I Didn't Listen

[thisnewday]

After dropping my grandson off for basketball, I came back to the house for something to eat.

Then, I went upstairs, sat in the comfortable chair with the copper-colored threads running through it, picked up Cunningham's novel, The Hours, and read.

I got to the part where Richard is precariously perched on the window sill of his 5th floor apartment and Clarissa is talking to him, begging him to come back in.

He asks her for a story, something from her day, and she tells it. Then begs him to come back in.

He says he doesn't think he can make it to the party and she tells him that he doesn't have to. And begs him to come back in.

Then, he falls from the window to the pavement below and my eyes close tightly and a voice, I think it was mine, says, "Oh no." Just, "Oh, no."

After that, I put a marker in the book and closed it and walked over to the computer and sat. For a moment or two, I just sat.

Then, I started to type. My eyes were streaming and I typed.

You had told me that this would happen and I didn't listen...

LPK
Dreamwidth
11.11.2017

Comments

[rosegardenfae]

That's cute what your grandson says and the way you see it is beautiful.

I think that Erin wanted Anah to have more in her skill set than she herself does and set out to give it to her. I'm happy to see it is working. I have so few coping skills and I know that some of my girls picked up that pattern from me. The hope lives strong in my heart that the grandchildren will have strength, resilience, and hope. They are sure going to need it in this jacked up world we inhabit.

So humor is your defense in a way? It holds back the darkness a little? Another thing, I'm not so good at is humor, my family never gets my jokes. NEVER!

Therapy, I've done a number of times. Though none at the time of my husband's death which is probably when I needed it most. He died in '69 and I saw my first therapist circa '76, had experienced my first Panic Attack and gone through a midstage miscarriage that was totally gruesome. I loved the guy. His name was Ralph. He was a recovering alcoholic, born-again Christian, and he helped me understand me. I've encountered some really crappy ones too. I feel it is essential to find the right person.

Every time I went through some therapy I learned more about myself. I have thought about looking for someone to talk to again, but haven't had the energy to make it happen. And, after all, I do, by now know that everything is temporary and my moods are extremely labile so what goes down must come up.

One thing I really disliked was a support group. After my granddaughter's death, her mom, a couple of the sisters and I went to a support group for folks who children had died. There were people there who had lost kids 30 years prior and they still had not been able to move on. You have move on, there is NO other way. We went once and left before it was over.

And, don't take any meds if you can possibly avoid it. You have such a great brain, I'd hate to see it get fucked up. *E climbs off her soapbox before she really gets going*

Oh what a title for the next read, I'm very interested in what it has to say on the subject. Eternally questioning and weighing the side effects of say my hypertension meds against the result of quitting them. That is just downright weird. The timing.. ohmy!

My experience is that the first year is the hardest, the first holidays, anniversary of passings all carry a unique heartbreak. I tell you just like told Anah, it gets better if we allow ourselves forgiveness, the healing can begin. You know I know what I'm talking about.

So now are you thinking that this crazy woman from Missouri is on a roll and may never shut up? ... lol

Wishing you only the best
E