Something not talked or written about much is the challenge of pulling oneself together after grief. And there's no time line allotted to grief, is there? It takes as long as it takes. Often it's delusional. We think we're adjusting nicely after, oh whatever length of time, and bam, it hits again out of the blue, a memory triggered by something small, something large, an old song, a beloved poem, a photo falling out of a book, a bookmark. And it knocks the breath out of the body.
Another friend died during the past week and I feel a little suspended in time. Well, a lot. Little projects swept aside, a commissioned article I am unable to start, an editing job sitting in my files. I didn't know her very well but enough to like her when our paths crossed. She was outspoken and opinionated on her politics. And like myself, had no time for small talk. So we clicked. If we lived in the same province we would have made the friendship closer. Cancer is taking a lot of us. Frightening. Even for the so-called "clean" livers, the hikers, the vegetarians, the "honour the bodies".
I drank and smoked like a fiend for years. And yet here I am, cleaned up and sober now, and surveying the wreckage of other lives taken far too soon. The ones who would gently lecture me about my "unsustainable" habits, my "out of controlness."
I don't know why I'm jotting down these random thoughts here and now. But I'm happy, in a weird way, that the writing muse has struck me tonight in these ramblings. And maybe it will ignite the unfinished reams of writing around me.
I go through my bloglist now and it's looking mighty slim. I have an RIP section and it startles me as to the number on it. My old blogmates. Some vanish with no reason, some let us know. One sent out a bunch of postcards to us a week before she died with her photo on the front.
But I wouldn't have missed the ride in blogland for the world and hope to continue and more frequently.
As I picked up my daughter from the airport I was astonished to see 3 RCMP officers on horseback, casually riding by my car as I waited. You will have to embiggen.
I haven't lost anyone close to me, but I counted Sue as a close friend and cried so much for two days, but find I can think of her now without tearing up and grabbing tissues by the handful.
ReplyDeleteGrief is tricky River and little reminders pop up. Surprising us with memories. I find they live on like that, in little memories.
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As we lose people in real life, so we lose them in blog life. It is awful when someone stops blogging and it is out of character, and there isn't anyway to know what happened to them. At least we knew with Sue.
ReplyDeleteSo grateful for Sue and her contact right up to the end. We develop such close friendships in blogland, Andrew, and feel their pain in their losses too.
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Grief is so unpredictable, as you say we can be motoring along ok and then just not.
ReplyDeleteThe other big surprise to me was when I sobbed and sobbed for a one time colleague. He was a good man and I had deeply respected him but at the time of his death, I hadn't seen him in 10 years.
You have done well to have a wide variety of friends but the loss must sometimes feel catastrophic.
It does Kylie, my mother gave me the example of treasuring friends and I am so grateful to her. She was right. Relationships come and go and our friendships stay. So grateful for these blogland friendships that sustain us.
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I've been reading blogs for years now and although I don't write one I feel the loss when a favorite disappears or dies. Sometimes I surprise myself with how much some are missed.
ReplyDeleteJackie M
I believe writing clarifies our thoughts and feelings Jackie and the truth shines from our written words. Yes, one has been on my mind for a few weeks. She has disappeared and I must try and track her down.
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I read River's comment with amazement. I can't begin to number the losses through death I've experienced through the 7 decades I've been on the earth. Some brought me to my knees. Some were gut-wrenching. But with every goodbye, I learned. The commitment to engage in life is renewed.
ReplyDeleteMe too Mona, some far, far more debilitating than others. I hate to think how many of my high school graduation buddies are gone and some life-long friends. It's challenging to keep the head above the parapet on some days.
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Sue's demise also put me to tears, and to thinking about the many bloggers lost to ... who know what. lihe you I have a RIP section, but I also have a MIA section, and somehow those hurts just as much, and maybe even more, uncertainty is bad.
ReplyDeleteI hope that when I die, my family will respect my wishes and publish a final good bye post from me.
Yes me too Charlotte. Awful not to know. I always assume the worst has happened, but then again I am in touch with some who abandoned blogging even though I thought their blogs were far, far more lucid than mine.
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Connections...I love them, in all shapes and forms. Some are fact to face. Some online, never meeting in 3D. Some are connected to other friends who I have come to know well through that friend. I love the connections, and with each break, my heart breaks a bit.
ReplyDeleteThe husband of a friend died this past week. I had not known he had deteriorated so much until I saw his daughter in the grocery store and she filled me in on what her stepmother had been up against the past few months. In a few days the friend posted of his death. I was very sad for her (he was a bit of loudmouth fella who I never really got to know) as she loved him dearly. So, another connection, gone.
It's very challenging Delaine and many of our dear ones leave footprints all over our hearts. Grief can take us by surprise most of the time. My mother has been dead since I was young and a friend asked me to describe her over coffee the other day and I had to say I can't, I'll start crying. And we dropped it. My mother's been dead for 54 years.
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I heard someone say the other day that after a death it can be like coming into your kitchen and discovering the table is gone: Something that should be there is not. You walk around it, disbelieving, till eventually your mind catches up to reality. I'm not sure our hearts ever catch up to it and I can't say much better about my mind either.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad to see you posting here again. It's a long wait between entries! But they're worth it.
On my blog, I've scheduled an entry to post automatically if I'm no longer able to do anything at my computer or if I've died. It includes the email addresses of Farmbeau and Everett. At the beginning of every month I reschedule the posting date for another month down the road. It puts my mind at ease about leaving my bloggy friends hanging, because I do hate when that happens.
A great idea, Kate, I must plan that but my fear would be I would hit a poor health gap and my death would be announced falsely. But at least I'd get a flavour of how much I'd be missed. Or not. 🤣
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My sister Joan said something similar -- an announcement when it wasnt true could be a shock for some readers. Mine says I might be incapacitated, not necessarily gone to my great reward, and there are addresses for Farmbeau and Everett if anyone wants to know for sure. That's about the best we can do, isn't it? My scheduled post is for more than 2 months later, too. Let me know if you need help with any of it.
DeleteBy the way, lovely to see the RCMP on horses!
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