Now begins my period of discontent.

I found a place to live and I’m very excited about that. I’ll be living with someone who does massage and a person doing her thesis in psychiatry. Right? Could I have ended up in a better place? Probably not.

The problem is that my body chose to remind me today that it’s time to commemorate, to grieve, to meditate on my life, and to give myself another year of closure (re-closure?).  Birthdays, anniversaries of deaths, and memories of some terrible stuff all happen in the next few months. I have to work hard at living in the moment and being mindful. I have to let my body and mind work out some stuff and have a few battles. I have to remember to be kind to myself and to go outside more. Love the puppy a little harder.

“For in grief nothing “stays put.” One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral?

But if a spiral, am I going up or down it?

How often — will it be for always? — how often will the vast emptiness astonish me like a complete novelty and make me say, “I never realized my loss till this moment”? The same leg is cut off time after time.”
― C.S. LewisA Grief Observed


About Sally

It's all about me. ALL OF IT. ABOUT ME.
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