Hi All,
Today I saw a psychic medium. I cant decide if it was smart or sad, intuitive or pathetic but I know that it didnt hurt me and might have helped me. I know that my deep sense of being totally alone and separate from my Dad was somewhat abated at least for thirty minutes. I know that it is a little sad to think that I needed another person to help me with this or that I needed to pay someone to tell me that he is still with me, but I did. I mean I really needed that and I am glad I did it and glad it is over and glad I can take it with me.
I sort of see this experience as me reaching out and I think it is good to reach out. I think it is good to find other people who can help me and I am glad that I am able to do that. I am glad I dont feel ashamed or isolated in this pain. I am grateful for my willingness to try different and alternative things. I am grateful also that people are starting to talk about mental illness more openly and I hope that continues too because it helps, it helps to be able to talk about these things without fear or shame or anything except compassion--for myself, for him.
It is strange how the time is passing and yet the pain remains, constant, dependable. A giant loss. A gaping hole. Time makes the pain more familiar, and not so jarring, or scary. It feels like part of me and not in a super traumatic or big way, just something that happened, another experience, a layer. Sometimes it wakes me up out of a deep sleep, breathless, wait...just wait. I am there on the bridge. Wait. Please. Wait.
I am there saying something. Wait. I am trying a different approach. More compassion. Less desperation. Wait. I am not so attached to the result. I am more calm. Wait. I am not a daughter but just a stranger. Wait. I am trying something new. Wait. I am so close to getting it right. Wait. I am...here...Even in my dreams he doesnt wait. It is always the same. He is gone. I dont see it, but I know it. Even in my dreams I cant save him.
When I wake up I tell myself, I am ok. Acceptance. I tell myself this has happened and it is ok, you are ok, I am ok, and I am. I am ok. I am sad and a little lost or maybe a lot lost but I am ok. I am intact. I will go on. I will be more than I was before, not less. I will hug more. Laugh more. Show up more. Smile more. And, yes, cry more too. I will be and do more because I understand something more. I understand pain more which means I somehow understand love more too. I love my Dad. I love his pain being over. I love what his life meant to me and what it means to me now. And this love it hurts on the edges but in the center it is like all of the other love I have. It is pure and it is good and it is healing. xxK
Today I saw a psychic medium. I cant decide if it was smart or sad, intuitive or pathetic but I know that it didnt hurt me and might have helped me. I know that my deep sense of being totally alone and separate from my Dad was somewhat abated at least for thirty minutes. I know that it is a little sad to think that I needed another person to help me with this or that I needed to pay someone to tell me that he is still with me, but I did. I mean I really needed that and I am glad I did it and glad it is over and glad I can take it with me.
I sort of see this experience as me reaching out and I think it is good to reach out. I think it is good to find other people who can help me and I am glad that I am able to do that. I am glad I dont feel ashamed or isolated in this pain. I am grateful for my willingness to try different and alternative things. I am grateful also that people are starting to talk about mental illness more openly and I hope that continues too because it helps, it helps to be able to talk about these things without fear or shame or anything except compassion--for myself, for him.
It is strange how the time is passing and yet the pain remains, constant, dependable. A giant loss. A gaping hole. Time makes the pain more familiar, and not so jarring, or scary. It feels like part of me and not in a super traumatic or big way, just something that happened, another experience, a layer. Sometimes it wakes me up out of a deep sleep, breathless, wait...just wait. I am there on the bridge. Wait. Please. Wait.
I am there saying something. Wait. I am trying a different approach. More compassion. Less desperation. Wait. I am not so attached to the result. I am more calm. Wait. I am not a daughter but just a stranger. Wait. I am trying something new. Wait. I am so close to getting it right. Wait. I am...here...Even in my dreams he doesnt wait. It is always the same. He is gone. I dont see it, but I know it. Even in my dreams I cant save him.
When I wake up I tell myself, I am ok. Acceptance. I tell myself this has happened and it is ok, you are ok, I am ok, and I am. I am ok. I am sad and a little lost or maybe a lot lost but I am ok. I am intact. I will go on. I will be more than I was before, not less. I will hug more. Laugh more. Show up more. Smile more. And, yes, cry more too. I will be and do more because I understand something more. I understand pain more which means I somehow understand love more too. I love my Dad. I love his pain being over. I love what his life meant to me and what it means to me now. And this love it hurts on the edges but in the center it is like all of the other love I have. It is pure and it is good and it is healing. xxK
No comments:
Post a Comment