Postby Muri McCage » Thu Sep 15, 2016 12:43 pm
Ishmael, thank you for your sympathy and for sharing your touching story. Poetry is a great healer. I've lost count of how many times I've listened to readings of W. H. Auden's Funeral Blues on YouTube. I really appreciate the reminder that I'm not alone
Thank you, Disgruntled Peony.
Thank you, Laurie. Yes, grief and the relief that her suffering is over is exhausting. It can be all consuming. There's a major contributor too, in the necessary but overwhelming business of settling her affairs. It can feel like erasing all traces of her existence, but I remind myself that she left a mark on this world far more indelible than her name on utility statements. I've written 300 whole words in the aftermath. I entered a story I wrote while she was still at home with me (I managed to keep her out of the nursing home until the last few months) in Q4. Fitting, since she was my greatest, unswerving supporter.
Thank you, Rachelle. I don't tend to get writer's block, but I've found that this level of grief is like writer's boulder. It's wonderful that you were able to write a story about your dad and it got HM. I'm building a story in my head that will be a science fiction based cause and cure for Alzheimer's, inspired by my mom and the other dear people in the nursing home with her. If only real life could find a cure....
Thank you, Athena.
Thank you, pdblake, for sharing a bit of what you've been through. One death of a loved one is terrible. So much more so, when several come in close succession. Best wishes for a healed heart. I had to pregrieve for my mother several years ago, when I was forced to realize the wonderful mother I'd always known and depended on had been largely taken from me by that awful disease. I thought that might make her actual death easier, but I was wrong. Like you, I think my experiences would make a good story helpful to others, but it will have to be on its own timetable.
I'm so sorry to hear about your brother, Jason. Some profound losses can make it feel as if time has stopped, like being caught in amber.
Thank you, Louis. Even though circumstances differ, there are universal parts of grief that bring us all together and that's very comforting.
Thank you, Julia.
I now return you to your regularly scheduled twitching.