Saturday, June 21, 2008

Processing

As you can tell from recent posts we are very much nearing a year since implosion/explosion/lift-off to my next life.

The permission to call the tdh I knew 'dead' has remained the healthiest choice for me, but the grieving process has interesting twists to it. For instance, I can grieve the loss of the tdh I knew (or thought I knew) but would you hear through the grapevine that your deceased loved one is now officially engaged? No. I don't think so.

There are a variety of hurts and still more to come, I'm sure. The words from countless funerals sometimes echo in my ears: "We grieve because we are separated from a loved one and separation hurts."

I find it really hurts not during the angry times (see above engagement reference) or the lonely times, but during the memory times. When you have kids especially there are these serendipitous moments that cannot be planned, repeated or captured. Last night, The Boy and I came home at early dusk from a food festival and then planted the last two tomato plants. As I was cleaning up he saw - and gently captured - his first lightning bug. The amazement and laughter and glee and joy and showing it to the dog and bringing it in to show the cat were just awesome. And I found myself saying quietly, "dammit tdh, you're missing this." And the fact that he is missing it because of the choices he made takes the frustration to a whole new level.

In an earlier post I called myself a fool for caring so much about him and choosing to ignore the signs of his bad choices that were all around me. You all were gracious to support me and remind me that choosing to honor my vows and commitment does not a fool make. Maybe I was foolish, but choosing to turn your back on ten years of marriage, walking away from the one person who had your back no matter what, missing memories both big and small with your child who you once thought might never come to be... now that's a fool.

21 comments:

cheesehead said...

Yes...that is indeed a fool.

(((ws)))

Preacher Mom said...

Some things we will never be able to understand.

Anniversaries are tough. Hang in there.

DogBlogger said...

(o)

(((ws)))

sending love.

peripateticpolarbear said...

And I wonder how TDX will feel when he knows that the dog and the cat got to see the lightening bug and he didn't?

Ah, Willsmama, it all round sucks.

Songbird said...

Same here, same here, same here, same here.
(((ws)))

Sarah S-D said...

(((ws)))

fool indeed, fool indeed. sigh.

Kathryn said...

Yes. They've said it all - but thank you for sharing the lightening bug moment with us. In my strange situation here, the thing I find hard is that someone can be here and not that interested. We ARE. We love you, you see.
((will smama))

Towanda said...

*[

Sue said...

]*

God_Guurrlll said...

(o)

Peace and love,

Crimson Rambler said...

you've named what I could never understand...how the 'x' can walk away from HIS KIDS...something stunted there, I guess. Thank you for sharing the lightning bug and The Boy with us!

mamaS said...

will smama,
you amaze me. tough, and at the same time open to the pain of a crappy situation.
Continuing in prayer for you and boy and all surrounding you!

PK said...

Seems as if you have hit the nail on the head... a fool is someone who walks away... thinking only of self.

It is a always a blessing to read when you post about how much you care for your child... your self... and for those around you. Eons away from EVER being foolish.

(((o)))

Stushie said...

The Church of Scotland has a liturgy which goes something like:

We are not meant for the darkness of grief, but the light we call hope.

God bless.

Mary Beth said...

(o)

zorra said...

Yes, what everyone said. A fool indeed.
(o)

Gracebythesea said...

As my favorite theologian Bart...Simpson says " Although it's physically impossible this both BLOWS and SUCKS at the same time.

mibi52 said...

(o)

Sometimes, it's the little bits of light flying by that make the darkness tolerable.

St. Casserole said...

yep

Identity Mixed said...

It's so weird. When the shit started to hit the fan, the first thing my hubby did was look around and say, "He willingly gave up all of this?" I'll never understand it. Never. In a million years.

seethroughfaith said...

what a lovely think to see though - your son catching that lightning bug - you'll remember that long after the sadness that tdx wasn't part of it.

hugs xx