brutal honesty

It’s like getting punched in the stomach. That moment when it hits you that a loved one is going to die, and you are no longer in the “denial stage” of grief. I feel like I am crumpling inwards, but I suppose that is how we all feel when this kind of thing happens.

One of the worst parts is the knowledge that I am not alone. They say misery loves company? No. Misery lives off of other misery. A miserable person does NOT love the idea that everyone else in the world will most likely have the unfortunate experience of being equally miserable.

There are an infinite number of “what if”s and “if only”s. I have no idea how much longer there is, but I have a feeling there’s not much.

My “garden” has recently sucummed to disease, and while a couple of plants look like they might make a come-back, most are dying off. It’s an odd thought- putting so much effort into something that will inevitably terminate. I find myself asking what is the point- if it the ending is always the same?

I enjoy and appreciate those who post on their blogs inspirational stories- but there is something to be said as well for those stories that are completely honest.

Dealing with death is not easy. Right now, I have no “happy ending” or inspirational thoughts, only grief. I would be lying if I said that I believed that “there is always hope,” that I know I will be happy again no matter what. I am pessimistic, pissed off, sad, grieving. This is not a “feel-good” post- and I apologize if you were looking to gain something of the sort from it.

I suppose I’ll come back to this later.

Be safe, take care to tell the people you love that you love them, and don’t ever complain about those ugly wrinkles – as they say: growing old is a privilege denied to many.

Best wishes,

Amy ❤


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