All I know is you are traversing this brutal life landscape with tenderness and bravery that astonishes, my dear. I am here -listening and holding. This is my hug and hand squeeze to you.
I am reading a book which is all about what Alexandra Fuller is referring to, that there are two ways to live life. The intuitive mind and the rational mind. Or in the book by Dr. Sue Morter of "The Energy Codes" the Protective Personality and the Soulful Self.
She quotes Albert Einstein "The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift."
A few months is *nothing* in the immensity of acute grief. That whole first year is a cycle of getting through the “firsts” of everything. I think for me the anticipation of the holidays was harder than the reality - my family too, changed our holiday patterns and in the moments we were able to laugh at ourselves as well as cry because we were all going through it together. So many pies at Thanksgiving that year because everyone wanted to show love and fill the holes in each others’ hearts - thus, a truly hilarious amount of pie.
Then when life returns to some version of normalcy, of paying bills and shopping for groceries, it will be a changed normal, and punctuated by grief - like waters that once overwhelmed, now mostly lapping at the feet only, still occasionally and suddenly rising up. Joy returns, eventually, and beautifully so; but grief will always be at the table too. I say that 33 years after my parents died in the car crash. It’s all part of my life, now. The joy of a whole new generation, the grief that our parents were and are not here to share it.
Thank you for your writing - when you are able - for me it is a gift to read it.
Thank you Sarah -- for reading, for your perspective and for your own gorgeous writing. And for sharing your own heartbreak. I didn't know. I do know and I am so sorry for your devastating loss. It was 5 months ago to this day that Bailey slipped away and you said is so well. It's a matter of understanding, eventually, that this is all part of my life. You I hope are writing. And I will keep up on my end. Sometimes it's all too close and I will need time and distance from some topics.
It is our daughter's birth date that we celebrate and commemorate---NOT her death date. On Bailey's birthday be thankful for all the good things she brought into your lives--and that you brought into hers. It may not seem easy to do--but I think it is an important ritual. It is a reminder and an acknowledgment.
Isa, you write so clearly & with such honesty - many thanks & yes, please keep writing. Getting back won't serve you anymore as you say & that's Ok. I was reminded of Richard Hendrick's poem 'Cocoon' - have you come across it?
Isa … when I get the message you have a new post, I save it and read it so I can savor every single one of your words. I want to make space for the sentiments and messages you share so I can be in solidarity with you. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your journey.
Every new stage of Shep reminds me more of Bailey. This year as I get him dressed in a buzz light year costume for a Halloween celebration tonight I can only think of Bailey and the year she was almost 2 at Halloween and dressed as Elmo. I can still see her blue socks sticking out of the bottom of her thick fuzzy red costume - she didn’t want to wear shoes. She loved Elmo at that age and giggled with delight seeing herself dressed as him.
Isa, I hope your ability to identify the feelings you now carry, with no manual on how we're supposed to do it, helps you half as much as it helps those who read and listen.
We don't ever return to our old life. We long for it. We try to bargain our way back to it, but a loss like the one that assaulted you and your family the day Bai died irrevocably changes everything about living. So does a cancer diagnoses.
And yes, you are so right that the world is impatient for us to come back. And we can assure those who are paying attention, that we will. We will be back. But we will not be exactly as we were. We will be better. We will be kinder and more thoughtful and easier. We will be back. And we cannot push that river. It flows by itself. We're in a raft on the river and there are days we just barely hang on and days we feel brave enough to take the oars and days when the oars have disappeared and all we can do is hang on. Hopefully there will be more Holidays. More chances to host and be hosted by friends and neighbors and family. But for THIS year, and maybe others as well, your husband is wise. If Bai's sister is open to going it sounds like a great idea....
Thinking of you all and sending warmth this season and always. I find myself in a somber mood these days; as you know, this is a rough time of year for us too, what with the anniversaries of my father's and your dear sister's deaths on consecutive days this week, and I spent part of this morning putting together a playlist of songs that always make me cry. (I quit when I got up to 28 songs and two hours of music; I guess I really am an easy weeper, as Heather always said.) The catharsis of a good cry can help, as can travel (our family trip to Barcelona in 2012, which was wonderful, was a response to the first anniversaries of Heather's cancer diagnosis and your father's death), but of course they don't take the sorrow away. But I think the sorrow can make the joy even sweeter, as the joy can make the sadness more bearable. (That sounds facile even to me, but it's the best I can manage.) When I called my kids on Thursday, I learned that one of them is coping by "just trying not to feel stuff." I responded that as I've gotten older, and the losses have mounted, as they inevitably do, I've learned that the best course is to feel EVERYTHING. (I think my child was unconvinced.)
Dear Isa, my heart is always with you. I too withdrew from the world many years ago and I have found that I am ok with it and my life is more manageable because of it. I'm glad you are giving yourself permission to do what feels right for you. There is freedom in that discovery. Sending much love.
Sweet friend. The soothing honesty of your words makes us all a bit braver. Sending you love and appreciation for your beautiful spirit.
you have walked every inch with me. I will never forget that. sisterhood
All I know is you are traversing this brutal life landscape with tenderness and bravery that astonishes, my dear. I am here -listening and holding. This is my hug and hand squeeze to you.
thank you thank you.
I’m so glad that you are listening to yourself and your needs. And I love that about making space in your days.
I think of you often my friend.
I am reading a book which is all about what Alexandra Fuller is referring to, that there are two ways to live life. The intuitive mind and the rational mind. Or in the book by Dr. Sue Morter of "The Energy Codes" the Protective Personality and the Soulful Self.
She quotes Albert Einstein "The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift."
A few months is *nothing* in the immensity of acute grief. That whole first year is a cycle of getting through the “firsts” of everything. I think for me the anticipation of the holidays was harder than the reality - my family too, changed our holiday patterns and in the moments we were able to laugh at ourselves as well as cry because we were all going through it together. So many pies at Thanksgiving that year because everyone wanted to show love and fill the holes in each others’ hearts - thus, a truly hilarious amount of pie.
Then when life returns to some version of normalcy, of paying bills and shopping for groceries, it will be a changed normal, and punctuated by grief - like waters that once overwhelmed, now mostly lapping at the feet only, still occasionally and suddenly rising up. Joy returns, eventually, and beautifully so; but grief will always be at the table too. I say that 33 years after my parents died in the car crash. It’s all part of my life, now. The joy of a whole new generation, the grief that our parents were and are not here to share it.
Thank you for your writing - when you are able - for me it is a gift to read it.
Thank you Sarah -- for reading, for your perspective and for your own gorgeous writing. And for sharing your own heartbreak. I didn't know. I do know and I am so sorry for your devastating loss. It was 5 months ago to this day that Bailey slipped away and you said is so well. It's a matter of understanding, eventually, that this is all part of my life. You I hope are writing. And I will keep up on my end. Sometimes it's all too close and I will need time and distance from some topics.
💜
It is our daughter's birth date that we celebrate and commemorate---NOT her death date. On Bailey's birthday be thankful for all the good things she brought into your lives--and that you brought into hers. It may not seem easy to do--but I think it is an important ritual. It is a reminder and an acknowledgment.
an excellent reminder thank you Kitty!
Isa, you write so clearly & with such honesty - many thanks & yes, please keep writing. Getting back won't serve you anymore as you say & that's Ok. I was reminded of Richard Hendrick's poem 'Cocoon' - have you come across it?
that was marvelous thank you and thank you for the feedback. I love this: "There is always pain
In surrender,
In transformation"
Isa … when I get the message you have a new post, I save it and read it so I can savor every single one of your words. I want to make space for the sentiments and messages you share so I can be in solidarity with you. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your journey.
You are so dear Jodi and we need to catch up....so let's do. xo
Every new stage of Shep reminds me more of Bailey. This year as I get him dressed in a buzz light year costume for a Halloween celebration tonight I can only think of Bailey and the year she was almost 2 at Halloween and dressed as Elmo. I can still see her blue socks sticking out of the bottom of her thick fuzzy red costume - she didn’t want to wear shoes. She loved Elmo at that age and giggled with delight seeing herself dressed as him.
Oh sweet Shep.....someday!
Thank you, Isa. I/we understand 💜
Isa, I hope your ability to identify the feelings you now carry, with no manual on how we're supposed to do it, helps you half as much as it helps those who read and listen.
We don't ever return to our old life. We long for it. We try to bargain our way back to it, but a loss like the one that assaulted you and your family the day Bai died irrevocably changes everything about living. So does a cancer diagnoses.
And yes, you are so right that the world is impatient for us to come back. And we can assure those who are paying attention, that we will. We will be back. But we will not be exactly as we were. We will be better. We will be kinder and more thoughtful and easier. We will be back. And we cannot push that river. It flows by itself. We're in a raft on the river and there are days we just barely hang on and days we feel brave enough to take the oars and days when the oars have disappeared and all we can do is hang on. Hopefully there will be more Holidays. More chances to host and be hosted by friends and neighbors and family. But for THIS year, and maybe others as well, your husband is wise. If Bai's sister is open to going it sounds like a great idea....
Wow Sean that was a gorgeous comment. I like the notion of being kinder and more thoughtful so thanks for that blessing!
Thinking of you all and sending warmth this season and always. I find myself in a somber mood these days; as you know, this is a rough time of year for us too, what with the anniversaries of my father's and your dear sister's deaths on consecutive days this week, and I spent part of this morning putting together a playlist of songs that always make me cry. (I quit when I got up to 28 songs and two hours of music; I guess I really am an easy weeper, as Heather always said.) The catharsis of a good cry can help, as can travel (our family trip to Barcelona in 2012, which was wonderful, was a response to the first anniversaries of Heather's cancer diagnosis and your father's death), but of course they don't take the sorrow away. But I think the sorrow can make the joy even sweeter, as the joy can make the sadness more bearable. (That sounds facile even to me, but it's the best I can manage.) When I called my kids on Thursday, I learned that one of them is coping by "just trying not to feel stuff." I responded that as I've gotten older, and the losses have mounted, as they inevitably do, I've learned that the best course is to feel EVERYTHING. (I think my child was unconvinced.)
Thanks Martin. I know this week was tough and I agree feeling is the way to go, but it is THE toughest route. xo
Being altruistic and guilt free …. Your wellbeing is a priority … I so appreciate and respect your letters. Heartfelt and genuine.. Thank you
Dear Isa, my heart is always with you. I too withdrew from the world many years ago and I have found that I am ok with it and my life is more manageable because of it. I'm glad you are giving yourself permission to do what feels right for you. There is freedom in that discovery. Sending much love.
Thanks dear Jill. Yes just hitting the pause button for now! And always thanks for reading.
Dear Isa, Sending Love and support, always!
Yes to writing about all things, whatever is on your mind. Your writing is beautiful and always touches something in my soul. Thank you for writing.
Thank you, just thank you. You know how to show up!