Not Sure What To Say...

Rarely in my time as a paid writer and sometime-editor was I at a loss for words. With the death of my friend of whom I've written in several posts, earlier in the month, I'm finding it difficult to speak or write about a growing knot of complicated feelings. While some of these have to do with her specifically, the majority appear related to past losses, and particularly with the issue of repeated losses in a relatively short span of time.

Though my outer life may look calm to those who do not know me well, inwardly I roll from tears of sadness to anger to numbness and back again. My understanding of this cycle is that it is normal for those grieving a loss. Further, one loss can open a veritable Pandora's Box of emotions concerning past losses, whether they involve people, pets, unresolved situations or relationships. Add to this that most folks are ill-equipped to provide effective support and offer only the barest kindness or suitable verbiage to a griever and the whole thing soon becomes about how quickly one can escape to silence and the comfort of a cup of tea, a distracting book or their bed.

If I hear another well-intentioned, "Be strong," "You only get as much as you can handle," or "Your friend is in a better place," I may hurl the offending party or myself out of the nearest window, and make no mistake, though my legs are shot, I can easily benchpress over one hundred pounds, though such a sight would hardly be pretty and might attract very unkind attention.

Having no wish to be overly intrusive to my friend's family, there are also few mutual friends to whom I can turn at the moment. A lunch has been planned so that those of us in my area can meet. I have agreed to attend, more to memorialize her than to peer into a sea of unfamiliar faces, most of whom I've possibly only heard of in passing. For an introvert, such an undertaking requires thought, preparation and a steeling of reserves. I'm not sure who is co-ordinating this or who will show but it should be interesting. I'll be in the company of a total stranger who generously plans to pick me up and who asked at the end of our too-brief conversation whether I was up for the adventure.

Somehow, my formerly oft-uttered comeback of, "It isn't cancer and won't kill me," adopted following the passing of four of my family members from cancer, seems grossly inappropriate. Beyond this post and the paper pages of a bound journal, I'm keeping responses to a minimum. Dark-humored, especially in times of stress, I find that my reserves are now fumes and have no clue how to re-build them.

For those who will celebrate time with friends and family this Thursday, my best wishes. I'll be with two happily married gentlemen and various of their kith and kin.

Until Next Time...