Grief is lightning swift. Appearing at intervals that seem random. Overpowering. Agonizing. Then gone as swiftly as it comes.
November 10, 2010 11:41pm
Joe, that is a beautiful grief poem.
November 11, 2010 4:55am
So a couple nights ago I’m up late as usual working on the computer with the TV on in the background–an ancient Trek:TNG episode, “The Masterpiece Society,”–and there’s this one scene that comes on with a piano recital, of Chopin’s Prelude in E Minor, which my mother used to play decades ago; and all at once I start bawling, for the loss of my mom, your mom, Sharon, everything.
Triggers remain where I least expect them.
November 11, 2010 8:27am
Thank you both. It’s a comfort to know I’m not alone in my feelings.
November 15, 2010 12:56pm
those flashes are reminders that your mother is alive in your heart… it hurts now, and that is normal… I hope for you that one day they will be comforting.
take good care of yourself
November 16, 2010 2:43pm
I’m thinking about you a lot. I’m still working on “Whatsoever you do.” I wanted to finish it and send it before your mother’s passing. I agree with Laurel. Your words are beautiful.
November 17, 2010 3:20am
Jennifer, “those flashes are reminders that your mother is alive in your heart” has me thinking deeply about the upside of being so sad so often.
And Natalie, thank you, I dropped you an email.
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Joe Crawford · Software engineer · Indieweb · Toy robot collector · Bodysurfer · Respiratory · Comics making · Peace, love, resistance · he/him
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