Widowed Without A Manual

Some of us grieve longer then others. I will not be rushed out of my love, that still inhabits my heart.

The Waves Come and Go

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This morning I decided to listen to a book I have wanted to read. Re-reading the same lines over and over is not a vey efficient method of getting through a book. The book is called “The Year of Magical Thinking” by Joan Didion. I came recommended to me from a friend, one that is very organized and a career person, she herself a widow. Joan is a writer and therefore has amazing research ability, this at times gives the book a mechanical feeling with all its foot notes etc. As I listen to it I am feeling justified by this I mean she is stating documentation of types of grief and reasons for them. I am I think of the Complicated Grief, pathological, meaning coming from an unusually depended of each other relationship. Well that certainly does draw a perfect picture of B and I.
Joan speaks of Waves that seems to be a common form of description of grieving. This apparently has been described as the emotion and actions of it around the world. I don’t feel so self absorbed when I hear these things. There is more informations reviled like how Grievers often take on the Look, one of extreme venerability, they look naked for they feel invisible. I have felt this often! I have walked around and noticed that I make no difference to others I walk near or sit near. This week I went to dinner with family members. A-M my sister in law is very supportive, and understanding. She brings up my beautiful new painting of great light colours and obvious signs of happiness, hoping to get my sister to bite and actually express verbal interest in my obvious improvement. Oh that’s good, and that was it! I tried to tell them of my locating a space to show but It was skipped over and left to rot at the side of the road like road kill. It is very easy for people to say, For get it, It does not matter. But it obviously does. I wish it did not. I suppose that is why I long to live away in Newfoundland. There I would physically as well as emotionally alone.
There are days like this that I think, Come on Get over It. Its been so very long. But it really has not. It has only been 2 years and three months 24 days 1 ½ hours.IMG_2660

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Author: ilovecloudstoo

I live in Canada though​ I was not born here. Newfoundland is where my heart breathes. Primarily I am a visual artist, welded and or cast bronze sculptures. Sylvia Plath may have been the seed planted in me that is creating poetry. Since then I have read so many great modern poets work. Art is my sustaining business poetry sustains my soul.

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