Bereavement Observations #1: "Only [death] can break your heart..."
...*
    The site to which I've linked the words in the immediately previous post has an interesting paragraph in this section that states: "You may start to feel better in small ways in about six weeks." It goes on to say, "...though that grief takes its own time." This is certainly true in my case. As far as I can tell, as well, I haven't even begun to "reorganize [my] life around [my] loss." Maybe I'm just stubborn, but "plans for the future", including those I blithely made when my mother was alive (my oft mentioned list of "Things to Do when My Mother Dies" continue to seem presently moot.
    Oddly, about a month ago I was much more gung ho on "making plans" than I am now. A month ago I was able to envision a future, short and long term. I am no longer able to do this. As I mentioned to my nephew recently, one of my inherent characteristics is brooding. As well, I tend to ignore the overwhelmingly negative connotations of "brooding" and consider, instead, that when I am brooding I am accomplishing the same task as a hen sitting on eggs...I'm providing an optimum environment for hatching. Maybe I didn't do enough brooding a month ago and am getting around to it now. I'm not sure. What I do know is that, within the last month, the reality of death, not just my mother's death but death, in general, especially as it encroaches on the lives of those of us living through the deaths of loved ones, is what has me awed and dumbstruck. I am astonished that, through all the deaths I've experienced, I've never experienced the deaths of others as a capitalized Obstacle. My mother's death has placed Death as An Obstacle squarely in front of me and it is the hardest part of this experience of loss with which I'm having to contend. It is impossible to ignore or sidestep. Even as I attempt to continue normal activities, without warning The Obstacle looms in front of me at the most inconvenient of times and blocks me until I figure yet another way to get through it, or, perhaps more accurately, until I surrender and let The Obstacle move through me. The first couple of times I had this experience I thought, once I'd permitted The Obstacle passage, "Ah, well, that's taken care of." Now, though, I know that The Obstacle requires several pass-throughs and isn't yet satisfied that I have come to terms with it. I don't blame it. I haven't. I assume I will, but I don't have any idea how long this will take. I assume, as well, that being confronted by The Obstacle will happen less and less frequently...but, at the moment, the frequency of confrontation seems not to have abated.
    Later.

*  Thanks, and apologies, to you, Neil Young, for this song.
- posted by Gail Rae @ 18:34   email  this post