A reposting.....for someone special.

A reprint....for a very good reason, for a very lovely person, whose heart is breaking, again. Not that I blame her. My heart is breaking again for her.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 2010

Note to you....

...and you know who you are. :)

My Very Dear Friend,

I have trouble, finding words, as you know, to express the depth of grief in which you find yourself; dealing with the twin demons of overwhelming desire to hibernate (only I learned something gross: bears reuse their own urine, so I'm thinking? not a good choice anymore) along with the Flogging Rod, we use, on ourselves, for not being the parent we think we need to be: strong, unflappable, there, for our kids, who are also going through this process. How to find the strength, to someday, even take a breath, as your heart, so shattered, fails to beat, your lungs, not even wanting to draw air - only you have to, because there is no way to walk away, for a week, a month, a year, to fold in on yourself, and let that part of you that did die with him, be buried.

You, are, an amazing parent, warm, loving, strong - even when you don't feel it. Beautiful people can and more importantly may have ugly days, so angry that yes, you throw dishes (or in my case, double bag them and bang them against a wall -they were ugly, I wasn't keeping them anyway!), days you're so sad that allowing kids to find their own way into the pantry qualifies as dinner. Put on your After 5's, even if it's only 3pm. Allow your friends voices to wash over you, on the answering machine, even if you don't feel up to answering - because, really, you need to hear: we love you, we'll never know, how it feels to lose your soulmate; only you know that - the parts of grief some of us do understand? It hurts. A lot. Grief rears it's ugly head in the lightbulb aisle of the grocery store, on a random day in July, not just around the holidays, or anniversaries; mourning the losses, all of them - him, you, you as a couple, your plans, your life - know, honey, the light, at the end of the tunnel, isn't the train doubling back to nail you, it's flashlights of your friends, your loved ones, doing the only thing we can: lighting your way to the other side.

We (and yes, I speak for everyone here, rude though that may be) will never forget him; never forget you. Even when you think you've forgotten you - but then, maybe that was just me.

Ah, yes, my point: call. Middle of the night, when you've a moment, alone, to realize you're so blasted angry this happened to you! That it snowed, and dammit, YOU had to shovel, take out the trash, make sure the oil gets changed, the home insurance is in place - all those things that weren't your job. Regardless of how you got here: Welcome, to Single Parenthood - it comes with the Rights To Bitch on the phone, to eat pop tarts for dinner, and to smell socks to see if they're clean enough for a re-wear. Laughing is okay, I swear - even if it's at all the screw ups in the day - or you were screaming so loudly, home alone, you wet your pants. (again, that may just have been me :)

I'm glad you know I called, that I'm thinking of you, often; keep an eye out, I've a book in the mail to you - I love it. It's a total Fluff Read, but in the middle? When she totally melts down? There's a woman there, who tells her:

Honestly, chicken, you don't have to know everything, just what comes next.

Like putting on your After 5s, popping in a movie with the girls around you, opening up a fresh box of pop tarts, served with those fabulous Fruitables juice boxes.

Love you.

Always.