road. In this crucible I'll be purified, but not until I've melted and softened in the fire. On this raging sea, I will have to learn to sail and sometimes swim for shore. It's exhausting and consuming to be on this journey of spirit, fire, water, blood and bone.
I fervently pray for Grace to intercede and help me endure what is not endurable. I pray that I can render unto God what is God's; You and me - all of us, really. This surrendered state will offer real rest if I can do it. Render unto God what is God's…
Gah! Like I said, Thor, these are heavy, heavy thoughts. I need a break. Movie, anyone?
I love you,
Mom
We had weekend featuring ever more chatter and busyness. All the activity plunged me deeper into this hole. I am trying to figure out why this happens. What about Life moving on around me causes this hyper-angst and sucking sadness? Laughter physically hurts and often turns to tears.
At the end of a noisy day, I lay down to go to sleep and that is when I am engulfed in the heaviness. The movie theater of memory plays the night you died over and over. The eyes of friends and family reflect back to me the horror, the truth; the one that my mind is still trying to absorb and can't, quite. If it's a good night, I hear your voice and remember your smile and I can conjure your confident swaggering walk and your great sense of humor. But often the memory movie dwells on how you were thrown forcefully out of that truck, hit your head and died right then and there on the ground. How I wish I could have protected you from your own volition, your own brash cockiness, your own date with fate. Then the movie moves on to that horrible moment when I saw you laid out in a casket. I held your hand and it gutted me that it was so cold. All I wanted to do was warm you up. I wanted to transfer every bit of life energy and warmth from my body to yours. I would give all of what I am to see you released from this terrible new story line.
We say, and I know this to be true, that the body is merely a vehicle for spirit to walk about and experience Life. Like a coat, the body is shed when it is no longer usable and the spirit moves on. I just have to say that I really, really liked this coat, Thor. Like a lot. And I really, really liked you walking around wearing it, sweet boy. So the physical Mom's heart is ripped to shreds and still bleeds freely. The spiritual MA, the one that is so connected to the Real You, expands and grows toward that Divine Love with each day and knows that any story of this plane is limited and subject to change.
I can't reconcile what is happening around me with what is happening inside me with what is happening at the soul level. I don't know how to move, how to talk, how to walk, how to think, how to laugh, how to work, now. The gulf is so wide and deep that I wonder if I can ever pull these pieces back together.
I've been reading some pretty deep stuff lately to help me come to grips with you dying and how to greet each day that passes. There is solace in spiritual texts, memoirs from others who have traveled this road and even some of the very wise social media memes that pepper my content feeds daily. These gems of wisdom invite me to take heart and seek the immortal spirit where you are whole and hale. While others remind me to be gentle with this earthly mother's heart. They remind me that grief is a process that will slow and ease into something bearable - given time. I have some advice on how to ride the waves that rise up to capsize me. There are many offerings to remind me that you are with me every moment as a bright, shining angel and that you will walk with me as long as I am on this road. I have been told I will never get over it, nor through it.
It's too much. I am overwhelmed with everything, and yet I need everything that is being offered just so I can get by. This is grief work and it fucking sucks. No wonder my little boat is willing to simply slip away quietly into a gray and numb place. Depression offers the illusion of rest for a weary heart. It is not rest, it is a life-sucking energy vampire that lays in wait for me. I have to keep paddling, bailing, striving for --- something. I don't even know where I am going anymore. I thought I had a some coordinates to guide me on this journey. I thought that the discovery of Divine Love would help me find you and would offer an answer and maybe it will whenever I eventually get there. Right now that seems a far off destination when I am in the middle of these ripping gale force winds and crushing currents.
The truth is, this is not answerable. This is not solvable. We are different now. More different than I ever imagined we would be. We are on new headings to places I never imagined existed inside the human heart. I'm gonna get the crap kicked out of me on this road. In this crucible I'll be purified, but not until I've melted and softened in the fire. On this raging sea, I will have to learn to sail and sometimes swim for shore. It's exhausting and consuming to be on this journey of spirit, fire, water, blood and bone.
I fervently pray for Grace to intercede and help me endure what is not endurable. I pray that I can render unto God what is God's; You and me - all of us, really. This surrendered state will offer real rest if I can do it. Render unto God what is God's…
Gah! Like I said, Thor, these are heavy, heavy thoughts. I need a break. Movie, anyone?
I love you,
Mom
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