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Three Months and a Birthday

Three Months and a Birthday

HI Jim

I have experienced the 3 month mark of you being gone and I am not sure how I am supposed to feel in the normality of the world of grief and acceptance.    It is your birthday in a couple of days.    All I can say is that I am missing the feeling of being deeply known and accepted by you..the tough guy who didn’t accept a lot of people.    The private jokes and references and language accrued in our moments, the dailiness of your routines, the shared memories that are mine now to carry.   

I think I am supposed to be getting “used to it”…but the reeling from the pain that you are not here still exists. I am doing my best day in and day out.  Every night I ask for you to wrap me.  I am not sure you hear me or do.  Every morning I get up and do what I do!   I do know that much of what is happening around me right now would not be comfortable for you.   You loved production and my production but you scaled it to a meager level.   But, I also know that you would have been “into” what is happening and giving it your all and contributing with your talents and gifts.  I do miss that!    I think we would have been creating the same thing that is being created but it would be a different way.    But, I am aiming to continue to contribute in the same way I would if you were here.    I find myself trying to replicate you…to do things as you would.  I can’t do it as good as you…but I try regardless.

What I realize is that grief resembles depression.  I know enough about health and personal well being that I know the professional diagnostic manual states if a person experiences the symptoms of depression in the first two-three months after a loss, the diagnosis would be “bereavement. But if those symptoms persisted past two-three months, the diagnosis would switch to “depression.”   All I can say is what the fuck….are people really supposed to be “done” grieving after two-three months? Can’t grief last six months or a year—or, in some form or another, an entire lifetime?   

In many ways I am reaching acceptance….and clinically I know I should reach “acceptance”.   But I have moments that  make them feel worse (“I should be past this by now”; “I don’t know why I still cry at random times”). How can there be an endpoint to our love and loss? Do we even want there to be and end point?   I don’t want to be here!  I don’t want to be feeling this.  I don’t want you gone. I continue in the best way I can.

Naturally, I want an end to the pain: Help me not to feel. However,what  I discover is that you can’t mute one emotion without muting the others. You want to mute the pain? You’ll also mute the joy.  The go hand-in-hand

The gardens are rebounding now.  it took me a while to feel good about them.  And, I make dinner (after picking) and think of you a lot.  We worked at setting the stage to make things happen and I miss you terribly.  I miss picking for you.  I pick from the garden and still create for you.   There is a new abundance happening now as I have delved into the crevice of the garden and continue the study of the soil microbes.    I wish you were here, Jim!

I do know how to continue living.  But I am convinced that the agony will last forever. The tremendous loss is heavy—like yours after you lost Ruchel.  But, I trust we all have a kind of “psychological immune system.” Just as our physiological immune system helps our bodies recover from physical attack, our brains help us to endure a psychological attack. I am doing my best and seeing the best in my world.  So, perhaps those heart immune warriors are working for me.    I am strong…perhaps too much so!

On May 7th you’d be 59!   I don’t think you liked growing old.   I think “aging” repelled you.  You had too many dreams and spunk!   And, so, you stopped aging.   Well, we will celebrate you…and I will lift a beer for you in a glass of wine.

I want to desperately apologize to you.  You chose me and with me came a whole (hole) of trouble.    It baffled you as deep down inside, you knew what family was.    And, we let into our world a situation that showed the dysfunctional situation of our times.   I am sorry you were a part of that.     I haven’t heard from Kaya or her caretakers.    In fact, I think Alex cut me off completely and so I rely on others to share photos of her. It is sad…but I continue.    I send little messages to G regularly and I never expect a response nor do I receive any.  I do hear about their world’s from others and I wait for the time of reuniting.  That time will come!   The response will happen when she gets “it”.   Until such time, I just be me…as you wanted me to be.   When I asked you “how can I continue without you?” you said “do what you do and do it well”.    I am my dear!  I continue.   I miss you a lot.   I love you more!

Jim and I….Gemini…which we are in now!

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