Why am I such a grump and such a poop? Today, we learned there is good news all around for Clo. And yet, I am exhausted. I think it might well be relief highly combined with disbelief
I couldn’t sleep last night so just took some rest and read all day. I went to the kitchen for wine and left empty handed. We have an unexpected guest for dinner and Clo’s sisters are preparing the food. It smells delicious. I hear French words and laughter. And I want to run away. I want to hide. I want to evaporate. I do not know how to face death and come out laughing. I do not know how to be in public frivolity when what I feel is private, overwhelming grief. Even if Clo isn’t dying now, she will someday soon. If I am not dying, I will someday. Not now. Laugh now. Die later. How do I do that? Today it feels too difficult.
Dinner is ready. I join. I smile. I hurt. I long. I am alive. We are all alive. Now.
I don’t think I hurt. I don’t think hurt is what this is. I think it is profound sorrow. I am grieving for the pain of the planet and I am grieving for the loss of my partner and for the end of life I had planned to live for another 30 years or so. The planet screams. I want to scream. Instead if screaming I try to cry. My tears will soften the hard ground beneath me. And they will soften the tough armour I have put around me to make this part of my journey doable. My tears will eventually cleanse me and heal me and lead me to laughter and take me on the path to joy. Sorrow hides inside me. Sorrow is ashamed to show itself for fear laughter will betray the relief.
I share this because I have the words. I believe others have the feelings and can’t find the words. I will try to do it for us/you/me. My words help ground me. Help me find the softer ground my tears could prepare for me if I would let them. Not time yet. I stand on hard dry earth and wait. Some time I will laugh again. And pray again. And love myself again.