Posting again? The pulsating pressure during this last week is relentless. Release, release, release… My mind is on overload.
Distractions … I have plenty, yet none seem to stop me from noticing that next Monday is Devastation Day.
Reflections of this almost one year nightmare:
— I can’t remember most of this past year, which is rather disturbing.
— One word to sum up my life since 8/4/13: devastating!
— The world still turns without my Amy which makes no sense to me.
— People are so generous, caring and loving.
— People who have lost a child are the kindest among us.
— *People are self-centered, shallow and egotistical.
— *People say stupid and thoughtless stuff to grievers — shame on you.
— *People avoid grievers because they do not know what to say which incidentally is hurtful.
— *People are afraid to mention Amy’s name and when I mention her, they change the subject.
— *People drop out of your life after the worst thing that could happen, happens. Toodle-oo!
— *People think I should be over my daughter by now. Idiots. Sorry. If you have no children, well, maybe, you can squeak by under the clueless category, but if you have children, picture living without one of yours for the rest of your life and then we’ll revisit the subject.
* to clarify! some people; not most people.
— Strangers are kind and compassionate beyond my wildest expectations.
— Comfort comes when you least expect it.
— Social media overwhelms me.
— Large groups overwhelm me.
— Bad stuff happens to good people.
— The good die young.
— My friends and I can learn to fold 1500 origami cranes in memory of my daughter.
— My family and friends, as well as many strangers, have helped me to make many comfort/prayer shawls and lap blankets to pass on in memory of Amy to those who need the comfort according to the gentle nudges I receive.
— There are no coincidences.
— I can generate enough tears to cry numerous times a day, every single day.
— Grief is different from depression. Grieving is not a choice and there is no timeline.
— There are no weekends off, holidays, or vacation time when you are grieving. Every day hurts.
— I am still unable to willfully listen to music. Music moves me to tears. Talk radio is mindless chatter and good background noise.
— Food Network, football & baseball games on tv relax me.
— I cannot read a book; grateful to discover audibles.
— There is a room in my house which I have only entered a few times; the door to that room makes me weep.
— There are favorite places I have been unable to revisit for almost one year
— There are familiar streets I have deliberately avoided for almost one year.
— Memories do not comfort me and only serve as a reminder of who I have lost.
— Photos break my heart and make me miss Amy even more.
— I learned about and visited a Medium which was an unbelievable experience.
— I feel like a unicorn.
— The song happy birthday is painful
— Amy is able to send me signs
— There is life on both sides of the veil.
— Believing is essential to my survival.
— Love never dies.
— The word “feathers” is still my special word I share with Amy and now many loving people among me are feeling the love from a feather too.
Feathers, Amy, Feathers.
Always remembering Amy.