It’s been almost 13 years for me, and I still cry. When I catch a glimpse of a red tailed hawk, when I’m listening to his music, which he gave me and is now mine, when I see him in my children and grandchildren. The missing gets easier, but doesn’t leave. Blessings to you. May their memories be eternal.
To know a storm is coming is it's own kind of anchor. It is vastly preferably to being oblivious. I have been noticing a change in me lately, like what happened after the credit bubble burst in 2008, when my whole world reoriented, in a way that left me more awake and prepared for difficulty. It seems to me like 2007, when there was a lingering sense that not all is well, but most people assumed everything would work out ok. Of course they "kicked the can down the road" then, that can has turned into something like a dragon, and here we are, talking about it. Most people assume it will all work out, we just kick the can down the road again. We know better. That is something.
You make a very good point. That IS something, you're right -thank you. I maybe didn't quite see that before, perhaps seeing it can give me a bit more peace of mind.
I found this the other day and it spoke so deeply to me. Grief is feral, yes indeed. "Grief is subversive, undermining the quiet agreement to behave and be in control of our emotions. It is an act of protest that declares our refusal to live numb and small. There is something feral about grief, something essentially outside the ordained and sanctioned behaviors of our culture. Because of that, grief is necessary to the vitality of the soul. Contrary to our fears, grief is suffused with life-force.... It is not a state of deadness or emotional flatness. Grief is alive, wild, untamed and cannot be domesticated. It resists the demands to remain passive and still. We move in jangled, unsettled, and riotous ways when grief takes hold of us. It is truly an emotion that rises from the soul."
Jul 8, 2022·edited Jul 8, 2022Liked by Jen Slaven-Belanger
YES!!
Many people don't understand this. I think I will add it to the comments to that post.
I like this one, too. In fact, I'm going to add it to my post now.
“"Peace is not something you can force on anything or anyone... much less upon one's own mind. It is like trying to quiet the ocean by pressing upon the waves. Sanity lies in somehow opening to the chaos, allowing anxiety, moving deeply into the tumult, diving into the waves, where underneath, within, peace simply is." — Gerald G. May
Two stunningly eloquent quotations. One of the most paradoxical things about writing is the simultaneous sense that 'there are no words' - how could words, WORDS, encapsulate emotions? - and the deep satisfaction of finding words that do, in fact, manage to translate emotions, a mental state. Thank you both for contributing those bits of prose written so very well.
Gorgeous. You lost Mike less than 2 months after I lost Robb. Robb died Nov. 22, 2014.
I was only with him for 8 years compared to your 17, so he has been gone an equal amount of time now that we were together. He was also much older than me, like your husband to you.
Like you, I cried for years.
I don't know how you found my stack, but I'm so glad you popped by to comment so I could find yours. The people we meet here in this tumultuous time are the best part of it all.
Girls, my heart breaks for the two of you. You both have reminded me how deeply fortunate I am to have the love of my life by my side going on 53 years at this point. My heart goes out to the two of you. Thank you so much for sharing your experiences, they are priceless.
My journey through grief has been one year at this point. I'm grateful that the universe brought me here, as I have a LONG way to go yet to quantify healing at any level.
Hi Jen, thanks for the comment you left me today regarding my wife's cancer. I came over to check out your substack, and this post drew me due to the song lyric. I knew right away it was the Pretenders. In fact, the song is still playing in my head. I am both blessed and cursed with knowing so many songs and lyrics and if a certain phrase comes up in conversation or in a movie, my brain cues up the relevant song.
I'm so sorry for what you have been through. He sounded very special. And he had a great name (mine is Mike as well).
Isn't that funny with the lyrics-thing... it's as if my mind thinks in lyrics sometimes, so very cool to find that there is someone else who has a similar thing.
Thanks for taking the time to read this, hard to believe it's almost 2 years ago that I wrote it.
It’s been almost 13 years for me, and I still cry. When I catch a glimpse of a red tailed hawk, when I’m listening to his music, which he gave me and is now mine, when I see him in my children and grandchildren. The missing gets easier, but doesn’t leave. Blessings to you. May their memories be eternal.
To know a storm is coming is it's own kind of anchor. It is vastly preferably to being oblivious. I have been noticing a change in me lately, like what happened after the credit bubble burst in 2008, when my whole world reoriented, in a way that left me more awake and prepared for difficulty. It seems to me like 2007, when there was a lingering sense that not all is well, but most people assumed everything would work out ok. Of course they "kicked the can down the road" then, that can has turned into something like a dragon, and here we are, talking about it. Most people assume it will all work out, we just kick the can down the road again. We know better. That is something.
You make a very good point. That IS something, you're right -thank you. I maybe didn't quite see that before, perhaps seeing it can give me a bit more peace of mind.
I found this the other day and it spoke so deeply to me. Grief is feral, yes indeed. "Grief is subversive, undermining the quiet agreement to behave and be in control of our emotions. It is an act of protest that declares our refusal to live numb and small. There is something feral about grief, something essentially outside the ordained and sanctioned behaviors of our culture. Because of that, grief is necessary to the vitality of the soul. Contrary to our fears, grief is suffused with life-force.... It is not a state of deadness or emotional flatness. Grief is alive, wild, untamed and cannot be domesticated. It resists the demands to remain passive and still. We move in jangled, unsettled, and riotous ways when grief takes hold of us. It is truly an emotion that rises from the soul."
~ Francis Weller: https://www.francisweller.net/
YES!!
Many people don't understand this. I think I will add it to the comments to that post.
I like this one, too. In fact, I'm going to add it to my post now.
“"Peace is not something you can force on anything or anyone... much less upon one's own mind. It is like trying to quiet the ocean by pressing upon the waves. Sanity lies in somehow opening to the chaos, allowing anxiety, moving deeply into the tumult, diving into the waves, where underneath, within, peace simply is." — Gerald G. May
Two stunningly eloquent quotations. One of the most paradoxical things about writing is the simultaneous sense that 'there are no words' - how could words, WORDS, encapsulate emotions? - and the deep satisfaction of finding words that do, in fact, manage to translate emotions, a mental state. Thank you both for contributing those bits of prose written so very well.
Gorgeous. You lost Mike less than 2 months after I lost Robb. Robb died Nov. 22, 2014.
I was only with him for 8 years compared to your 17, so he has been gone an equal amount of time now that we were together. He was also much older than me, like your husband to you.
Like you, I cried for years.
I don't know how you found my stack, but I'm so glad you popped by to comment so I could find yours. The people we meet here in this tumultuous time are the best part of it all.
Girls, my heart breaks for the two of you. You both have reminded me how deeply fortunate I am to have the love of my life by my side going on 53 years at this point. My heart goes out to the two of you. Thank you so much for sharing your experiences, they are priceless.
My journey through grief has been one year at this point. I'm grateful that the universe brought me here, as I have a LONG way to go yet to quantify healing at any level.
I'm so sorry for your loss. Healing can, indeed, a a very long road.
Monica’s post brought me over to this stack. Looking forward to reading more.
Hi Jen, thanks for the comment you left me today regarding my wife's cancer. I came over to check out your substack, and this post drew me due to the song lyric. I knew right away it was the Pretenders. In fact, the song is still playing in my head. I am both blessed and cursed with knowing so many songs and lyrics and if a certain phrase comes up in conversation or in a movie, my brain cues up the relevant song.
I'm so sorry for what you have been through. He sounded very special. And he had a great name (mine is Mike as well).
Thanks again for leaving the comment. Take care.
Hi Mike :)
Isn't that funny with the lyrics-thing... it's as if my mind thinks in lyrics sometimes, so very cool to find that there is someone else who has a similar thing.
Thanks for taking the time to read this, hard to believe it's almost 2 years ago that I wrote it.
All the best to you ❤️