"Good" Grief

wow . . . it's been awhile since I last posted something here . . . May of 2010 . . . yeah, I guess nothing has happened in the last 20 months or so . . . :-\

Whatever!?$%#!

rejected friendships . . . judged by others . . . changes in life plans and professional goals (lol) . . . less finances . . . more car problems . . .


but that is in the past, at least for right now . . . at least somewhat . . .

Grief has a way of disturbing the past . . . the present . . . the future . . .

And I think I will start vomiting some thoughts once again . . . this time as my heart and life processes things . . .

It's been almost a month since I got another distruptive phone call (at 4am this time) . . . this time it was about mom . . . she had fallen in her bathroom and was going to the ER. Thus began 2 1/2 weeks of roller coaster riding that has left me feeling like a zombie at times . . . pissed off at other moments . . . and "normal" in some rare instances.

Mom passed away almost 2 weeks ago now . . . I was overwhelmed by the emotions of those weeks . . . surprised . . .

"Good Grief" . . . really Charlie Brown?? REALLY ?? There always seemed to be some resignation in his tone as I watched and read those cartoons . . . and yet there seems to be a whisper of redemption as well.

There is very little that I have experienced about grief that has been good in my life. And before some of you try to rectify my situation by pointing out the good fruit, the silver lining, the blessings, etc . . . let me simply say this . . . Do me a big favor and stop reading now . . . and please just shut up for awhile . . . I have a feeling that these ramblings will be messy and raw . . . but something and some-things need to be said.

Googling "grief" has its insightfulness . . . the stages . . . understanding . . . etc . . . but Googling leaves out one major headline . . . THIS S$*& (that editing was for my love ;-)) SUCKS!!

Grief feels like someone has reached into my stomach area . . . through my sternum . . . felt around for my gall bladder or my liver or my lung and just pulled it directly out . . . wait, that isn't my bladder or liver, you may have my colon or something deeper. . . no stitching, to carderizing (sp?), . . . just raw and abusive . . . you gotta think of Indiana Jones and the Skull movie I think as the guy reaches into the other dude and yanks out his heart and then shows it to him . . . yeah . . . ouch and yuk!

It's not supposed to happen . . . and yet it does . . . and life shouts that we just go on and yet we can't . . . we won't . . . we mustn't . . .

Grief . . . a reminder that what we've experienced as "life" is simply an illusion or may be better yet - an echo of another "Life" . . . something more is out there as I experience something less. And it is "less" . . . because , she is gone . . . I know it is natural . . . I know it is part of the circle of life Rafiki . . . but she's gone . . . I've forgotten her voice . . . her laugh . . . her "tone" . . . we've been left with a mess of problems to journey through . . .

Grief Sucks . . .

and yet . . .

i have sensed a goodness in this place . . . now, again, for those who are itching to rush me to the end of the story . . . just shut up . . . go read the latest captions in Christianity Today magazine or something christianese like that . . .

yeah . . . some good-ness . . .

for the last couple of days with mom in her moments of dementia . . . her moments after her brain surgery . . . I began to taste something "good" in our relationship . . .

something I have longed for . . . for a long time . . .

and then it was snatched away by death . . .

Grief's presence seems stronger . . .

I'm haunted by desire and death within . . . feels worse that that week at Lake Swan camp as a kid, where I buried my head in my pillow and cried myself to sleep every night . . . where the other kids laughed at me and I didn't fit in . . . my stomach hurt the whole week . . . thought I would throw up the whole week . . . they called it "homesickness" . . . I called it "you're a panzy-ass whimp who can't stay away from home and be like all the other 'almost grown up men' boys" . . . I think I was 10 or 11 maybe

The haunting feels so raw again . . .

Gosh I hate it!!

Been feeling very "anxious" as Jan and I prepare to head back home . . . why?? , I don't have a clue . . . my stomach is in my throat . . . was "hoping" that this week to unwind would help me keep things together and move on . . .lol . . . not really, I know . . . but give me a break --- I can pretend can't I ??!!!?!!

But grief won't let us pretend will it? Nope . . . it's "in your face" . . . even though it can be buried under the surface for a time.

So I'm here . . . wherever that is . . .

and,

something within whispers "it's good" . . .