Monday, March 2, 2015


Why is it that I cannot describe what I am feeling? Now that the weather is getting beautiful and spring time is arriving I seem to be more emotional and more sad. I am really surprised that the pain has not subsided but seems to reemerge at a constant frequency. I cannot fathom the absence and the loss of David. I still cannot believe that he really died. I hate everything. I do not want to go on at times. I still scream and wail quite a bit. I go through periods of despair. I often want to give up on everything and then I reconnect and get busy doing this and that in order to get distracted from the void and the loss. I seem to have difficulty agreeing with anyone as to how I should feel or what to do and how to live.

 I wish that I was not one of those unlucky mothers who had to bury her lovely son. I wish that my life was more docile and quiet. I wish that my soul was less restless. I wish that I could be me again. I wish that I could see a reason for losing David. I wish that my life was not so bitter. I wish that my heart would heal. I wish that my soul would be filled with joy again.  I wish that my world was not altered so drastically. I wish that I could talk to David and hear his voice. I wish that we would hug again. I wish that we could sit on the deck together and converse as before. I wish that I could see him driving on the streets as before. I wish that he would make me a pizza as he used to.  I wish that I could die at times and yet I want to live at other times. I wish that I could wish the pain away. I wish that I could have something that would cure me from my sad feelings and would restore me to what I used to be before losing David.

 Nothing is going to fulfill any of these wishes. I will go on wishing my life away. Then I think that it is so stupid to grieve. It is not going to change anything. Yet, I cannot help myself. My whole being is revolting. I would be so much better off if I just accept what happened and go on with my life. Yet what happened is unacceptable to me. I thought that children buried their parents and not the other way around. This is backwards. It is against nature. My daughter Melanie always says to me “mom, it is what it is”. She is right, but I wish that “it isn’t what it is”. 

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