so far, so painful...

I am having a bit of trouble getting myself back together. It's not easy losing your father, but when you lose him just as you are finally getting to know him, it seems like you've fallen into a deep black hole with no exit.

I am stronger than I suspected, but grief feels like a constant drip of acid that disintegrates my mind and heart.

Where shall I go? Who will I be now? Everything I knew is upside-down and torn apart. I gave up making choices. I gave it over to God. I'm waiting for an answer to arrive. I'm angry at everyone around me going on with their lives.

"The Letter Edged in Black." The words to the song were written on a piece of folded paper in a box of memorabilia I found. I thought it was a poetic letter written to someone, but it was, as I found after a little research, the words to an old bluegrass song. I wondered if it pertained to my great-grandmother's death, but I will never know.

Many things in the memorabilia boxes have perplexed me. Mysterious people, cryptic letters, faded writing, saved receipts, newspaper articles, war stamp books and miscellaneous notices. I would have wanted to learn about all those pieces and how they fit together with Daddy, but he's gone forever. His family is gone. He was such a private man he hardly told his own family anything. I felt terrible going through his things, but I couldn't stop, and still can't, because there were so many clues to who he was, what he liked, how he thought, what made him sad - things I would have liked to have known before he left us. Things we had in common. We were much alike, which has made it even more heart-rending.

There was the death of the man I knew, the one I was getting to know and the one that could have been. Complicated relationships render complicated grief. It's been almost unbearable.

I lay awake at night and stare out the window looking for a hawk, a shooting star; a luminous spirit threading itself through the trees to bring me a message of hope, but I am only left with prayer and heavy eyelids. Eventually I sink back down into the pillow and try to go to sleep.

My mind wanders. I make mistakes at work. I worry about my mother and the stress she's going through. She's already had several mini-strokes and I'm terrified she will leave me unexpectedly as well.

Doubt, worry, the incessant grinding of moving forward in slow-motion while the world moves around you at a lightning pace-it's mind-numbing. I look like I am functioning, but I'm not functioning. Time, the eternal fire in which we burn...

Not to mention I found out our kitty Grayson has heart disease and possibly cancer in his back leg and Rooney has been in the veterinary hospital since Monday. He won't eat or drink.

I thought I'd never write in this stupid blog again, but I am losing it...