So. You know what's been happening with me lately.
It's obvious I'm filled and consumed with grief after unexpectedly losing my father a month ago.
Stupid word, isn't it?
When does one expect to suffer such a loss?
I suppose if someone is sick it is less unexpected, right? I guess. I don't think it's any easier, but different. I'm rambling, I know. But that's part of what's on my mind.
Do you ramble when you blog?
Do you write like me? Do you talk about everything and anything?
I do. Obviously. And yet, sometimes I don't.
I'm not one to come and complain here. Not about things that supposedly matter.
I get personal, but I don't get deep.
Or is that crap? I do get deep? I talk about what I want to talk about.
I've been thinking about how I've been writing about grief. I've been wondering if it's too much for people. You - the people who read my words.
I know I have a handful of strong supporters. A handful of you who listen to me and send me love no matter how sad I am and no matter what I have to share.
You, those people who have sent me Facebook messages offering love. You, my friends who have mailed me handwritten sympathy cards that I came home to. Phone numbers offered. Ears, shoulders, warm hugs. These come from you - my friends who blog. Blogging friends.
But sometimes I say, well, what about the rest of you? Not every reader loves me in a way that my friends do. So maybe the grief is a bit much? Maybe it's a lot to share. And I remind myself I write, not for page views, not for money, but for me.
It's why I still blog (to borrow a phrase used at Type-A Parent). I write for me. And maybe my words help someone else out there? Maybe someone experiencing such grief will pick up their pen, or laptop or something and write, too. Maybe they'll put their pain down on paper and share it, or not share it.
But it's my space and that's why I use it the way I see fit.
And no, nobody has said they have had an issue with my words at all. It's me. It's my mind, ya know? It's my thought process that leads me to thinking what if people think ...?
A very good friend this morning told me, 'Write what you need to write,' and she was, and IS, SO right.
So today I say what's on my mind, and I'm thankful for the reminder from friends that I can be me here in my space and talk about whatever it is that matters to me. And right now, that's finding my way through the clouds of grief and emotion to see the sun shining in. It will take time. It will take small moments to remind me that smiling is allowed, laughing is okay and sometimes even singing is permitted.
I just need to remember to let myself feel that stuff. Let myself do it all.
And remember that you are all here as a sounding board, listening, reading, commenting, or not. But either way it's all okay. I'll be okay.
Miss you, Daddy. But you taught me to stay strong. You taught me to do anything I ever wanted. You taught me to bring home an A when I didn't think I could. You motivated me. You supported me. And most of all, you loved me. I have others who do those things, too, but I must always remember to do them for myself, as well.
You taught me well. I won't forget. Ever.