Saturday, June 22, 2013

Random thoughts

September 9, 2009

The live two, or the dead one?

Even though this is a very crass way of saying it, it strikes me that I am torn among my children and who I choose to pay attention to:  the live two, or the dead one.

In many ways, the dead one has been the center of my universe since April 26, 2008, the day of his accident.  Being with Daniel during his last few days, through his death, and into our season of grief has taken most of my emotional and spiritual energy these past 16 months.  Grief has dominated my mind and heart in ways that seem at once both overwhelming and irresistible to me.

The live two – Hannah and Ben – of course have also been on this same journey, though as adolescents, they seem to manage it quite differently and perhaps with slightly more ease.  They seem to be able to also focus on their own lives, on today, and on the future in ways that I do not.

As time goes on, it becomes more obvious to me that Hannah and Ben need more of me than they are getting.  And, in reality, Daniel does not need me anymore, even though my need for him and for processing all this sorrow continues strong.

Thus, the question – the live two, or the dead one – who is going to get more of my attention? 

God:  help me to choose wisely.

September 12, 2009

Weekends:  unscheduled grief

Weekends are harder than weekdays – with a lighter schedule and not as many distractions, I readily and with ease go to the grief subject in my head.  I end up re-living the hospital experience with Daniel, or one of the memorial service experiences, or some other seemingly random memory of a time when he and I were together and he was healthy, vibrant, and very much alive.

It is very hard not to walk around in a state of depression and sadness.  I commented on this to Carol this evening and we acknowledged that we both have this same weekend routine.

We also wondered whether the sense of being broken-hearted ever really will change.  Yesterday’s eighth anniversary of 9/11 included photos of families in New York, clinging to each other and still obviously in active grief over their loss of family members.

Perhaps the human heart is irreparable – once damaged, it never fully recovers.

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