Processing loss, Part 2 ~ Climbing out of the abyss [Mental Health Monday]

So, here I am.  Sitting on the deck, gazing at the trees, in some semblance of peace.

Since alexithymia strikes at unpredictable times, not always invited, this is one of those times when I can’t tell if I’m 100% at peace or not, but I feel like I might be.

Nothing has changed.  My aunt is still gone.  It’s her son’s (my cousin’s) birthday today, so my thoughts and feelings have turned to him.  And my mom, of course.

My own tears have dried.  Yesterday’s torrent of tears triggered an instantaneous, explosive histamine attack, for which not one, but two, doses of antihistamine were necessary to knock it out–and knock me out as well.

I sacked out last night before 10pm, in front of my favorite TV Comfort Brain Food: House MD.

And although I can’t remember anything specific, I really do wonder if the spirit of my aunt stopped by last night?  It might only be poetic wishful thinking on my part, but what if it’s true?

Nothing else can explain my peace, after all.  It’s almost as if she communicated to me somehow that she’s ok.

And I know that she is.  I believe that one’s soul continues on, even after the physical body, which is nothing but a temporary vehicle, is shed.  Like a snakeskin you don’t need anymore, that just holds you back, weighs you down.

She’s free to fly.  If there are any tears to be shed today, they’re for relief on her behalf.  Being free from pain and free to fly is beautiful.  It was her time to do that.

By now, I hope she has reunited with her husband, my wonderful uncle, and her father, my amazing grandfather.  

I feel the void of her absence, even though we lived over a thousand miles apart, but somehow, it doesn’t hurt so deeply anymore.  At least, not now.  I’m sure that grief will come in waves this time, too.  It always has.  But for now, I am OK.

If the song that sums up yesterday was “Flames” by Vast, then the song that expresses today is “Slide Away” (link to the video on YouTube) by the UK band The Verve.  It’s gorgeous and peaceful and content.  It reflects my disposition today.  And hopefully, hers too, and for my mom and cousins.

I’m sure that’s in no small part due to the outpouring of love and support from everyone who lovingly reached out to my last post.

And connections like these and the uplifting, healing feelings they generate are what help people heal, what make the physical plane so beautiful, too.  They’re part of what makes me stick around.

So, there is beauty in both planes, the physical and the ethereal.  I see that.  I know it to my core.

I don’t have an informative post conjured up for Mental Health Monday; maybe I will a little later, after a little more time on my deck. 

For now, I just want to say a big Thank You to those who reached out, and an pre-Thank You to any who will, for you have contributed greatly to not only my mental health, but also likely to that of each other.

And that is, indeed beautiful.

I’m climbing out.  I’m OK.

And I love you All. ❤

(PS: The picture I chose is symbolic.  The mountains in the background are for my aunt’s love of mountains, since she lived in Montana for so long.  The color tint is surreal and a varied spectrum, to reflect her current state and her now-infinite capability.  The tree is like a Tree of Life, to symbolize that she lives on, and the visible roots symbolize so many aspects, including her strength, our own strength, and the family ties that bind forever.)

27 Comments

  1. I’m glad to hear you’re getting some relief. These things are not easy, so I’m glad you’ve found a bit of peace. I hope it is lasting.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It is hard to lose a loved one. My aunt died over 24 years ago and I still miss her. I remember her when I entertain and make delicious recipes like she did. I recently attended her daughter’s wedding and saw my aunt in my cousin. She lives on in all of us.

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