mistakes in grieving

a few days ago, i made the mistake of watching an old video of J and I bickering .. but, the way we always did... a fun, sarcastic banter between us...and, it made me laugh. of course, it also reminded me of how special it was that we had ... and how i never had this kind of chemistry and exchange with anyone else. it reminded me of how unique he was.

people feel compelled to tell me that love will come again and that i shouldn't close myself off. but, i am not big on relationships .. and, i think, this was it for me. sure, i could have other relationships one day but why? 80% of relationships are work, sacrifice, compromise, and general annoyance, aren't they? at least, that's how i perceive it.
with J it was different, even though, all these things were part of it, too. the difference was that i loved him so madly that it all didn't matter and was worth it. perhaps, i am romanticizing my relationship post-mortem. there is a chance that i'm doing that. it's a coping mechanism but, i suppose, it's a virtuous thing to remember only the good things about a person after they die.
then again, i don't only remember the good things. i remember all the bad sh-t, too. only, it makes no difference. just as it made no difference when he was alive and i was trying to convince myself that it should.

anyway .. so after the initial fun i had with watching this video (and another, in which he is rapping to a song on the radio as he is driving the car on a warm summer afternoon in the city), i later ended up in the fetal position on the floor, crying my eyes out, barely able to contain myself. i hadn't lost it like this in a while... in fact, i thought, things were getting better. after seeing his daughter two or three weeks ago, i had been feeling so calm.

it's always the same, i think i'm safe and i have made it through the worst, and then it gets you again, the hammer of grief .... for the lack of a better analogy. i like to refer to it as the strangling grip of grief but, really, it's more like a hammer coming down on you, out of nowhere, knocking you off your feet as you stand there unprepared. .. or another suitable tool analogy would be that squeezy apparatus .. i don't know what it's called.

anyway, so since then i've been feeling pretty low. yesterday morning, i reached out to a friend, but, it may not be a good idea to tell all your friends how there is nobody who can compare to the company J was to you. how there was noone you would have rather spent your time with. how he was the funniest person you knew.
... basically, i am telling everyone that their company is sub-par.
sigh. ... i must stop that.

what is this life for? if love is so important, why was this one taken. then again, the love is still here. he is gone. and from his departure, new love sprang. between all the people he left behind. ...

achh -- i hate it when i get all kumbaya and pseudo-wise/insightful.
it's annoying.
i'm angry.

kids are the answer to our sorrows

for some reason, the past week has been hell.
actually since his birthday last month, the grief train took a downward turn again (as in .. you know .. it goes up and down like a roller coaster. man, i'm tired. i'm gonna have to come back to this later to edit the lyrical nonsense i'm spewing right now.)

anyway, on thursday i actually yelled at myself all the way as i was driving to work. i was crying again, missing him so much .. and it just pissed me off. "STOP f---ing crying already. STOP!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs as I shot down the highway. "There is no freakin' point in crying! No point! What is the point?! Stop feeling sorry for yourself! YOUR LIFE IS GOOD. People all over this world have way worse to suffer. SHUT UP already!" ... For some reason, that made me break down even more. As if the realization of this made me feel even worse. Or maybe I cried more because I realized that none of these facts helped in my recovery from this pain.

But, today, I came to the conclusion that there are things that assuage my suffering. At least, it is a theory, for I feel balanced and alright today. Maybe it was just my hormonal state last week (remember my hormone balance - grief relation theory?) .. but, I think, what was balm to my soul this weekend was having J's mother over for two evenings (Thu, Fri), and then seeing his daughter on Saturday. She turned 8 years old and the celebration was a small get-together in the park with his ex-wife (who remarried and is pregnant again), her best friend and family, as well as J's mom and one of his sisters, plus the kids.

It was a lovely afternoon but most joy I experienced by just watching his daughter smile, laugh, and play. She is such a sweet kid, so much heart, so smart, so considerate, and just such a shining soul. And through her, I also saw him shine. That is a little piece of him right there. And so is his ex-wife, .. his high school sweetheart. She doesn't like to talk to me about it but, I know, she loved him deeply and this must have been a great loss for her, too - despite the fact that their marriage ended almost seven years earlier. So, when I see her, I also see a piece of J. A piece of his love is with her and that means she brings a little tranquility to me, as well. As much as she may despise me at times (I don't know if she does, but I have a hunch that maybe sometimes she does. We knew each other while J and she were married and, although, J and I came together after they split up, she may have suspicions of earlier activities. It's only natural. It's the doubt in our heads. Life's bad experiences. I don't know.) ... But when I see her, I have love for her because she is being a wonderful mother to that kid of J's. And she could shut me and my kids out completely, but she makes an effort not to. And that's big of her.

I love that child like my own because I loved J. She was only a baby when our patchwork family began to sprout. It's really amazing what can become of a family that's split apart if all involved parties are open to different reconnections. It can become a beautiful tapestry of people, diplomacy, forgiveness, and love - and the recipients of this love, tolerance, and connection are all the children involved. My kids may be children of divorce but they have seen only cooperation, helpfulness, and good-will from me (that's not to say that I haven't had plenty of moments of frustration or anger about their Dad, but I have kept them hidden from the girls). I have never spoken badly about him, nor have I insisted that they can't call their new step-siblings 'brothers and sisters' or their Dad's girlfriend 'stepmom', even though all that took time to get used to. I had nothing but support for the fact that their Dad, last year, announced he had another child [from a few excursions during the months of finalizing our separation]. It wasn't easy - because I'm a narrow-minded adult now - but, at least, I was able to remind myself that, to the kids, this was just another little sister (yeih!).

Life is about love. It's true. And while I may have lost my romantic love - that man, who I would have died for - I still have plenty of love all around me and I try - very hard - to focus on that, remember it, and appreciate it. And maybe - one day - this pain will be nothing but a memory. A scar. A thought about light, passion, and love. A sliver of hope for a reunion one day, when it is my time to go.