When I was in my thirties, I did what Diane Keaton tells Woody Allen about a couple of years later in Annie Hall. I would imagine the death of my parents, cry, and think it would somehow prepare me for when it really happened. As any of you who have lost parents you loved already know, it doesn't work. I found that out when mine finally did die. My next really dumb thought was that once the worst had happened...I'd lost parents, all aunts and uncles, my older cousins...I could handle whatever life had to throw at me. As those of you who follow my blog know, I lost my cousin a few weeks ago. I cried at the time. I thought I'd gotten it all out, but it's been rebound time. My grief for her is suddenly immeasurable. I've started having the old grief dreams I had about my mother. Yes,it's still mother in them, again needing me to 'save' her from what is inevitable for us all. Dee has triggered them, though. So...I struggle along, try to get through this, knowing that stuffing grief doesn't work. I know that keeping busy does help, too. I'm doing that, as much as I can with an illness that limits 'busy'.
I don't need advice. I just needed to say this. So thanks.
a new blossom
opens in my garden