My therapist is a jewel. She's always interested in what I have to say about what I'm feeling, she may offer a different POV. But she has no investment in my life, no expectations, so it's always easy to do conversational drift with her about things either odd or deferred or boot of iron that I've found impossible to ponder to any sort of resolution. I wish you such a person when you are ready. And meanwhile, solace where you can take it, and strength to get through this, right now.
That does sound lovely.
I think there's definitely benefit in therapy both during times of trauma, as well as after the immediacy of loss subsides....there are so many tasks and overwhelming emotions right away, and the community usually steps up and helps out which is great. Then as time passes and support networks fade back to their "normal," there's the mundanity of having to adjust to a new day-to-day reality. That can be really hard in a way that feels...like something we should just be "able to handle" because we're strong and smart and capable. But it's also an adjustment period that just awful and miserable and can be profoundly lonely.
A good point.
I'm sorry about the potential cousin issues at the funeral, David.
They'll be well behaved. They value propriety over anything. They'll just talk shit behind my back. Oh well, I don't really need to interact with them after this.
What I will think but won't say to Aunt Elene: "I think maybe your hairstylist actively hates you."
So, I met with the Pastor to go over the funeral plans, then went by the mortuary to collect JZ's ashes.
Only sobbed twice. Once in front of the Pastor and Facilities Manager as I tried to describe Jacqueline's "moral elegance." Once when I got in the car with a heavy little bag that was all that was earthly that was left of her.
Nacho update - DoorDash is having a $12 off of $15 order deal today so I am getting $12 nachos effectively free! Also a couple of tacos. I expect it to be way too much food. I was actually kind of absent-mindedly thinking this might be the opportunity to try the $27 nachos and find out what the deal is, but I came across this Coconut Grove restaurant and that's just such a great name (I have seen the sign from the freeway a lot, so I guess their advertising has worked)
And I'd bet you a nice stack of folding money that my dad tries to make it seem like he helps that much when he talks to everyone back home, too. Which bugs, even though being the boomer with the fifty-seven photos of some non-occasion isn't exactly evidence.(Although I laugh at that commercial every time.) If my father put the effort into not *being* a jerk, that he puts into not *seeming like* a jerk, we'd all be happy.
But why do I care, if I don't exactly want to lean back and be somebody's Pretty Pretty Princess who starts the Christmas Countdown on November 1?(Well, it would still be better than the tender mercies of Medicaid...if only just. ) I really love activism, honestly, if maybe not that there are so many frustrating fights to wage, but sometimes I wish I could get e-mails that said "This is not your problem," or "Get something nice for a change,"
Not that I'd feel right about it very much, cause I give a fuck when it ain't my turn.(And one day, even Uncle Al's not immortal. But it's not like I have some wisdom to share, by any means. Cause, you know, the fingernail thing.)
Oh, Hecubus. Would it help more for me to sit with you and feel the feelings, or to call on you to dig deep and find that Hessian fortitude/? Cause I can do either, although the second one is kind of second-languagey. We love you, though.
My grandma lied about scattering my grandpa and made my poor mom, well, find, him, years later, in freezer bags all over the house. Mom was freaked about accidentally sticking her hands in it Which doesn't really match with Grandma being the world's whitest ghetto snob, but whatever. I would vote for going out to what's left of the Salton Sea and scattering *everyone*, but my brother won't have it.
{{{Hec}}}That sounds heavy indeed.
I just heard from my niece. My sister is gone.
Matilda and I were talking about it in the car on the way home.
I said, "I think Judy is close."
And she said, "I feel that too."
There's something to be said about stacking up all your traumas in one day. That day is going to suck anyway.
{{{Hec & Matilda}}} I’m sorry you have to deal with another loss so soon.
More hugs. That is a helluva day
Lots of love to you and Matilda. I don’t know what else to say.
