Tag Archives: cry

Loss Is A New…. What Word Goes Here?

A collection of thoughts, realizations, and truths for me as I navigate the loss of my Papa from this life.

The first three I published on various social media sites, but after that they’re a first time thought.

He died Thursday 18th at 3:22 am.

 

 

Okay, so…. I’m not good at this. And I’m still stuck in …… I think shock and it hasn’t sunk in.
But Chuck Schultz, my Papa, went home to God Thursday morning at 3:20.
I miss him. I love him. I know he’s happy and safe and feels peace and joy and all the love that there is.
So, yeah. I will just leave this here.
With my awkward and inadequate words to mark with speech the love I have for him, the sorrow over losing him for a time, or the surety that I’ll see him again.
I am ever grateful for the memories.
I love you Papa.

 

I don’t remember my Papa’s laugh. I realized this in a painful panic. In a flurry of grasping memories and desperately trying to hear, just hear the last laugh he laughed in my presence. Instead, I only have tears to offer the silence.

 

 

I’ve never lost anyone before. Not to death. It’s a strange land to live in.

The entire world has changed. Yet it remains the same.

I am confronted with a void where there once was life, tiny memories dropping into the hollow that now presides, trying desperately to breathe life back into the part of my soul where he lived, died, and now is reborn in hope and knowledge that we’ll meet again and begin another journey of colliding souls.

 

I bought him this apron. I’ve only bought two aprons in my life. One for my Papa and one for my best friend.

We loved Snoopy together. And food. Cooking. Recipes. Papa was a chef. A master of cooking. He seemed to be a master of everything.

I wonder if I will see it again. After his funeral. When I must walk into his room and sit with his things and pick through them like a vulture. Oh, what do I want? How horrid. But how beautiful and loving and revitalizing. To bring a piece of him home with me. A physical piece of my Papa to keep with me forever. What will I bring home of him?

 

Wearing my hat.

I miss clicking into my blog posts and seeing that my Papa has commented on them. Because he cares. Because he sees me. Because he’s a sassy character.

And now I feel the void where they were. The incoming comments on my life in his words, from his mind, his heart.

I get excited, wonder what he’ll think.

But there won’t be any comments from Papa.

 

When I was a wee munchkin Papa and I rooted for the Raiders. I knew absolutely nothing about football or why we liked them, but oh man did we love them!

It was our thing.

I wore a Raider’s hat. I now love the color scheme. I still know nothing about football. But I root for the Raiders.

I brought home his Raider’s belt buckle. His Raiders ring. What odd things to keep. They’re little bits of him. Right here. Where I can hold them in my hands while I tear up and learn how to let myself cry.

Papa taught me that. Cry. By dying he made me all aware of how if I didn’t shed tears, pretending, faked it, I was disrespecting our bond. Truth. Love. Those tears mean something. And I’m no longer ashamed to cry anymore for any reason in front of anyone. What a gift he’s given me. Even not being here, he’s teaching me about life.

 

I kept three of his ties. They still smell like him. I never want to wash them. I never want the smell to leave. I wonder if I put them in Ziploc bags if his Papa scent will keep.

 

I remember his laugh. It’s faint now, but growing. A shadow memory, cruelly fading in and out. But I won’t let it go.

It will come back, fully. If not I’ll hunt for it.

He laughed a lot.

 

 

People say, “I’m sorry for your loss”.

I used to say that to people.

I don’t think I will any longer. I’m not upset by it or anything like that. But its a wee bit meaningless at this point when I use it on others. Becuase now I know. Now I’ve felt it. Experienced it. Losing someone I love. Sometimes we don’t need to have anything to say. Just sit with someone, acknowledge the pain, understand that there are no words to fix it or make it better.

 

It’s a jumble of emotions, thoughts, and new understandings.

I am trying to step back and witness how I am moving through this.

Grief isn’t a 5 step process.

 

Have you lost anyone you love?

How did you and how are you dealing? 

How are you changing?

What do you see differently?

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Filed under The Odd Bit

The Worth of Souls

(I know I just posted, but get over it, people. I typically forget to post for a week instead of posting 3 times weekly. You’ll survive……still grumpy if you can’t tell)

Today is a painful day.

 

I’d like for everyone to send Brian some love.
Speaking of fuzzy babies, Brian’s dog passed away this week. Buck is an adorable, sweet boy who loves snow and his dad, Brian.

I say “is”, because the only solace I retain is that all my fuzzy babies are in heaven, waiting for me.
I don’t believe a soul can die. We just move somewhere else. And dogs are most certainly the sweetest of souls.

 

What to do when your animal passes?
Cry.
I cried like a psycho when my last two dogs died, and that for once, is not a joke, exaggeration, or me being sarcastic. I got a migraine I cried so hard.
The idea that your dog (or whatever your beloved animal is) died in pain and confused is enough to crush one’s heart.
But at least he died quickly.
And I am so glad that I was there to hold my dog’s hand as he passed.
I will forever look forward to the day I get to see my dogs again.

 

Isn’t it funny that that’s what we do, as humans? Try to look for the “well, at least”s in terrible situations.
At least it was quick.
He still died. He still hurt.
You still hurt. I still hurt.

 

But I believe this is a good thing. I think its the two things we should do when a dog (pet) dies.
1. We cry. We hurt. We rage.
2. We remember. We love. We look forward to reuniting.

 

So let’s all take a moment to remember our pets, the pets of our friends, and send some love Buck and Brian’s way.
Rest in peace, Buck.

Descent Into Slushland

A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than you love yourself.” – Josh Billings

The last two years have been really shitty for me. As bad as 2016 was, 2017 has just eclipsed it as the shittiest. Four days ago my dog suddenly stopped walking. Seriously, he was fine most of Sunday and in the afternoon he changed. He was in pain. So. Much. Pain. He hurt so much that he didn’t even want to lay down.

We took him to the vet for tests. They had trouble finding the cause. Eventually they said he had arthritis. Buck is ten, and a Lab, of course he has arthritis. They gave him anti-inflammatory medication…which did absolutely nothing. In fact, he got worse. The next day he would stand around panting (even though it wasn’t hot) and later whining non-stop. It broke my heart to…

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The Rise

I’m tired of making sense. It’s like I’ve got to stretch to fit and it’s not working. Life doesn’t always make sense. Why should I bend over backwards, crane my neck, and break blood vessels in my eyes just to make it all appear flawless and put together? Nothing is perfect or flawless. I was right when I began; I can take all of this. Only, my definition of “this” has changed. I can take whatever I need to. And I realize what I need isn’t the world spinning. To let go is to cry from my lungs, to let my soul shiver in the darkness, the cold that seeped in. To let go is to warm with the silence seeping from inside me until I can feel it, wiping away the pain.

I said something on twitter the other day that didn’t make sense. I do that. I speak sometimes without understanding myself, where it came from, this nonsense. What I think is really happening is I’m escaping through fissures. I’m breaking and its saving my life.

“Something witty. Something lovely. Something inspiring. I don’t know. I know the silence hiding within, trying to pour out into my skin.”

“When the silence spills into my lungs, I think it’s time to hear it.”

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Filed under Stream of Consciousness