People try to say comforting words, share hugs, offer advice & suggestions and all things hopeful. Sometimes that is the very best gift, those words and hugs. Sometimes it's the flannel sheets that I can wrap around myself to feel protected. Sometimes it's the gift of warm water at the hot springs, carrying me in a peaceful current, soothing and gentle. Sometimes it's the gift of snail mail in my mail box. And sometimes it is food in the freezer, allowing me a moment to not think, just heat and eat.
I am really trying to move through grief and hold onto love. Seems like the right thing to do after more than a year, wouldn't you say? Truly, more then anything I want to trust the journey I don't understand. More than anything I want to feel peace and remember 43 years with grateful thanks.
I have a new plan, a rule so to speak. After all this time, I would be hiding in the darkness on my closet floor had I not made some rules.
- After the first couple of months I made it a 'rule' to talk to a human, face to face, every day; a person that had nothing to do with an errand or an appointment.
- That morphed, with the help of my counselor, into doing an act of kindness for someone every day, unasked; a bit like 'pay it forward'.
- And now? As I said above, I am trying to move through the bleakness of grief and hold onto love.
I'm learning to remember. Like stars unseen until the darkness comes, I am reestablishing love. Though my hope flickered out, I am shining light on it and remembering goodness, remembering what it means to be grateful.