All the while following the grief books and ideas
about "being gentle with yourself," and "taking all the time you
need." And then trying to make it through the time when people
normally have a mid-life crisis anyway but then adding in the death of your
best friend and biggest supporter, which you didn't quite realize until it
happened. So there's that to deal with, too.
The other trait that women in my family share is longevity, which is a blessing and a curse; this means that, at some point, we all end up alone, minus our dudes who just couldn't hang with us for one reason or another (cancer, old age, trees, etc.).
The other trait that women in my family share is longevity, which is a blessing and a curse; this means that, at some point, we all end up alone, minus our dudes who just couldn't hang with us for one reason or another (cancer, old age, trees, etc.).
We all have to learn, at some point, how to unclog a drain,
clean gutters and change a tire. In my case, I also have to learn how to
install a window, install plumbing, hang siding, wire a house for
electrical...again, I digress.
The point here. There is a place for stubbornness. It helps me put my feet on the floor every morning (that and my beautiful child); it helps me continue with the damn tiny house, even though it is hopelessly out of square and everything takes four times longer because of it, and the whole time we are working on it I am thinking about Dane and how he should be working on it, and that's what la is thinking, too, so she kind of stares off into space and makes it very difficult. Stubbornness helps me keep looking. This can't be it, I think. This can't be all.
But I am taking stock, too. Trying to let myself be changed. Trying to be better. It is hard when you are a woman in my family, but it is necessary. I feel like a cliché, and I have to let that roll off my back, too. I don't want to be the same person I was becoming. If I have to run away for awhile to figure out how to let myself come back, so be it.
The point here. There is a place for stubbornness. It helps me put my feet on the floor every morning (that and my beautiful child); it helps me continue with the damn tiny house, even though it is hopelessly out of square and everything takes four times longer because of it, and the whole time we are working on it I am thinking about Dane and how he should be working on it, and that's what la is thinking, too, so she kind of stares off into space and makes it very difficult. Stubbornness helps me keep looking. This can't be it, I think. This can't be all.
But I am taking stock, too. Trying to let myself be changed. Trying to be better. It is hard when you are a woman in my family, but it is necessary. I feel like a cliché, and I have to let that roll off my back, too. I don't want to be the same person I was becoming. If I have to run away for awhile to figure out how to let myself come back, so be it.
For more posts by Suzannah visit her blog.
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