I guess I will start then.
This week, my whole nursing experience has been about death. It was a great kick-off to a monday morning for two hours; the lecture was about grieving. It made me think a lot about my mother and how I grieved for her life. I grieved for her childhood, for her first miscarriage of a marrigae, and then for her lack of existence amonst my life. Knowing that she died, choosing her own death puts a bullet through my chest. An exercise was given to us in class: we talked about an expereince where we grieved, and what it felt like, if we could change anything. Lamenting that if I knew what was going to happen to my mother, i would have told her to stop for us. i would have told her that she was selfish, and that i thought she was worthy of God's love...and my love. As I dwell more and more upon the manifestations of her demons, I see more and more of their destruction and their effects on her interactions with people. I also see the same demons in my own life...which terrifies me. She had once known God's love; and it made her beautiful. I remember looking at pictures of us as a family, and you could see the life and hope in her eyes when she was sober. Trying not to be cliche, but she was a, "beautiful disaster." She could see God's love and how real it was, but she could not let herself succumb to it. She was strong enough to see beyond the past, yet she was too scared to let herself fall away and be reborn into something awfully beautiful.
So I guess when i greive, i see all of what could be. All of what was. and all of what is; what is left over; what is yet to be.
this post was for yesterday, the 9th of March.
the aftermath: we were the lucky ones.
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