more and more, this seems to be about death, loss and sadness. i am not happy with this, nor do i think anyone in their right mind would be. but a journey takes you where you go, not always where you want to go, and you can only make the most of it, try to be open to the lessons and in the end there's always the next place, the next landmark, and maybe it will be something different.
i debated about going to TF's mother's funeral today. i really didn't want to, as i am still heavy with the sadness from my aunt's passing. i think about Celine Dion, losing her husband and her brother in the same week, and i can't even imagine her state of mind right now. and i'm not comparing, but i'm saying grief is heavy, and grief compounded seems to synergetically increase. what remains is small spaces where you draw a breath, hope that it's enough air, and get back to trudging.
so i got up, with difficulty in prayer because my sleep has been shitty. meditation and ambient noises haven't been helping. some loneliness, some irritability, some racing thoughts. anxiety, night anxiety. i have things that i need to take care of that i may not be able to, and like all worries they gain power at night. so it wasn't an unwillingness to pray, as i did try, but the prayer was disjointed and incohesive, and in the end i wasn't satisfied with it.
i didn't go to the gym, as i was sleepy from not getting any good rest. i found Syd on the living room couch sick. she didn't have school so i sent her in her room. i took my insulin, had breakfast and then took my pills. i didn't do much else. nothing that was worthwhile. i tried to finish the book but that didn't happen, but i'm almost done. i'll probably order it from the library, going to take it back to VF at counseling tomorrow, so i don't forget it when she needs it. i nodded a couple of times, and i made pizza for lunch. i'd gone to the store to get stuff to make a tray of sausage, onions and peppers for TF's house for after the funeral, so i knew i'd at least have to go deliver that. Syd's friend came by after a point, and i wrote and i watched some television and read some more. i started working on the foundation for a soup, as i was finishing the roaster for TF. i eventually got dressed, went west and dropped off the pan at TFs house, then i went to the funeral home to say good bye to her mother. I didn't stay for the service. watching my friend and her daughters weeping was a bit much for me. it was interesting, the difference in services. my aunt was in a baptist church where 99 percent of the people were black, there was singing and a choir and poetry and the organist played the entire time. my friend's mother was at a funeral parlor in Austintown, where there were few chairs and some kind of grieving Muzak piped in. but grief, truly feeling a space where someone that maybe you took for granted or didn't have as good a relationship as you wanted to and now its too late, truly feeling the emptiness of all that you had in you that you gave that person, trying to will them to live, to health, and knowing that it didn't work and they took that part of you that you gave them with you to whatever eternity they found themselves in, that is the same wherever you go.
i'm traveling through a sad, sad pocket of space. i really hope i leave it soon. i don't need happy, an absence of sorrow would do for now.
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