Cloud Burst

If it's true that I am the sum total of all that I have experienced, then it's fair to say that I am not just experiencing my grief now.  I AM grief.  Father. Brother. Sister. Sister. Friend. Mother.  And now, husband.  My grief is compounded by the relentlessness of loss (it just keeps happening!) and by witnessing the mourning of those I love.  I'm caught in a sad cycle of self-pity-->empathy-->self-pity that will never bring back the dead or make up for the losses.  What do we gain from so much sadness?

It's a cloud burst of grief.  Or, a grief burst, if you will.



I had a pretty good week or ten days.  Life seemed less intense.  The challenges did not seem insurmountable.  I was taking care of business, not too happy and not too sad.  And then the wound reopened suddenly, without anything in particular to trigger it.  Or maybe there was a trigger and I didn't recognize it as such.

Today, I will give in to this.  It's Sunday, so I can stay in and stay quiet.  I will hang around the house wearing yoga pants and no makeup, feeling sorry for myself if that's what needs to happen, until this passes.

This sadness is only made tolerable by the knowledge that it is a squall.  As quickly as it came, it could go.  I also know that it will happen again and again.  I hope that each time a grief burst occurs it will be more brief and less painful.

I miss Roger.  He would know how to snap me out of this.