Tuesday, December 08, 2009

December 8, 2009 Forty Days

Behind me is Thanksgiving at the ranch.

The day and the place he made his first call to his doctor saying he wasn't feeling well.

In front of me is month 8 and our 15 year anniversary, and the moment on the 18th when I saw my fear in his eyes that he was sick again...not knowing what kind of sick it would be.

I am in my little hole...

The dark place that breeds depression and familiar internal turmoil. The hole where I wonder why I keep going, missing his voice, seeing no purpose in Langston, Pallas and Ezra.



I am out of the hole, breathing in the winter (LA style which means no flip-flops) and making smart aleck comments to my smart aleck kids. Belly laughing, enjoying and sad that he is missing this too. Even Mr. No-Sense-of-Humor Ezra is laughing.

I can't figure this out. I feel crazy, like I should be wearing house slippers out and skirt that matches my wild, out of control hair. And then like I am a well coifed woman, striding with confidence and diligence, no stopping me.

I need to write, so I will.

Forty Days

I will post every day for Forty Days

I need to get passed these holidays, and birth into the new year fresh and new and wholer and more fragile in my own strength. I need to see what this grieving really looks like. I need to tell you how you can help, not me but others who find themselves locked in this hell.

Forty days I will expose myself knowing that after the forty, I will rise like phoenix...again.

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