So I found myself headed back to the GriefShare support group last Monday.  I was actually considering stopping my attending. Not because anything has been solved or fixed or resolved, but because things had settled down, and my problems have moved onto other issues.  Then on a random scroll down Facebook lane, I see a posting from Jen's sister, Dallas, that her oldest daughter, Brooklyn, had been killed in Omaha a few days past. This tore me up. This family has endured more pain than any…

An assumption is an unexamined belief: what is thought to be true without ever really realizing that we think in that way. For better or worse, understanding starts with entertaining the idea that something is true.  Truly profound thoughts generally come to light from the relaxation of these (flawed) assumptions.  This is where I find myself today...

Perhaps, one of the more significant drivers to pushing down the loss and grief at the time of the accident,…

Several years ago therapists #1 and #3 each suggested a writing assignment.  Journal what life would look and feel like had Jen’s accident not happened.  At first the suggestion sounded intriguing, I love writing and find it therapeutic.  After some reflection though, I declined.  There were too many iterations (especially considering the infinite universe theory) and what makes me think that the rosy-colored, cherry-picked version that I focus on would have ever happened?  So many ways…

I (intellectually) know that grief cycles, ups and downs, yet I still let myself fall into the thinking that I was somehow getting 'better'.  Memories and thoughts were decreasing in their intensity and frequency.  Even had a couple days in December without thoughts of Jen popping into my mind.  The emotions that followed were not so gut wrenching.  Dreams were absent of her (sometimes even despite requesting she appear).

Then the turn of the year and a completely new dream…

My grief journey seemed to be stabilizing…I literally went through all the ‘normal’ steps, processes, and feelings again, 30 years after the event, as though I was going through it the first time.  I have mentioned how I stuffed it down, was not able (or willing) to process or adequately deal with it in real time.  Then 30 years go by, a couple of dreams bring the wound to the forefront, and BAM! I am in the thick of it.  In…

I feel myself slipping.  I take medicines to alleviate the spiral down.  I have renewed skills in putting on the happy face…outside.  When I get home, I just want to be in bed.  It is not fair to my family.  It is not me, in the normal sense.  It is not fair or right for so many reasons.  But I cannot stop.

I…

(Pardon the length, brevity is not in my nature and this has been bottled far too long.)

The Notification

I was going to school at Kansas State, but that day had returned to Topeka to visit friends.  I rolled into my parents’ house about 3am on the 18th of October and went in to squeeze my mother’s foot, as was the custom to let them know I was…