Now I get it: blogging is cathartic

[*anj*]

I just returned from the wake for our friend's son who died. I was not expecting to be quite this distraught. I mean, I am sad, I knew I was sad. But this goes beyond sadness.

 

The line was out the door, and even then once we walked inside we saw that it wrapped its way through a couple of rooms before reaching the family. They had decorated the parlors with collages of Ryan all through his life. The birthdays, the Christmases, the First Communions, his whole 13 year life arranged so lovingly so that we could share. Now I need to go dig out the Halloween picture that I have of him wearing a black cape and carrying the crazy mask and see him smiling again.

 

I think that sharing this grief may be the hardest thing I've had to do as a mother.

 

And so we came home and while my husband needed ice cream, I needed to type. I needed to pour it out into words on a screen. And now I understand that blogging isn't only for sharing and for showing and for learning. Blogging is also for therapy, for catharsis.

 

So I blogged.

 

Here's what I wrote:

 

How do you prepare yourself for this?

For this kind of loss, this kind of grief?

You've known for months, quite a few months

that this could be the way things would play out.

Yet how can you possibly prepare for this?

 

Mourning a boy is not the same as mourning a man.

The face, the smooth skinned face of a boy.

The freckled, and not yet stubbly face of just a boy.

 

Baseball, swimming, surrounded by teammates.

Running, goofing, clowning for the camera.

Wheelchair, tired, pale, so thin.

Smiling with Jeter

Loving the Yankees

Losing the fight

Losing the grip.

 

And he's gone.

 

And as a mother, how do you do this hard thing?

As a father, how do you stand there?

Brothers, sisters, Gammy, Pop-pop

Aunts and cousins and uncles and friends.

 

We must accept that which we don't understand.

We saw this tornado coming

We felt the earth begin to tremble

But we were not prepared for this.

 

 

Posted by Angela at 8:34 PM 0 comment

[laughing lioness]

What a beautiful tribute to this young man. I hope that at some point you can share that with the family. I love the quote on Roan Inish, "The only real tragedy in life is dying before you are old." You captured that poignantly.

[Amy in Orlando]

(((Anj))) that was beautiful.

 

And, yes, blogging can be very cathartic.

[Lolly]

Angie, this is superb. Cathartic or not, you have a gift.

[*anj*]

Thanks, everyone. I do think that maybe I'll give them a copy of it sometime in the future. Thank you.

[Chelle in MO]

That is precious, Ang. I'm sure you are a treasure to that family and will be even more so in the weeks ahead.

 

Chelle

[Lizzie in Ma]

That was beautiful and I hope it helped and you didn't wreck your keyboard crying on it.

As someone who lost my nephew when he was almost 7, i know I appreciated it very much.

And now, I would be crying in my keyboard. :grouphug:

[threetreasurs]

:grouphug:Beautiful - you have a gift.

[Tammyla]

:grouphug: Tears, but good ones.:grouphug:

[*anj*]

Thanks again, everyone.

We just got home from the funeral/burial/luncheon.

I think that it is really so helpful to go through that whole cycle, you know? The grief is still there, but breaking bread and having a glass of wine (or your beverage of choice) is healing to the soul. And spending time with old friends and connecting...it's the good stuff.

 

Blessed be the name of the Lord.

[Kari C in SC]

What sweet words about this young man! I started my blog a couple years ago because I was still trying to find my way after my sister-in-law was killed. I titled my blog Crazy Everyday Blessings because I needed to find a blessing in everyday. I needed to find good in my life because something so extremely bad had happened. I found it helped me to type out my thoughts. It was and still is very healing for me.

[Gretchen in NJ]

Oh gee anj hugs. I am so sorry.:grouphug: