I don't really know how to articulate my response to this visceral, beautiful, haunting piece of writing. I can only imagine the strength it took to write it. I'm in awe of your ability to take this glimpse into the dark and articulate the feelings and sensations of your grief so palpably. "Preposterous outcome" so accurately describes the unfathomable nature of this tragedy. "I wonder when I’ll be able to look back through a filter that highlights all the good elements and throws the grim parts that ruin the composition into complete obscurity." I'm really glad we got to share in those good elements together and I hope that those good elements will, over time, take up more and more space in your memory, eclipsing the prominence of the grim parts. I think we all wish for the kind of filter you imagine.
"The period After Death has left me fragile, fearful, weak. I’m an unconvincing simulacrum of my former self." I think some of us can be really hard on ourselves when we feel broken, sad, when we're grieving. I know I have a tendency to be somewhat unforgiving to myself in hard moments, perceiving the moments where I've been unable to get over my sadness (in whatever situation) as a kind of failure. Somewhere in my experiences I learned to equate sadness with failure. I don't know you well enough to say but I will wager a guess that you are not as fragile, fearful, weak as you may think you are. You've made is through these 9 years. That takes unbelievable strength. Writing and sharing this piece takes unbelievable strength. Raising kids takes unbelievable strength. For whatever it's worth, you definitely don't give off the aura of someone who is a shell of their perceived former self. There is a vibrant, loving, creative aura around you. And I like to think I'm really, really good at reading people (triple water sign! lol).
I hope some of this makes sense. I hope sharing this piece is a positive experience for you. Sending lots of love!
Tranna, sitting down with you after all these years, and being able to talk about what I generally hide, more or less successfully, from everyone else was a godsend (small g, but for lack of a better expression... :) Thank you so much for your words, here. They're making me emotional, in a wonderful, uplifting way. It's such a struggle to contend with the solitude and self-flagellation that comes with suffering. You're right - I do equate sadness with weakness, fragility and ultimately failure. Why do we do that?? I hope I can move onto the good stuff on a more regular basis, like I was able to do with you. Takes work (goddammit :) but there are events, occurences and people I can draw strength from when I feel like my own is failing me. Like a chance exchange over coffee with a brilliant, sensitive woman who reminded me of the best parts of my mother, which had gotten buried under the hurt. You helped me look back with a new filter. My deepest, most heartfelt thanks. xx
Lianne, that means so much. Please don’t thank me, but know how meaningful it was to share those memories with you. She was an extraordinarily fabulous woman. I truly feel so lucky we got to connect and thankful for the beginning of this unexpected friendship. I really think you’re amazing 💜🌈
Beautiful, raw, and moving--there is a haunting quality to this piece, Lianne, but such is the nature of grief and loss (especially one of this kind). It impossible to truly escape the imperceptible clutches of this type of pain and mostly likely hard to even put it into words. You managed to utter the unutterable and to voice your sorrows in a moving and meaningful way. Pure and powerful prose!
Jess, thank you so very much. I'm so grateful to always be able to count on your support, on your empathy, on the validation of what I'm trying to do here by manipulating these difficult, inadequate words on a page. Also, I'm extremely happy to take the praise! :)))) You know how much it means, coming from you! xx
I don't really know how to articulate my response to this visceral, beautiful, haunting piece of writing. I can only imagine the strength it took to write it. I'm in awe of your ability to take this glimpse into the dark and articulate the feelings and sensations of your grief so palpably. "Preposterous outcome" so accurately describes the unfathomable nature of this tragedy. "I wonder when I’ll be able to look back through a filter that highlights all the good elements and throws the grim parts that ruin the composition into complete obscurity." I'm really glad we got to share in those good elements together and I hope that those good elements will, over time, take up more and more space in your memory, eclipsing the prominence of the grim parts. I think we all wish for the kind of filter you imagine.
"The period After Death has left me fragile, fearful, weak. I’m an unconvincing simulacrum of my former self." I think some of us can be really hard on ourselves when we feel broken, sad, when we're grieving. I know I have a tendency to be somewhat unforgiving to myself in hard moments, perceiving the moments where I've been unable to get over my sadness (in whatever situation) as a kind of failure. Somewhere in my experiences I learned to equate sadness with failure. I don't know you well enough to say but I will wager a guess that you are not as fragile, fearful, weak as you may think you are. You've made is through these 9 years. That takes unbelievable strength. Writing and sharing this piece takes unbelievable strength. Raising kids takes unbelievable strength. For whatever it's worth, you definitely don't give off the aura of someone who is a shell of their perceived former self. There is a vibrant, loving, creative aura around you. And I like to think I'm really, really good at reading people (triple water sign! lol).
I hope some of this makes sense. I hope sharing this piece is a positive experience for you. Sending lots of love!
Tranna, sitting down with you after all these years, and being able to talk about what I generally hide, more or less successfully, from everyone else was a godsend (small g, but for lack of a better expression... :) Thank you so much for your words, here. They're making me emotional, in a wonderful, uplifting way. It's such a struggle to contend with the solitude and self-flagellation that comes with suffering. You're right - I do equate sadness with weakness, fragility and ultimately failure. Why do we do that?? I hope I can move onto the good stuff on a more regular basis, like I was able to do with you. Takes work (goddammit :) but there are events, occurences and people I can draw strength from when I feel like my own is failing me. Like a chance exchange over coffee with a brilliant, sensitive woman who reminded me of the best parts of my mother, which had gotten buried under the hurt. You helped me look back with a new filter. My deepest, most heartfelt thanks. xx
Lianne, that means so much. Please don’t thank me, but know how meaningful it was to share those memories with you. She was an extraordinarily fabulous woman. I truly feel so lucky we got to connect and thankful for the beginning of this unexpected friendship. I really think you’re amazing 💜🌈
I feel exactly the same and am so thankful you reached out. ♥️
She was pretty darned fabulous, wasn’t she? :))
Beautiful, raw, and moving--there is a haunting quality to this piece, Lianne, but such is the nature of grief and loss (especially one of this kind). It impossible to truly escape the imperceptible clutches of this type of pain and mostly likely hard to even put it into words. You managed to utter the unutterable and to voice your sorrows in a moving and meaningful way. Pure and powerful prose!
Jess, thank you so very much. I'm so grateful to always be able to count on your support, on your empathy, on the validation of what I'm trying to do here by manipulating these difficult, inadequate words on a page. Also, I'm extremely happy to take the praise! :)))) You know how much it means, coming from you! xx
In your court (tennis...law...royal...) always! 😘
😙