Ten years ago I was writing several blogs on various subjects - F1 motor racing, Music, Classic Cars, Great Romances and, most crushingly, a personal journal that included my thoughts on America, memories of England and Africa, opinion, humour, writing and anything else that occurred. It all became too much (I was attempting to update the journal every day) and I collapsed, exhausted and thoroughly disillusioned in the end.
So this blog is indeed a Toe in the Water, a place to document my thoughts in and on WdC but with a determination not to get sucked into the blog whirlpool ever again. Here's hoping.
I tend to write to deal with grief, it helps me think and release my feelings. You have a lot to deal of healing needed physically and emotionally. Know that you also have people here who care and support you.
So sorry for your loss. Take as much time as you need to sort things out. There's no right or wrong way to grieve. I'd say the defining feature of "mourning" is dwelling on your personal feelings, and sometimes they can be complicated.
That's why we say "sorry for your loss". We recognize that those left behind have lost something. The bereaved lose a part of their world, a someone who belonged in their personal life story, someone who shared memories with them that they may now have to carry alone because no one else would understand. It's not selfish to mourn, it just illustrates the value of the one who has passed and gives them their due importance.
I'm sorry for your loss like Cubby said, everyone's grief is different. I don't want to make any personal suggestions about fond memories or whatever. Take care
As someone whoās done more time in hospital beds than Iād like to admit, I can confirmāhospital ceilings are truly the unsung canvas of human imagination. Beholden, may your creativity paint masterpieces up thereā¦ preferably before the meds kick in and everything starts looking like abstract art. Stay strong and keep imagining!
I have been there. I even told my doctor they needed ceiling murals so I'd have something to look at and distract me as I lie helpless, my fate in the hands of the nurses.
Itās not the limitless expanse of the universe that makes us aware of our insignificance. Itās the vast, incomprehensible number of all the people who have ever lived and those who now inhabit the planet Earth. Each of us is a single grain of sand on a beach that goes on forever. And our only hope for being noticed amongst the myriads of our fellow creatures is that some day we might be driven by the wind from the beach to the sea and so to the depths where we might fall into the mouth of some oyster that then gets irritated enough to begin covering us with a coating of some smooth substance that hardens and eventually makes us into a pearl.
Even then we have to depend on the chance of being found and included in a cosmic string of pearls to grace some infinite neck. Kinda puts us into perspective, doesnāt it?
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