Weekend Notes

Thoughts on Hope

Some days, when submerged in the abyss of grief, wanting my past, I wonder if hope exists at a higher depth. Hope for a new tomorrow where I can skim the surface of grief, knowing that it will always be an undercurrent in my life, hoping that I will not encounter a strong undertow that drowns today in relentless sorrow.

If I do encounter hope, what do I hope for? Financial security to enable me to indulge in some nearly-forgotten dreams? Good health and mental acuity for the rest of my life? (That is always hoped for.) A new love?

And that makes me wonder even more about hope. If I hope for a new love, am I truly wanting a new love or a distraction from my grief? If the chance for a new love appears, will I recognize it and move away from the life I shared with Greg?

Questions. Always questions. My life is filled with questions, even if I never disclose them. My expressed questions have caused some people to tell me I have no confidence in myself, in my capabilities, or in the possibilities of my life changing. Maybe I do lack the confidence I need, but even if I had it, I would still question everything.

Today, sitting outside on a glorious Easter Sunday that God has provided, I see no possibility of a new love in my life. The odds are against it, the opportunities too few.

While I am sad today, grief hasn’t overtaken my emotions and wrecked my mood. I can hear turkeys gobbling, birds singing their happy songs, and the buzzing of wood borers. The grass is green, an assortment of flowers and trees are blooming, and a clear sky is a pleasing backdrop for the woodland in front of me.

Even though I am sad, I am at peace.

From Writing to Ashes

A friend has told me several times through the years that if something is bothering me to write about it, then burn what I write. Since grief has had a stranglehold on my emotions since the first of this year, a couple of weeks ago I decided to try her suggestion.

I have written about grief, heartache, frustration, anger, grief, happy times and sad times, beliefs, grief, love, sorrow and how I may feel tomorrow. I have written letters to people to whom I cannot divulge my feelings, and I have written letters to God.

Some of the thoughts were difficult to put down on paper. Some of the thoughts flowed freely, and even though I frequently mangled sentence structure, I did get on paper how I felt about many things that I could never mention to anyone. 

Apparently, this is helping me deal with grief, as after burning the third or fourth set of letters, I arose the next morning feeling lighter in spirit and mood. 

Since starting writing and burning what I have written, there have been a few times I have cried, like Friday, which would have been Greg’s sixty-third birthday. I was singing “We’ve Had It All” and there is so much in that song that relates to the life Greg and I shared, that the tears came unexpectedly. However, songs that a month ago brought me to tears every time I listened to them I can now listen to and sing along, and smile about happy times with Greg.

I will write more letters tonight, and for many nights to come. I need to get past the grief and let a new day dawn in my life.