The Portal: Portal-ity Thoughts

 Dear John, I've wanted to let these words out for a while now, they've been burning inside my head, and at 1:38 a.m., they need to be set free.  I haven't been sleeping well.  Obviously.  The audible books and medication can't keep out the thoughts lately, and it seems that the window of 2:00 - 5:00 a.m. has become my nemesis.  I think the culmination of triggers lately has pushed my brain into a frenzied state and it's going wild at night.  The sadness, guilt, and frustration are at their peak in the wee hours and I am subject to their mercy. The current trigger, in addition to Grandpa's death, was being told I was "handling it well".  Handling the death of my father WELL??  Indeed, how does one handle death well?  Do you have any idea what that day was like?  Read on. I am assuming what was meant was I am handling it with a startling lack of emotion.  If they only knew.  Yes, outwardly I am going through the motions and ever...

Hey John, do you know what's different about year six? It falls on the same day. Heads up for those of you behind me in the nightmare.  It's very weird and it brings it all back in a strangely chronological way.  I don't know how to explain it, and I wasn't expecting it. Tonight, as I sit here, I remember you coming in from the field, you and I cooking dinner together, and that extra long hug you gave me in the hallway. I miss those hugs so much. What could we have done differently? If we would have known what the morning would bring, what could we have done?  The morning of November 4 changed our lives forever, it changed a lot of lives forever. This year feels so much like that year, and not just because it all falls on the same days - but the weather and the days leading up to tomorrow have just felt so dark. I am half expecting to wake up to flashing lights, badges, and EMTs.  I went to Frieda's today with my dear friends from Bible study. They have embraced...

The Crosses Life is hard.  If you're here, you probably already know that.  You've experienced a devasting loss, diagnosis, or trauma.  It's inevitable.  I wish it wasn't, but friend, this isn't Heaven.  We live in a broken world and it seems like the trouble is getting worse, the darkness darker, and the hope that we so desperately cling to - well it can seem like you're hanging by that last nail.  Are you waiting for rescue?  Help?  Yeah, me too.  Today seems especially dark.  I've heard a lot of hard news lately and it wears on your soul.   I can feel like the darkness is winning.  But Jesus.  I wish I could tell you that it'll get easier.  That the darkness will subside and all your days will be sunny and bright. I so wish that for you.  But for those of us with a few years on us, we know that people die, wars are fought, tragedy strikes and conflict and strife abound.  Jesus said, "In this world, we wil...

Every year I go through the same thing.  I argue with myself for weeks about this day. Say something, don't say something.  Do something to commemorate it, hide in the house.  Share it, keep it to myself.  See if anyone remembers - don't be a jerk.  So five years of it, and I always end up here.  On the keyboard, dishing out my words.  I guess I need it.  When I logged into Blogger I was shocked to see that I had only blogged once since Year 4.  Sometimes I just post on my Facebook page - Portality Thoughts . . . I do a shorter version, but wow.  The blogging has really slowed down.   I think you get to a place where you just keep it inside.  After all, it's been literal years and it's not forefront on anyone else's mind (sans family).  And then I think, but this is my story.  My life living without him, and I remember how grateful I am that I documented it - because to be honest, grief can be a real memory stealer. ...

Dear John, 1599 days have passed since we lost you.  I miss you.  I can't put into words how much I miss you.  It's a ripping, a tearing, a knife through the heart kind of missing you.  I dreamt about you last night.  Somehow, a bag of your things showed up and there were two shirts in the bag that smelled like you, still.  I gave one to Dad and told him to smell it.  I was busy pressing my face into the other one.  I might even miss your smelly feet . . . I was holding your nephew over the weekend, and I was looking deep into his eyes.  Your sister and I have been wondering if he's going to have his Daddy's brown eyes, or have hazel eyes like you did. On Sunday, as I held him, they were mostly green.  And his eye lashes - wow.  I asked him if I could have them and he said "yes, Grandma".  As we sat there and I tickled his baby flesh, I was so reminded of you.  I opened my mouth to tell him that Grandma used to have a litt...

Dear John, Year 4. November 4. I miss you. That part doesn't change with days or months or years.  It's still a horrific hole in my heart.  I want to preface this post by saying these are my thoughts, what's been on my mind.  I'm not looking to argue or debate, I'm just sharing how I feel . . . The thoughts in my head have finally gotten to the place where they are keeping me up at night, and I miss sleeping. If I've been good at anything, it's sleeping. So this morning, I'm up before the sun to get these words out of my head, at least for a while. I always go back and read the "anniversary" posts so I remember what those years looked like. Year One:  Devastation.  Court. Utter sadness and disbelief.  Trying to understand and learn about addiction - Substance Use Disorder.  I shared your story hoping to educate others.  Well, the war on opioids is still raging, and it's worse. CoVid had not helped. The isolation has not helped. The dr...