Somewhere in Oregon on our Road Trip or
Loss is a big part of life. Grieving is the process we go through.
I am blessed to have this house to process my grief, to feel deeply my loss. I am blessed I am not treading water trying to survive working during the pandemic, struggling to pay bills and having to grieve losses during this time.
I have spent a lot of my adult years especially the last ten years experiencing loss and grieving. It is hard to stuff down feelings and suck it up going back to a culture and system that gives you a day or two, maybe a week if you are lucky to get over the loss.
Loss and grief don't work that way, you just don't get over it. I never do. I never get over my losses. They just change and evolve.
I still miss Reanna, Scout, Melanie, Katie, Bella, and on and on it goes. I miss all my soul and spirit connections. My missing changes. My missing evolves from pain to joy that I had and still have these beings in my life. Animal and Human. There will always be a touch or a spear going through my heart of missing them. That's okay. Nothing wrong with it. When you love so deeply, so deeply, how can the ones you love not touch your heart.
When the touch burns my heart, I allow it.
I want my heart to burn so deep, there will be more places for the love and healing to go.
I grieved for years losing my farm, and one by one my animals as they transitioned. It helped that I owned and operated my own pet sit business. I had all the time in the world to cry and allow the pain to take me over, change me, and bring me to a place of being grateful for my life.
With my pet sit business, I could pull over the car and cry. I could write in between my visits and during my overnight stays. I would write in my journal or on my blog, morning, noon, and night whenever I needed to express myself. I could talk to friends and family on the phone with a pet sit cat on my lap. I could go out in the evening and hug a horse if I needed healing.
Now, I have structured my life to need so little that I am able to grieve Scott. I have the time and space, thank god, to do it. I can cry anytime. I can watch the trees flutter, the deer visit, and the clouds go by. I feel empathy and compassion for those who do not have this space to grieve.
How can we fix that. If we own businesses or have extra money, can we help give people the space and financial well being to grieve losses that hurt so bad.
I am so fortunate one of my blog readers, a good friend, and supporter of my writing sent me a generous donation so that I could afford this time to grieve. What a gift. She didn't ask me if I needed money or what I needed, she just sent it with a loving note to use it to take care of myself during this time.
There are Angels on this Earth.
I want to be an Angel too. That's why I am doing the work to get back out there to give. I just want to give. I don't know what it is going to look like. I just know it's what I want my life to be.
I want to give and give and give until I am all used up.