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 still desperate to understand why some people see suicide as their only option. I read books from health professionals. I read interviews with people who have attempted suicide, but lived. I buy medical books with words and terms I honestly don’t quite understand. I have found articles relating gut health to depression. I have found articles linking alcohol abuse to suicide. But I have … Continue reading Tiny little pieces
A dear friend of mine, who is also grieving, asked me how I was really doing the other day. My answer for that day was “I’m actually doing ok” huh. I explained I was still sad, and that he had just missed a sudden grief tsunami of my tears and sobbing, but at that time i was actually, truly, ok. I told him that despite … Continue reading Hope chest of drawers
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
Happiness morphs between mildly content and ecstatic. Although I can say that I am happy today, I can also assure you that it is a different happy than what I had before John died. But it is still happy. There are many ways to look at the evolution of happy before and after you lose a love to suicide. For a while, it is not … Continue reading Same but different
I attended a gala for mental health a few months ago. I think I’d mentioned that in a previous entry. I had a wee bit of hope after that night. Hope that some suicides are preventable and permanently avoided. Well, another blow to hope came last week. One of the “successful” patients who was a walking, talking proof that we can truly have hope, took … Continue reading Don’t ask Questions…
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
New subdivisions are taking over the forests and fields where I live. I don’t like it. It seems every time I drive or walk somewhere, there are more and more plywood frames, standing a mere 30 cm apart from each other, calling themselves homes. Every time I go to these new build areas, another farm has lost the battle against the town council; another homestead … Continue reading The black and white house
Grief Runs 