#4.15.15

[raicheu]

I wish I could tell [him] I loved him and I wish I could tell [you] that I'm falling for you

[harrysootd-blog]

[skinnyminishorthaiku123]

Grief: One Week Later

What’s grief like one week later? I’m not sure. I cycle through the 5 stages constantly. One moment I’m finding acceptance in the flowers, and the next I’m confused as to why it is I will not see her again in this physical form. I get angry, mostly at family trying to comfort me or with people sending their condolences. I cry about the strangest things, laugh and stop when I catch myself. Sit numb, and uncomprehending. My focus sucks. My listening ability almost at a nil. I don’t want to sit still if I’m not at home. I want to move, move, move.

I want to share my experience, because I discovered that it is an important message and also that people find lessons and inspiration in it. I want to be of service, because not only does it keep me sane, but I feel it is time I give back where I receive so much. The support these past 2 years just astounds me. I am so grateful and blessed.

When I kissed my mother’s cheek that day and she did not wake up, that was a moment of sheer panic. When the phone alarm went off to my mother’s ringtone, and I reached to answer it only to realize she wasn’t here, I was thrown off track. When I received the delayed/late voice mail from her, I cried for four and a half hours. I love my mother, and there are times I shout at God to give her back.

I find the most comfort in this one picture where we’re sticking our tongues out at the camera, in the obituary I wrote, and in this small turtle I found in a planter in her kitchen. She loved plants. I wear her socks and her jewelry. I look for the small fairy on my altar. I seek out our photo strip by my bed. I wear her black robe and the blanket I made for her at night.

The strangest things I took, I cannot explain to myself. I insisted on taking a coffee pot out of the many my parents own, and also insisted on taking a broken key chain from Carlsbad Caverns. Many people love coffee, why take the pot? Key chains are… key chains. But grief does weird things to people, myself included.

I bought two cds before she passed away. One was Willie Nelson. The other was Dianna Ross and the Supremes. I thought for sure it was Willie I’d listen to over and over again, but I only played him once- “On the Road Again” to send mama on her way and while in my Uncle’s car that same morning. “Someday We’ll Be Together” by Dianna Ross and the Supremes must be played at least 3xs a day, or else I go insane. Literally. I start to panic.

She was in the process of filling out this Mother’s Memories book for me. The beginning and the end have beautiful snippets, but after the first thumb through of the pages, I now have to thumb through the blank, middle pages fast in order to not fall into a pit of despair. I discovered that her and I share a love of poetry. The last page she wrote upon says, “Being a “mom” has been my greatest accomplishment. I don’t remember too much of “firsts” my kids did, but I do remember the unconditional love they gave me. I remember all 3 of you making me smile and laugh and even cry (when I was worried about their health).”

I believe the weirdest part of this grief, is that much of my life feels the same. It’s almost like when you get up, and you get ready for the day, you leave the house, and you know there’s something you forgot, but you cannot put your finger on what it is. It’s like that.

The hard part is being a part of a grieving family. We all deal with grief similar in that we need time to process on our own. However, we all deal with it different in that while my dad wants to get rid of things right now, I want to hoard things. While my uncle and dad laugh a lot, I inherited my mom’s more serious side (but I can let loose and laugh at times, too.)

I stay sober because I want to, but also because it was her dying wish. I try to smile and laugh, because I know she would want me to. I had my pizza party, because she told me not to stop living my life when she passed. So pizza parties, doctor appointments, taking on service commitments, going on bike rides…

I do notice that I have trouble sleeping some nights, because either grief or fear overwhelm me. At other times I sleep 9 hours, get up for a few, and feel so heavy I have to go back to sleep for a bit. Eating is a challenge to some extent. Sometimes it’s an exhausting process. So much to chew. When out with others, I have only a tiny problem, and not one at all other times. At home, it’s near impossible to make myself eat.

I hate that Mother’s Day is coming up. Exactly one month and two days from the time of mama’s death.

I had a dream of Mama pushing a Wal-Mart cart full of creamer up the hill towards the movie theater. She asks my uncle if she has to do it all herself or what, and he takes over.

I still see her in the flowers and trees, feel her in the breeze.

I talk to God. I thank God over and over for ending her suffering, and providing me with support. I ask that I continue on in sobriety, and that I be granted strength in learning to live with this loss. I pray for guidance.

All the relationships in my life matter so much more to me than they already did. Whenever someone is talking about a relationship in passing, I want to shake them, and make them realize how important it is not to leave anything unsaid, or undone between them. NOW is all we have.

And these are all my thoughts now.

[violettewednesday]

4.15.15

[turnerburns]

Video: The Disco Biscuits ‘House Dog Party Favor’ AURA Music Festival 4.15.2015 [HQ/HD]

[starfuckscafeoriginal]

I feel really gross lately. During that month off of practice I ate a little more than I usually do and I don’t eat great sometimes. About half the time its health foods  but the other half is straight junk and without working out as much I wanted more sweets. I also began eating more when I got stressed or sad and got major cravings, mostly for chocolate. They last for hours or days on end and lately I’ve had a bit around. I had been working out alone at home at night but didnt keep it up well and now we’re only practicing Tuesdays and Thursdays. I wasn’t able to do anything yesterday and will be unable to tomorrow due to being sick and I know its simple to just work out at home for a few hours but lately thats not exactly something I feel like I have. Even wasting a bit of time on here makes me feel guilty and yet I can’t function enough to do a fucking research paper and I begin work tomorrow. One way or another though i really need my stomach to go away because I can’t stand it and lifeguard season is coming up in a little over a month and I would really like to not have to wear my shirt all day. I’m just going to have to find time and try to cut junk.

[sweetestramblings]

You're a canvas, and sometimes you mistake every painter as a Claude Monet or a Vincent van Gogh, when really they're just an imposter with the careless hands of a 1st grader, leaving permanent marks on a now damaged heart.

sweetestramblings 2015 // finger painting

[sweetestramblings]

Sometimes things change like the direction of the wind on a day when your hair is perfectly styled... and you eventually learn to just feel the wind in your hair and stop fighting the things you cannot control.

sweetestramblings 2015 // and so the wind blows