Coming to Terms

My aim with the blog has been to be humorous, inspirational and helpful. The reality is that I've been struggling for the past 1 1/2 with sadness and depression. It's hard to be inspirational when I feel like throwing in the towel myself. I was feeling so much better at the 1 year mark that signaled 12 months since the fire and Sue's death but since Dad died a week later, 7 months ago, I've been hit hard again with sadness that lingers and wondering if our choices have been the right ones and where we can tweak and what can we change and the strong desire to move on and away.

I heard last week that an on-line acquaintance lost her son right around the time Dad died and I've wound up the courage to read one of her posts. She writes about boxing with death and how death has punched them and tripped them up but they keep getting back up to fight again. I have felt punched and tripped and like the umph has been knocked right out of me. My patience (what little I had of it) is long gone and I don't want to work on understanding others perspective or feel empathy or have compassion, hear others pain or be cheered up. Often I would just like to be left alone. But that's not right either. The real fact of the matter is that I want to feel better  but I just can't talk myself into it.

And then yesterday, my 16 yo and I went to see Soul Surfer. I literally cried through the entire movie. The themes of loss ond "how comes" and "what ifs" echo my own almost exactly. There is a scene with Bethany and her Dad sitting on the beach and she states, "I've lost everything." And her dad says, "Not even close. You are still alive." And both of those statements sum up my feelings. Which, btw, I have had enough of for one year.  I have had enough of feeling; feeling loss and sadness and lostness, waking up in the middle of the night with "What if''s" and "How comes" and "Whens" clamoring in my head. I would like a resolutory clarion call from God that says, "Well done. Now, go here, find the treasure, spend wisely." I am so not kidding.

It's odd to me, when I have moments of clear perspective, how rocked I've been by the loss of 1/2 of my family of origin; 60% of what it was- gone. We operated and believed different world views, values and life styles. And yet, still, blood is thick. Family doesn't go away no matter how stridently they try to drive you from them. They are in your blood and your head, defining you, whispering memories and legacies and hopes and dreams; conjuring up feelings that were long buried and that accuse, confirm, deny and claim.

I dreamed of Sue this week. She and Kris and I were walking down a boulevard holding hands and fair weather friends separated us. We walked back towards each other and held hands again and I said, "We've always stuck together."  And I feel un-stuck now that my big sister is gone. Unloosed and unfettered and unmoored. And with Dad it's almost been worse. The feelings of "why this" and "not that," and "how come" and the lack of resolution have been hard to quell. I've been sad because death is resolution. There is no last chapter, in this life anyway. The last chapter's been written and the ink has dried. And I feel like I've lost everything in that quarter. My hopes, dreams and prayers for what could have been, ripped away. Death stole them and Dad complied.
I've had a hard time coming to terms with that. Coming to terms with unfulfilled hopes, dreams and desperate longings. It's immature of me, I know, and yet there it is. I'm struggling to come to terms with what.is.right.now; finality's, frailties. I wish I wasn't. I wish I was calm and clear headed and at peace and wise and mature. But the reality is that I've been a big baby and rather distracted.

I havent' lost everything. Hardly. My life is full of good and beautiful things and people. And this season will pass. And a new one will be here soon enough.