read the warning first, dear fishies
dear jenn see,
i'm warning you now so that if you want to duck out the back door or exit stage left, you have the chance. i have had a shitty week. this is not a happy fish.
sometimes i think we, in America, are so paralyzed by loss that the subject is almost taboo. death is so distanced from us, either by over saturation on TV, movies, video games or we suffer from the "over-there syndrome"... i'm sure you've felt it too in all of this; the "this kinda stuff happens to other people" feeling. but it doesn't always. this time we are the other people and you know what - it fucking hurts.
but i don't feel the loss of jenn less today than yesterday, than two weeks ago. sure i'm not bursting into tears every few minutes and i can talk to people without losing it - sometimes... but that doesn't mean i've gone numb to the sense of her not being here any more, i just lose in private ways or at least more private places.
perhaps the shock has worn off, leaving behind the dreaded realization that no matter how much i want to dwell within the fact that she is gone, i have to live, if only because she's not. life moves and so must i.
i feel the loss more today and expect to feel it more tomorrow. each little thing that i can't tell her -- not just the things that i forgot to mention or never got the chance when... but the new things, the now things. some times the stupidest things are the worst - like she'll never look at me and ask where i got my watch or if that 's the ring i stole from her... she never...
she'll never, what? what will she never? she did. she was... amazing. she was and that is enough for me, until i reach for my phone to call... until i want to take a picture and can't figure out who to show it to. it's not just she that will never, you know? i'll never get to ask her opinion again. i'll never get to hear her voice again, hear her laugh. i'll never.
mourning is always selfish, no matter how it feels at first.
this is not a bad thing.
so thanks, jenn for making my thoughts come to a point. thank you for building conversations with me, like skyscrapers that only tumbled when we woke up the next day and couldn't remember what we were talking about. thank you for getting mad at me when i was being stupid, narrow-minded or just too much. thank you for pointing out when i was being super-cool or melodramatic or just plain weird. thank you for caring. thank you. i could probably go on and so i will... at some point, but not now. now just... thank you. i love you. good night.
love,
mysfit
p.s. yes, i used 8 ellipses just because i know it irritates you, my dear jenn... (oops nine)
posted by mysfit @ 2:02 AM
8 little fish:
I don't have anything to say, I just didn't feel like I should stop by w/o saying hello.
Loss is very much like being in pain. It's very hard to describe, it leaves you emotionally and physically fatigued and people can't really appreciate how deep you suffer until they go through it themselves!
If you'll pardon the expression .... screw the taboo!
Your strength is admirable.
Mourning is different for everyone. Even for us. It shifts and changes as the minutes pass. There is no right or no wrong about it, it just is; although some would argue that point. I enjoyed the ellipses ~ it made me smile because you're right, that's something she'd have noticed right away.
Thanks Mysfit.
Hi, I can so relate to everything you said. It is the little things that I want to share with her, the stupid stuff and fun stuff. I want to give her herbs from my garden. She asked me for a recipe and I was going to give it to her on Sat.at my b'day lunch. I can never go the the Phila. Art Mus. because we saw all the exhibits together. I see her still alive and laughing. I can't get my head around any of it and so I just go hour to hour and sometimes pretend. Love, O.M.
what you said, mysfit.
mourning is selfish, and it has to be. whatever you believe about the death, the one thing sane people can agree on is that people who are dead are okay. mourning is about those of us who are still alive figuring out what to do with the fact that someone who is important to us is gone.
and I agree with you that our culture is particularly inept at dealing with it. some of our rhetoric is incredibly unhelpful.
I come from a family of people who, for reasons not clear to me, have taken up the job of working with the bereaved... my father is a minister, for instance. not me. too hard. but I like his take on this... he tells people, you know what? death is not something you "get over." it's something you live with, that will always be a part of you, and you don't try to make it go away. rather, you try to take care of yourself, rebuild your life as you live it, and look for a measure of peace.
so, mysfit and o.b. and everyone, good luck to you as you begin that journey.
thank you all for coming. it's good to know that our fishies are still around. i love you all.
say werd. no getting over, just learning to incorporate it.
Post a Comment
<< Home