the geography of my grief.
Bekah's death has been far and away the most excruciating experience of my life. I am convinced that those who are never forced to experience this are truly incapable of really appreciating just how terrible it is. When one loses a healthy child to murder, the grief is even larger, at least early on.
i compare my place in life at this time to be a dark desert, a desert of despair. i am traveling through it, and i must, or subsist in it for all of the rest of my life. there is no choice and no shortcut. sometimes i stall and lay down for weeks at a time, weeping, or just numb just tired of the pain. another bereaved mother stops by and picks me up and helps me past that spot...sometimes i am strong enough to carry another mother who is otherwise too devastated. sometimes a hand is offered and i refuse i do not want to go on, and sometimes i tiptoe past the other prostrate mothers because it is all i can do to put one foot in front of the other.

i have yet to survey the exit point. but i do have hope that i will attain it, and reach a point in my life where happiness feels possible and i can experience joy even if i'm not asleep. writing is probably the single most important activity for my grief "work," though the
support and compassion of other bereft parents and grief counseling are just as vital at least as far as i know. first at writtenbyme and now at thoughtcafe, being a part of a community of writers has also been enormously helpful. and not just with regard to my grief, but with regard to my favorite thing to do, writing. sometimes i actually pay more attention to the writing than the reason for it plus i
am getting feedback on some of my old writing, which i never had enough self confidence to share.

from an email written earlier today
- posted by barbara @ 5/11/2002 03:35:00 PM