I was going to go through the hundreds of things I have written over the past couple of years and post something from that. That is the nice thing about when you are consistently trying to do a “regular” thing (ie. every Tuesday) and you are busy. That was not my excuse today. Today I just don’t want to. Frankly, I don’t want to much these past few days. Then I figured, what is the point of being raw and honest if you don’t. So here I am. Continue reading
I spread Jesse’s ashes this past Saturday. Well, that was the idea. What actually happened was a series of metaphors that I cannot and still do not believe happened.
You see, I was ready. I had been ready for about a year to do this, and really ready for about six months. There are a lot of reasons for this. It is such a complicated grief with him that I vacillated between honoring his wishes (which thankfully we talked about after we got married) and taking him out back, digging a hole, dumping him in, pooping on it, then calling it good. Yeah, I know, not one of my more glorious and compassionate thought processes. I figured being in the mostly anger stage of grief recently, I better get him out and honor his wishes. Another reason, in order to allow new energy to come in, you have to let go of old. That is another post for another day. Let’s just say about six months ago, I got there. Continue reading
I wrote this early this year while in my regular coffee shop writing as a little girl was running around giggling in a pink tutu.
I apologize for my staring. I apologize for my crying. I sometimes forget. Well, no, I never forget. You see, I lost my daughter in the most unimaginable way possible. Her father’s mind broke into a million pieces, and he shot her, then himself. I found them. I thought, maybe I can save her. The images that I have vary from when she is alive, to when I found them, to when I was holding her cleaned up body at the funeral home. Now all I have is some of her hair, and her ashes. And memories.
Let me tell you about this child of mine. Continue reading