I admit it: I haven’t really run for a while. Taking the necessary time off to heal my knees took a toll on my mental state, to the point, perhaps, of putting my healing into a holding pattern and forgetting the joys of trail runs. Staring into space, letting guilt, the loss of losing John to suicide swirl around in my mind and soul seemed … Continue reading Take me to the river
Resilience I have a love/ hate relationship with that word. I wish I wasn’t so resilient sometimes, as I feel it would be easier to crumble and wither away in my grief and tears, but I’m also glad I am. Being resilient means I’m still here. I didn’t join John. I could have. Easily. Being resilient means that I get to see sunsets and sunrises, … Continue reading Resilience
21.1. Km I’m still feeling the aftermath of my first half marathon of the season, and my fist one since, well…my very first one 18 months ago. I finished the ChillyHalf in Burlington at a modest 2:12 and have chafe marks in places no one should chafe. I didn’t train as much for this one, and as I’ve been back at work I haven’t run … Continue reading 21.1 kilometres
I’m not sure when I realized I stopped counting the seconds, the minutes, the hours… but I just realized I stopped counting the months at some point. I actually stopped counting the exact time since John left. One day it was the 8th day of a month, and I didn’t even notice the 5th skipped by. Huh. I’m trying to pass on that bit of … Continue reading C
They say it’s your birthday. John would have been 48 today. It’s odd to think that in two years, I’ll have been alive longer than he was. He was always supposed to be older than me. One day he won’t be. Quite a few people have checked in on me today, hoping I’m ok. I didn’t know what to say. I am ok? I’m wondering … Continue reading Birthday
I’ve made it past the two year mark, and this time it wasn’t that traumatizing. The firsts are always the worst, it seems. The first anniversary, the first birthday, the first road trip, the first Christmas. The first September without John was terrible, leading to my escape to Spain. This one, I felt like i could coast through it if I just didn’t think about … Continue reading Changes
That’s me. My father’s daughter. A pilot. Swearing is part of my vocabulary. I love history and hot mustard and i suck at hugging. His childhood was as fucked as it was for many in the 1940’s: A bit of violence, a bit of rage, lots of love and a new world to discover after a long war. He was the youngest of 10 surviving … Continue reading my father’s daughter
I’m very tired these days. Tired of being sad, tired of wondering “is this IT?’ as far as progression or healing will go. Tired, physically not only with work, but the fact that I try to exhaust myself with running, yoga, occasionally purposefully not meeting my daily caloric intake – don’t care. Tired Mostly, I’m tired of pretending I’m OK. Crappy thing, I think my … Continue reading Tired
I’ve been focusing on my husbands suicide for these entries. It has undeniably changed my life for ever. I have a new normal and it is still something that I strive to adjust in my mind, in my heart. This loss is for keeps and is a forever part of me. I also lost my brother to suicide. It was 14 years ago. His birthday … Continue reading Oh brother, where ya at?
It’s quite amazing that a human can seemingly produce tears to infinity. You’d think you’d dry out, but I haven’t yet. I seem to actually run out of energy to cry before the tears dry up. The waves of emotion have been wider lately, that is, a spaces of time exist between the bottomless sadness that are now longer than they were before. Perhaps it’s … Continue reading Werewolves cry, too.
Grief Runs 