Sometimes I have to give myself permission to feel it - again. In part, it's the grief comes in waves thing, and we can only stand so much at a time. But sometimes the ache wells up again when I least expect it. I have several choices here. One is to push it down. One is to allow it a little space, but not too much because I hate the ache and the pain. And the other - let it emerge fully and deal with it - do what I need to do. Sometimes this can be the hardest one to allow. Who wants to feel the pain, again, and again, and again.

Today, I was feeling it again, and I happened to be exhausted from not enough sleep - a menopausal thing. So I lay down on the couch. Immediatley my two kitties came and lay down with me. One in the crook my body made as I lay on my side. She snuggled in close next to my heart and tummy. The other climbed onto my side. Both of them purred and loved me. It comforted me in a way that was not invasive and required nothing of me that I could not give. They always do that when I need them too - without me asking. Sometimes I think they are the ones who are more advanced.

Vi

[ December 06, 2005, 08:36 PM: Message edited by: Vi ]

Vi, after my aunt passed away I was sitting on the sofa thinking about her and my bird softly said, "I love you." It was so healing to me. She must have known I needed it.

Vi, giving myself permission to feel the loss at certain times and doses is how I managed to get myself through the sadness that never seemed to go away. I would either wallow in the pain and sink into depression, or repress it and sink into depression. So I decided to "allow" myself little periods of grief. The first ones were long bouts, but they gradually began to subside in intensity. Like you, they hit right out of nowhere...maybe the smell of Dad's pipe tobacco, or a particularly tough Mom-moment...now I allow myself to feel that loss and sadness, but I don't allow it to overwhelm me like it used to.

Being here has helped beyond measure to make that journey through that interminable grief. It's as if my sisters here have filled a void that I never thought could be filled again after Mom and Dad died.

Vi, your thoughts and insights have been very healing for me in my own journey. Your courage has given me courage, and your pain has helped me to heal my own pain. Thank you for sharing your journey with others, like me, who are stumbling along the same road.

Dianne, what a wonderful bird. That's really touching.

Eagle Heart, your sharing your journey has helped me too. Like you, my bouts with this aren't as deep as they used to be. Yes, "stumbling along the same road" is a good way too put it.

And right now I need to go for my walk before it gets too dark. The exercise helps too, even if I don't like to exercise.

Blessings, dear ones,
Vi

Once again our animals show us proof of their undeniable sixth sense and their devotion and love for us...they truly are the Angels upon the earth. Vi, one feels what they feel when they feel it and need no permission to do so. Feeling is an exercise for the soul....

[ December 02, 2005, 09:10 PM: Message edited by: chatty lady ]

Vi, because I don't know you may I ask what is causing you so much sadness? Love those kitties for knowing you needed their sweet comfort.

Dianne, how very touching that your bird said, "I love you." I can't describe the feeling I got hearing that.

Once when I was crying Benny came up to me and got close to my face. He touched one cheek with his one paw and then the other cheek. It's hard to describe the intense love I feel for this little stray.

I hope Vi, that whatever your grief is, as time goes by the hurt will lessen. I pray that for you.

[ December 03, 2005, 12:02 PM: Message edited by: ladybug ]

Chatty Lady, yes, animals are wonderfully in touch with what's important. I like your statement, "Feeling is an exercise for the soul..." I'll ponder that one.

Ladybug, my most recent loss was my sister to liver cancer in June. She was 64. My post - My sister is Dying on this forum under Loss will tell you more. As for others - in 1980, my brother shot and killed his neighbors, 4 of them. Two we knew. On that day I lost the brother I knew, although he didn't die physcially. He is a dangerous, mentally ill man. I lost what remained of my innocence, and all illusions of safety. In 1983 my father died at age 69. I was 33. In 1988 my sweetheart, Gary, died of pancreatic cancer all of a sudden. Four years ago my mother's second husband died. Two years ago my mother's third husband died - he was kind of an uncle to me as I grew up. My dear friend, Tosca, a role model, died in 2002. My favorite aunt Lottie, died in 2000. Both my mother and my father had large extended families. So I've had many aunts uncles and cousins who have passed over the years - a steady stream of them. At times I feel the vacancy intensely. My mom is 87 and has a mild form of dementia. So she is no longer the same person.

Loss has taught me many wonderful things. But at times, when a new one comes along, which it always does, I have to give myself permission to feel the pain...so I can heal a little more. Thanks for asking.

Vi

Thank you for taking the time to tell me all this. I'm hoping I didn't open any healing wounds by asking. I will go back and read the post you mentioned about your sister.

I'm really sincerely sorry to hear of all the sorrow you've had to deal with. Sometimes just having a good cry and not denying it hurts may move you closer to healing. There's nothing wrong with admitting you're hurting because who among us could find fault with that?

Let each day bring you closer to healing and joy. This is my wish and prayer for you kind lady.

Ladybug,

Thank you for your loving concern. No, you did not make me feel worse by asking. I'm fine most of the time. It just hits me now and again, and I deal with it.

Pain is such a good teacher. It can bring out the real beauty in all of us, if we use it that way. Heck, we might as well. It's gotta be good for something.

Vi

Vi, your site is beautiful and so are you.