Yesterday, i realized. About myself. i looked it up. found this. “Compicated grief” hmm.
i kinda realized it when reading about Afghanistan (mostly on this forum). i avoid “news” in general. i see it discussed here.
it dawned on me, most responses are basically outpourings of grief, much of it due to feelings of helplessness to do anything else.
And, my son. My son has told me, “mom, it’s not healthy.” and i know he’s right.
i don’t intend to be depressing and hopeless.
sometimes, taking “the next step” is dependent on first recognizing where you’ve been, where you are. and then stepping forward.
when fictional Anne described her perfect graveyard, it was so endearing.
she was so young, her words were accurate, a young orphan can authentically use those words, children’s lives can be full of hardship and pain, but, as the book reveals, there was so much ahead for her, hopes and dreams. her life became full.
my grandmother was right.
when i was very young, she shared an unusual moment with me, saying, wistfully,
“the hardest part of growing old is missing loved ones who have passed.”
i really had not thot of this. i believed her.
she was overall the happiest person i’ve ever known in my life. she and my grandpa, who had passed.
but they experienced deep aching grief, too. not that i want to think about. i do not want to think of them in pain.
some years ago, my young grdaughter marveled at the happiness of her grandparents! i smiled.
i assured her, “we are happy because you exist,” you are God’s creation.
