It is raining in Dallas, a start, we have had a drought for so long.
Life since November 13 has been interesting. I've had a confluence of several things. First, with SLD et al., I've no longer had food as a buffer and I've felt emotion much more strongly. Second, Jessica died a couple weeks before she would have turned seven.
All of this last year I've had a six year old child dredging up feelings and emotions. It is a lot like the way life went as she took us through becoming two and reminding us of Courtney, only I'm older and thought I was more recovered.
Along the way she cut her hair off. This week she pulled out Jessica's pictures and she was struck by how much Jessica's short hair pictures looked like her. Indeed, I've been noticing it myself, over and over again.
All in all, this last year, since November, I've been much more emotionally friable than I have been in years. Things have hit me and required me to deal with life and emotions again, with more force and tumult and turbulence than they've had for years. The week following July 5th is always a difficult one. This year's week was a good reminder to me that I need to learn some lessons again from a different perspective, at another level, that I had more of life to learn.
I really thought that with February out of the way, I had made it clear of any more of those experiences. July was a lesson that I had more lessons coming.
So now I'm wondering how August 31st will go. In some ways that date brings me full circle on my calendar of grief (though a full year without hiding behind food will not occur until I hit November 13th again). Sometimes I feel like surely, I'm too old for this, too experienced, too balanced for new mistakes, new waves of raw emotion, new missteps -- but I'm not. I'll make more mistakes, need to watch out for minefields and triggers as September starts with Heather at college, learn new lessons, wonder if I can survive Christmas and the wait until Rachel turns seven.
I'll try not to do too much harm, try to keep finding life interesting, start a new project or two. August will be an instructive month. I just hope it isn't too instructive, and that the drought in my soul will find rain as well. It has been long enough.
Jessica (February 12, 1986 to January 26, 1993), Courtney (February 16, 1992 to December 26, 1993), and Robin (July 6, 1997 to August 31, 1997).
4 comments:
I'm reluctant to write anything after reading your posts. I can't express how simultaneously beautiful and dreadful they are. I can say "thank you", however, but I know that it will not really convey what I feel.
Smells and flavors are the gateways to my memories. How does the rain smell in Dallas?
brian, thank you for your comments, they mean a lot.
the rain has a lot of different smells here, depending on which rain, from metallic to just a flood of wet. This one had the smell of dust fading.
Metallic rain--that smell always reminds me of my paternal grandmother's house. It is such a vivid memory that for a short moment I can see myself in her backyard, fiddling with the faucet that produced the smell (and that I was told not to touch).
"the smell of dust fading." I don't think I've ever experienced that one, but I'm trying to imagine it; it sounds appropriate for your August.
Stephen, reading your words gives me strength. Death has been a common visitor in our family as well. I never had to endure your type of pain, however.
I wish you well on this journey, to the plateau, to see the vision. My prayer will be to give you strength. You seem to be learning the lessons well.
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