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11.10.16

A Year of Pleasures: Change



"i felt myself being pulled more and more strongly in this direction,
with no practical sense at all of how it could come to be.
and little courage to do it, if truth be told.
but i was here after all, in an entirely new place, entirely on a whim?
could you not in fact dream some things into being?"
                                ~The Year of Pleasures / Berg
/ a rose from my garden
It's hard for me to write about anything that's not positive and share beautiful pictures of my days because I really don't want to taint this space, but I also find that I don't share anything when times are hard.

It's been tough. Real tough.
This is the toughest year that I've had since the death of my child. There's no comparison; I'm just saying the anxiety that I feel- the sadness and feeling of loss takes me back to that year.
We are in a rough place right now; a strangely vacant place where we are sharing everything, but, in my opinion, not able to move forward as we've always done before.

And the D word - that dreaded word has come up a few times. The funny thing is, it is the baggage of family that has brought us here, yet, some things that have happened are inescapable. I mean how do you go back? How to you clean up the muck and throw away the bitterness that's been sewn in the fabric of your life? It's in the sheets, on the floor, in the air, behind every single door. It looks back at me in the mirror - tells me it loves me every single day, hold my hands, kisses my hair.
But IT isn't what we want IT to be.
It's hell!

And so I've cried a lot lately. In silence. In the dark. I think this is why my present pain brings me back to the year - that year, when I was so alone and hurting.
My suffering is its own entity. I am in control, yet I am being led by it. I no longer think about how he feels or what he feels. I wish I could say that I do, but I am empty. And yet, I can honour what we have, because I can still speak in the present. And I realize that even when/if I am forced to speak in the past, there will still be many presents, because love and family don't just disappear.

For some reason, this helps me to feel a bit grounded - just a bit. Being grounded (for me) means being able to offer a prayer for him, before I even beg for my suffering to end, because sadly, I realized it has been a long time since I prayed for him - for us. When did I stop? Why? We always prayed for each other.

Now I am summoning the courage to be real to me. I summon the courage to admit to myself - even if not to him or anyone else that I have changed, and I am changing. I am staying present to his story, and my children, and those around me, but I am changing for me.

So there I've gone and tainted this space again, but this is what I have to offer today. I'll try again tomorrow.

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