Oh, Rambi. I think all of us have been sitting here the last cpl years knowing your boys were getting older, and that this was going to happen, and that it was going to be very hard for you. I'm sure of it. Like flying above a train, watching it worm it's way through the Rockies.
(I know.....I don't make these stupid metaphors up, I just write what I see on the ground there.)
<<. Dan is quiet and locked in himself, doing his own grieving. We are each in pain, and not doing well sharing it.>>
Bluntly, it sounds like you guys better. Find out how to share. (A rare chance to give some advice to Rambi. But the prospects are so unnerving without it being borne together in some way. No?)
This is the darn hazard of having kids. I don't have any, I know; but I have stuff like MJ and DDS. So what are ya gonna do? Not have em? (Pretty deep, aint I.)
You poor girl. Now you're really getting to be Momma.
We'll be here to help.
Oh boy!
I am guessing wildly, that admitting it's going to be really hard, as opposed to toughing it out good-like, might lead to ways to get thru it. Tell them boys. What it's like. Cry some. A bunch maybe. Then they'll ask you why you're crying, and you can tell them, and slowly slowly you'll feel better.
I used to see my Mom cry, and I would ask her why. (Heh heh. Tempting to insert something smarty right here.) It brings things closer together. (Maybe you've already done this.) But you and D need to have a cry. Really. Trust me.
(Rrrrrrrright.)
Run into the Rockies head on. Find ways to trounce how bad it feels. Or express it. I wouldn't try to be strong. I'd just try to get through to the other side. It's like a wound is coming ~ pretending it won't hurt if you pretend it doesn't hurt is okay, but me I'd scream and see who comes to help me.
~ Your best friend Paul ~
"Keeping the world safe for psychiatry." |
