writing the storm out

i am not easily overwhelmed, but it’s been an emotional train wreck of a week for me. this culminated last night in a round of wine-box draining & some emails that had me wishing for the “unsend” button this morning. i even hid them from myself, deleting the sent items & clearing the deleted items & emptying the recycle bin & defragging the hard drive… well, almost. anyway.

this is not the sort of thing you tell people casually & i feel very questionable about posting it. one of those conversation stoppers, you know. makes people say oh, i’m very sorry to hear that, while backing away slowly… well, almost. anyway.

last sunday, the twentieth of january, 2002, would have been my son Alex’s 18th birthday. instead of spending the day in quiet reflection or something, i was out having the time of my life. i would like to say it was my way of flipping the bird to death & loss but in reality i feel just a wee bit guilty. the way i feel every time someone asks me how many kids i have & i don’t include Alex in their number.

so, my joyous sunday was more rollercoaster than any ride could have been. on the way down, driving the beautiful coast highway, ?southern cross? came on the radio – that song brings back the time of my daughter’s birth, & Alex was only 13 months younger – they would have been such good friends. i… have to stop this now.

i have been emotionally raw all week, because i couldn’t get this out of my mind. now i’m raw & hungover (actually, that’s pretty much passed, thank goodness). i’m hoping posting it will help it settle back into the background; i know that writing this was instrumental to the initial healing. writing always is.

22 thoughts on “writing the storm out

  1. goodness, lady, i wish i had the magic words that would make it all better, that i could bind the open wounds and abrade the scars so that you could be healed. but i don’t. if you need to take a potshot at someone, i’ll take the shot. if you just need someone to listen, i can do that too.

  2. I was surfing and found your page by accident… I don’t normally send messages to strangers, but I was compelled to comment on this entry.

    As painful as deaths are, I think you have no reason to feel guilty for having the time of your life on your son’s birthday. Death is aways a subtle a reminder of how short life really is… and how important it is to make the most of every moment.

    I hope people everywhere are having the times of their lives on my birthday, whether I’m around to see it or not. 🙂

  3. thanks to everyone, & welcome, stranger. finding pages ?by accident? is one of the grooviest things about surfing the ‘net, whether you’re the finder or the findee.

  4. Hey, as someone who had the opposite experience…in other words, as a son whose mother passed…I always used to go nuts around the time my mom died.

    But you can’t grieve forever. If you do, you’re dead too.

    I don’t hug much. It’s not something I’m comfortable with. But I do know what it feels like to have a loss that slowly, not entirely fades, and to find yourself suddenly remembering in the midst of life that you’d almost forgotten, that you were out and about on a day of signifcance.

    Hopefully that means something. I don’t know…it’s early in the AM for me, I’m sad because it’s my nature to be sad at this time, because this is when I would get up and help get the house ready for the day and it’s been over a decade and I still feel it, yet what hurts more is how hard it is to remember how it felt. Anyway, I’m glad you came out despite it, and I’m glad to have met you.

  5. kd..I have no words and all I can offer is a cyberhug, which are never as good as the real thing, in my opinion. I’m so sorry.

  6. kd, sorry i’m so behind on my reading… and more sorry for the pain you must be feeling. assuming that everybody else is finished hugging you…

    {{{{{{kd}}}}}}}

  7. Jb is sooo right. You don?t have to feel guilty. You can?t bring him back and I assume you?ve grieved enough. Life goes on, as cruel as it sounds. It may be forever changed but you can?t give it up just because someone else lost his.

  8. Hi Jd, I too have lost and learned to heal, I lost my two Brothers and the pain stays but life does go on. I look forward to hearing from you on this, I would trully appreciate if you would acknowldge this in put! thanks OS

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