Sunday, January 11, 2015
If the man who loves me is really gone from this world, I'd like a plane ticket to somewhere fabulous. I'd like to go out every night to some bar with colored lights and live music. I'd like a couple glasses of wine right now and a signed contract stating that I will not have to follow the ambulance to the emergency room in the dark in the rain while slightly impaired. Yeah.
Well, what I have is a fairly peaceful house tonight. I don't understand the moaning thing that my mom does. Sometimes it's frightening. Sometimes only moderately disturbing. This evening, it's been downgraded to mere mumbling. Soon she'll come out of her room and want her bedtime ice cream. Ice cream before bed is a family tradition. She and my Dad had ice cream before bed every single night of my growing up years. I'm hardly ever in the mood for ice cream these days and haven't been for ages. If I could have any dessert I wanted right now, I'm not even sure what it would be.
I started keeping a private journal of how I'm feeling. I did it one day. The next few days I felt so shitty about everything that I didn't even want to write it down. But I've been hurting less. It's like my mother's moaning, I guess.
I feel lucky to be keeping company with so many good people from T'ai Chi Chih and yoga.
Two more excellent grief links here. Did you know that grief theory has evolved in recent years? The five stages model is considered passé. Read this: Getting Grief Right
And as someone who practiced attachment parenting, why not Attachment Grieving? I'm fond of attachment in general.
Right now I'm re-attaching to Downton Abbey. I was getting tired of it, but I'm interested in the plot line that has to do with Edith and her baby. After that, if this bout of sleeplessness I feel coming on endures, I'm going to work on a new short story.
How did you finish up your weekend?