Sunday, April 13, 2008


Dear Dazzy,

Sometimes this is how I feel-and this song really captures the vibe that represents my feelings. Wouldn't it be cool if we all could just runaway from our heartache?
I like the line about "...something going RIGHT inside my brain..." I like that idea-and feel like it's where I sort of am right now.

You know me, though, Dazzy-I am much, much stronger than this thing called grief.
While I may feel like just hitting the road, I refuse to surrender -I will not lose this war. I will win in the end.

Didn't I hear you call me your little pit-bull all those years ago? Yep, that's moi.
Proud of it, as well. When I decide to do something....well if I could just decide what to do next, LOL , my problems would be solved. eh?

To me, "No" is simply a challage, not a final decision, LOL

Resilient is the word my grief chick uses. I'll take it.
We have decided to go on a more extended schedule after this week;she says I am really accpeting and ahead of the curve dealing-wise and all of that jazz.
I do have a few session already booked for when I am back from Oz, though. May need them then,may not; not sure how this new can of worms will all shake out, but I know I will get thought it.

I know I will.

This time next week will make a year-a full year-that you have been gone from this earth. I wonder where the time went-it's all fog and quicksand to me.
I came out of it about two months ago, but I still have no clue how I made it through those early, gut-wrenching, pain filled days.
Maybe it was you at my side urging me to go one?

No idea.

I know I did, though, and however I got here, I am almost happy I did. Almost.

What I realize now, however, is that there is a big world out there left for me to explore-and I know that I will be doing more and more as my confidence returns, as my brain engages with the present more than the past, as my heart scars over the gaping wound that tearing you away from me has left.

Scarred is OK. Better than scared!

Did you know that the word "scar" was derived from the Greek word eschara, meaning place of fire?

Wild stuff from those Greeks. They hit that nail right on the head, didn't they?

While scaring can be minimized, it can never be eradicated.
The skin( actually collagen and other protein) that becomes a scar is always different, molecularly morphed as compared to the surrounding area.

It is a visible sign that an injury has occurred.

Widowhood, meanwhile, has no outward signs that you could identify on me.
OK, I am a little bit plumper, but not ridiculously so; I don't cry like I did in the beginning, so my eyes aren't a dead giveaway ( pardon that awful pun) as to what I've been doing all night, and while I still find comfort in being alone at times, most weekends now I make the effort to get out and about.

I should have a scar that starts with my heart and extends light years through the galaxies and universes and to eternity and back-and even then it wouldn't be large enough.

My saving grace now is knowing that death comes to us all, that millions of people have been where I am now-and they, too, go on. If they can-so can I.
I read the widows BB and talk to others that are further out this journey that no one wants to make, and they show me how life does indeed go on.

They get up every day and plan the minutia that goes with living any life-work,food,kids,pets,weather, etc-and they do it over and over and over again, until a new normal is in place, and life has a more pleasant taste, a softer outlook, a more balanced perspective.

I had said in an earlier post that I was soon to be at a tipping point; that I was close to that magic place where the present becomes the past, and the future comes more sharply into focus-and I believe that day is here.

So while running away would be the easiest thing to do, you know me, honey-I would never chose the easy way to do anything, ever-I need more than that.
The challenge is there in front of me , and I will rise to meet it.
I didn't think that would ever be possible, all those months ago, when I came in through the garage door and saw you-I knew immediately that you were already gone-and realized in that horrible instant that our lives would never be the same again.

Death or not, our lives are really never the same form moment to moment.
Knowledge changes that. Love changes that. Fear changes that.

Here's to a future of remembering you, honoring your life, and keeping your flame alive in all of us who loved you, while living my own life as well.

Love you, Dazzy-Always.

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