And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten, the cankerworm, and the caterpiller, and the palmerworm, my great army which I sent among you.
Grief is such an interesting process. It really isn't an emotion, but a spectrum of emotions and sensations. I've always been really good at ignoring things that I don't want to penetrate my consciousness. But grief pokes it's head through the defending wall and strikes at my heart when I least expect it.
This time those moments of unspeakable sadness, of awareness of my own mortality, and knowledge that we are held together body, soul, and spirit by only a fragile invisible bond are less intense than when Victor died, but intense enough to interrupt the flow of my daily routine.
I knew that my grieving for Jeannie was compounded by the remnants of grief over Victor's death. Sunday night I slept fitfully. My nightmares were of being young and in prison. I painted the prison walls bright yellow, but still I couldn't get free. In the next dream, I was old and homeless, searching among the garbage behind restaurants for dinner. There was no logical explanation for this sudden episode of depression. On Monday morning, I dragged myself to school by sheer will power. Once there, however, I did fine. I was able to be effective with kids, even managed to get some things filed.
I had no explanation why Sunday evening was so difficult until tonight's reflection when I made the connection with Victor's death. Following the thought that Jeannie's death affected me so profoundly because I still hadn't recovered from Victor's death in February, 2006, I checked the calendar. Sunday was Feb 22, the third anniversary of Victor's death.
Recognizing the problem is half the solution. So now that I know I've been caught in the web of grief upon grief, I can deal with it.
Grief triggered by an anniversary is fairly common, even when it's not recognized. Seasons of life evoke reaction, albeit involuntary. So I shall have to set aside a few days in February each year to celebrate the life of two dear friends, one of whom died with my liver. Jeannie's death has reminded me that I have goals yet to be met. Things to do.
3 comments:
Hi Pj, sorry for your friends loss, try to remember the great times and happy moments you and your friends in the past and bring yu a sweet memories:) don't you think is a better way to remind you how beautiful they are your friends in your entire life?
XOXO
Zoe
Oh, btw i love the colourful blog of yours so much! Spring is on the way and your blog just so spring feeling hehe! Cheer up ok!
XOXO
Zoe
So sorry for the loss. You are right, though, about anniversaries triggering things without realization. I got phone calls from my son who is living with my dad, the ladies who clean my dad's house, and dad's girlfriend one day last year. They were all the same. He was not himself and he barely got out of bed. (My dad, at 78, still gets up and makes coffee at 7am every day). I was really worried when I happened to look at the calendar. It would have been his and my mom's 45th anniversary. She has been gone 15 years but it still knocked the wind out of him. The next day he was okay.
Post a Comment