Grief is a terrible roller coaster ride of emotion. 182 days have elapsed since the love of my life passed away.
In December on a particularly gray day as I made my way to the literature class I was teaching, the automated
elevator attendant announced, “Going up,” but she definitely sounded down. Sad. Low. Inconsolable. I almost couldn’t force myself to get into a tiny box that would lift me to a place that sounded just as depressing as I was feeling at ground level. The class, the students were great – don’t get me wrong. I just wasn’t feeling it.
That was one of three jobs I worked for three months from October to December. I have only one job now – at a local drugstore where I know everyone, where all my fellow-employees knew my husband and helped us through his long illness. The atmosphere is supportive, the people exceptional humans all.
My writing project now is rather private. I am journaling my grief journey in hopes there will be some semblance of a book in that journey at some time in the future. Perhaps some of this will be only a portion of my memoir that I have stopped actively working on. I don’t know.
But I am writing every day – and that is what I have always asked of you here. To keep your butt in the chair and write – write now. No matter what.
I have a project planned for this group in February to get us all writing and thinking about writing and editing. Please stay tuned. Thanks for your patience.