The oddness of grief.

This week I can not get my self moving. It is only Tuesday morning so I should not be lumping an entire week into a day and a few hours of feeling meh.  But man, I feel meh in a sort of big way.  The heat has broken so that is no excuse.  It is an overcast day which usually rev me up, but no revving so far. Mostly a lot of meh.  (You know "meh".  It's the adult version of "whatever", or the hip version of general sluggish behavior.  Plus, it's just sort of fun to say "meh". Meh, meh, meh. Meh.) I know I should go for a walk, or something to get my arse moving, but I can't.  Not now anyway.

So yesterday I mention that this bout of *meh* has me a little frustrated and a wise person asked me how long it had been since my mother passed away.  Two months last week.  Well, this person says, what do you expect?  Grief is just going to disappear in two months?  Hmmmmm.  Some people are so darn smart. 

Apparently, grief hangs about for awhile, hiding in the background and then quietly, occasionally messes with the mojo so you get some days of *meh* and forget that something HUGE happened to your heart not so long ago.  Not that I should use grief as a constant excuse not to move my arse or participate in life, but now and then a few days of *meh* are ok.  I'm ok.

Speaking of, the angel-on-this-earth Hospice worker told me once that the words "it's going to be ok" are some of the most powerful words possible.  It might be hard, or painful getting through the rough patches of life, but in the end you will be *ok*.  It will be OK.  I will be ok.  Good even. 

I find this little journey that I walk with grief to be rather odd.  I expected the tears and the times of missing, but the depression (which is what I expect is really behind the *meh*) surprised me.  Live and learn and maybe pass the chocolate.

The tall, what my mother used to call Tiger lilies, are blooming right now,  I was standing on flat ground holding the camera at chest level when I took this picture.  They are SO tall and planted en masse like this they make quite an impact.  In other good news, the lightning bugs have returned to brighten the night hours.  Also, the Japanese beetles.  Always the good with the bad.

Comments

[wenders]

Hi Holly. I don't know if helps, but here are two thoughts -

1. there's a book called "transitions" by William Bridges that I've found really helpful and

2. sometimes just owning the feeling really helps - you know, "wallow" in it so you know it's happening.

Hugs and pink light-
W

[PainterWoman]

Smart daughter. "How to survive the loss of a love" is another good book..OR the Turtle Creek Chorale's version, with the poetry set to music. The Tiger Lilies are terrific.
And give yourself a full calendar cycle to be surprised by tears... We never know what triggers are embedded in our hearts and brains.
PS: Did you see the article on Firefly communication in yesterday's NYTimes?
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/30/science/30firefly.html?_r=1&ref=science