It's been a long time since I've posted. Things are very busy, and although I thought the Estate was closed and all duties completed, some last minute things popped up and threw me for a loop, simply because of my state of mind. It felt like the wound was re-opened. I was traumatized by having to gather the documents (which required going through the entire file cabinet...a memory behind each folder, each receipt) and the paperwork for me to do--giving instructions to my (now) financial advisor...Too much. Let's complete the Estate work, and then I need a little time to let that go before I really accept that this money is mine to invest to spend, to donate, whatever. This is stressful.
I"m staying in the moment of each day, and grief is a part of it, even a year out. I am changed forever, and I am finally beginning to think it is in a good way. I couldn't have said that even six months ago. I am still feeling devastated about my dad's death. I cry almost every day, but I can get through the school day without breaking down: this works because of established rules of conversation topics.
Getting ready to head out and meet friends for spring break. I warned them, even with FB, that I look dramatically different because of the weight loss. Now considered an eating disorder, grief -related. Losing 30 pounds in the year following my father's death. Too sad to eat is an over- simplification of this deal. I have vivid memories of my father not being able to eat, and then too, when his body stopped accepting food. This was a profound experience. Do I want to follow him?? No, nothing like that, but it affected me in a way I cannot describe. Husband, doctor, therapist, and aunt have all mentioned their concern. It's not that I am starving myself. I am not hungry. My "team'" has me eating one meal a day. And it feels strange. There is an emotional component to it and I will be reflecting on this as time goes by. Coffee in the morning: a must have. Water through the day: on it. Juices in the evening are calming.
I may have to do the Ensure thing for a little while, to get some nutrients that I am missing. I'm told my appetite will return as my grief changes and moves into another phase. I am letting Grief take the wheel and lead me through this. I've been places I've never expected, and this is just another stop, I guess. I admit that I look thin, and I believe I'm expressing my grief in this way.
I honestly don't know what more to do, except seeing my staff of doc, shrink, fam and listening to their advice. I will make it, eventually, to a lighter-hearted place, but for now, I settle for light-hearted moments. I have a marvelous husband, soul-friends, and two cats that I adore. My sister and her family, too, and keep hoping we'll become close because it's very important to me. One thing at a time, though. Or else I crumble and crawl under the covers. I look forward to the day when there is no more mail addressed to my father coming to my house. I don't need the reminder.
Nighty night, friends.
- In this blog I have created a haven, a place I allow my deepest emotions to go and sit. I can write easily about what I’ve accomplished. This biography I can recite in my sleep. But I’ve always written poetry and in diaries since I was a teenager. I continued to write poetry in my journals, and not until 2006 did I show them to anyone. I generally write every day, at the present in memoir form. I haven’t written poetry since my mother died in January, 2007. I didn’t write at all between her death and the death of my father three years later in January, 2010. On my father’s birthday in March, 2010, I began this blog, to honor my father and to help me grieve. But I also desperately needed to write, and this stream of conscious style emerged. I needed to find my organic voice.