Loreal, you have suffered a great loss. At age 41, a widow (yes, it is a harsh word. I wish our language was more kind) with a son far from home. And guilt over a situation in which you were not in any way responsible. I’m so very sorry that this happened. I know
Poignant is your writing and there is an honesty, which is what marks all good writing. You have Mini the hunter, who is loyal. I view all animal companions as loyal.
I do brush my teeth, even when I am down. Or tired. I can hear the voice of my dental hygienist. And I always have peanut butter in the cupboard. I am still married after so many years, but losses come in different forms.
But there is a wonderful Substack community who understands and appreciates.
What a lovely comment, Perry. I feel so grateful for the people in my life who make sure I’m okay and taking care of myself during difficult times. And my little Mini has a big heart. She provides for me and keeps me going. I’m so lucky to have her. And this great Substack community! I’m incredibly lucky. It’s true that there are many kinds of losses, and they can’t be minimized; you have my deepest sympathy. Thank you for being here.
That first year. You got through it. And you're writing. Apparently without interruption. Raw, true, real. The day after the one year anniversary and the day after that, keep remembering and keep writing.
I cannot not love your writing, however, gratitude and I are on the rocks and currently in virtual couples therapy somewhere in my brain.
I've only just skimmed this piece because reading it in detail has proven too painful based on to the subject matter - my being only about 9 months out myself. With just that skimming though, there is such brilliance, beauty, heart, truth, vulnerability...love. And I mentally pin all of the words until some time when I feel a bit stronger. Then, when I read this you'll keep me company, with your bravery and experience - and gratitude. And I feel like somehow - that future me - will also keep you company, as you write this, since, incredibly, I feel like things work that way.
Meanwhile, I hope to say that gratitude will get me through this first year. Since I haven't gotten through it quite yet, I don't know what that will be...?
Lately I've developed a close relationships with some feelings that I'm not so used to indulging - but we can't just pick and choose which emotions to be in denial of, now can we?
Hmmm, sounds like something else to be angry about.
Thank for writing this Mary - and for sharing it with all of us. I look forward to reading it in greater detail soon...ish.
John. you are a lovely writer. I hope you start posting soon! Maybe pick one thing… gratitude, for example. And how it’s a “no” and a “yes” for you - ?
John, I want to first say that I was in tears as I read this. You write beautifully. The emotions are right there, the sorrow so close. My deepest sympathy for your loss.
Grief is so complex. I don’t think you can simplify or reduce it without dishonoring the person who is suffering, or the one who has passed. It’s a great shame that our culture doesn’t have the compassion to make a place for someone who is going through what you and so many others are experiencing. There’s no template. I read your words, and my heart aches for you.
I didn’t realize, when I began writing this piece, that my thoughts would come to rest on “gratitude” as a way to navigate these very rough waters. It was only through examining the past year, at the time of this anniversary, that I recognized the truth behind this. Actions that feel small can have a huge effect. I was fortunate enough to have the time - an entire year - to experience the loss. Many of us are not so lucky. Such a simple statement as, “You can stay in your bathrobe all day, as long as you brush your teeth” doesn’t resonate immediately. But when I followed this advice - and it was permission, really - I realized how grateful I was for the people in my life who allowed me to just sit with my feelings until I could sort through them. It wasn’t a recognition from day one that I “should” feel grateful to those who were there for me. It was a slow process, and I don’t think it ever ends.
I’m thankful that you’re here, and able to be vulnerable and open. You are the person I had in mind when I wrote this piece. It’s why I’m on Substack: to connect. What you’ve written here is speaking not just to me, but to many others. We truly are the “beloved community.”
Limpid and undefended. Like looking through the clearest lake to see the bottom. It would be almost unbearably sad if not for the palpable kindness of those who care for you, on four legs or two. Beautifully realized.
Thank you, Rona. It’s been a strange couple of weeks. It wasn’t easy to write with literal immediacy. But I hope people relate to the feeling of living a moment within a moment. All very strange. Maybe things will be different tomorrow. Or better. Both, I hope.❤️
Hi Mary! Another wonderful post in its authenticity and openness! In this post you have written a couple of lines that really get to the meat of things, for me. And I would like to incorporate them into an epilogue of a chapbook of poetry which I have been working on this year, with credit of course. The lines are “Events eclipse each other; years collapse like telescopes. You can’t open them fully after a while.” The chapbook’s main theme is how memories are written over as more experiences happen, only so much room in the neocortex. Anyway, if you prefer I don’t, that is ok too ~ I keep searching for a proper way to pull all of the poems I have for it together. Thanks again for sharing.
I’m so glad you appreciated this, BW. I love that you connected with my work. I spend a lot of time crafting sentences, and sometimes they come out of nowhere - or the raw materials do, as I’m sure you understand! A chapbook is an accomplishment. I’ve never been able to assemble one on my own, though I’ve tried. Yours sounds like a remarkable undertaking of love, generosity, and kindness, informed by quite a lot of research. I’m honored that my words spoke to you so much that you wish to share them along with yours. No one has ever asked me to do this before. I’d love it if you could send me some small part of your work in a DM. I look forward to seeing it. 🙏❤️
Lorraine, I replied to your comment last night, and it looks like it didn’t go through. I should not be commenting when there’s a cat on my lap, purring me to sleep.😴 I’m glad that this touched you. I’m honored by your kindness. Mini will get scritches like she’s never had before! Sending love from both of us.😽🥰❤️
Oh Mary, I know how this feels…it does get better in a time passing, adapting sort of way. I still fill with tears after ten years …so it will always be beneatho you the surface sweet friend. Just look how far you’ve come on your own..you last paragraph about feeling accomplished, connected, supportive… bravo to you for knowing writing us healing, and there are many of us on this same journey with you. I laughed at you trying to make the drink quietly! 😄same here… with my sister or kids on the phone…”mom’s drinking!” And your precious kitty keeps you going… mine did too. Never an affectionate dude, he sensed the loneliness, the missingness and finally started snuggling with me at night. I also had Littles to help care for…they kept me going. I love the friend who gave you roses… keep her! And know how much we all love you here! You’re an amazing writer and you’ve just done it again! Pulling us into feelings and honestly and vulnerability… love your way with words! Big hugs! 🩷🤗🤗
Joan, I so deeply appreciate you. I was horrified to see nonsensical letters and nonexistent words trickling down the page. Mini was purring away on my lap, and I woke up to think, Everyone will believe I’m drunk! So grateful you’re here, with you wisdom, compassion, and humor. Hugs.🤗 ❤️💕🥰
Joan, you are so sweet. It has been quite the journey. I feel like Substack has become my new home. I certainly spend a lot of time here, with lovely people like you. What a joy it is. I never thought I’d be doing something like this. It’s deeply satisfying. It has kept me going. After having been interrupted, I never thought I’d be able to get back to work doing what I love. ❤️ 💕🎉
Loreal, you have suffered a great loss. At age 41, a widow (yes, it is a harsh word. I wish our language was more kind) with a son far from home. And guilt over a situation in which you were not in any way responsible. I’m so very sorry that this happened. I know
your friend has been there for you in some difficult times; I hope he continues to do so.
Words to live by. Thank you. My new socks are wonderful.
Poignant is your writing and there is an honesty, which is what marks all good writing. You have Mini the hunter, who is loyal. I view all animal companions as loyal.
I do brush my teeth, even when I am down. Or tired. I can hear the voice of my dental hygienist. And I always have peanut butter in the cupboard. I am still married after so many years, but losses come in different forms.
But there is a wonderful Substack community who understands and appreciates.
What a lovely comment, Perry. I feel so grateful for the people in my life who make sure I’m okay and taking care of myself during difficult times. And my little Mini has a big heart. She provides for me and keeps me going. I’m so lucky to have her. And this great Substack community! I’m incredibly lucky. It’s true that there are many kinds of losses, and they can’t be minimized; you have my deepest sympathy. Thank you for being here.
Beautifully written, Mary. Thank you for your heartfelt reflections x
Thank you, Julie. I’m glad you enjoyed this piece.🙏❤️
That first year. You got through it. And you're writing. Apparently without interruption. Raw, true, real. The day after the one year anniversary and the day after that, keep remembering and keep writing.
So beautiful.
Thank you, Elizabeth.❤️
Dear Mary,
I cannot not love your writing, however, gratitude and I are on the rocks and currently in virtual couples therapy somewhere in my brain.
I've only just skimmed this piece because reading it in detail has proven too painful based on to the subject matter - my being only about 9 months out myself. With just that skimming though, there is such brilliance, beauty, heart, truth, vulnerability...love. And I mentally pin all of the words until some time when I feel a bit stronger. Then, when I read this you'll keep me company, with your bravery and experience - and gratitude. And I feel like somehow - that future me - will also keep you company, as you write this, since, incredibly, I feel like things work that way.
Meanwhile, I hope to say that gratitude will get me through this first year. Since I haven't gotten through it quite yet, I don't know what that will be...?
Lately I've developed a close relationships with some feelings that I'm not so used to indulging - but we can't just pick and choose which emotions to be in denial of, now can we?
Hmmm, sounds like something else to be angry about.
Thank for writing this Mary - and for sharing it with all of us. I look forward to reading it in greater detail soon...ish.
(Note to self: Maybe I need to get a fluffy pet?)
John. you are a lovely writer. I hope you start posting soon! Maybe pick one thing… gratitude, for example. And how it’s a “no” and a “yes” for you - ?
John, I want to first say that I was in tears as I read this. You write beautifully. The emotions are right there, the sorrow so close. My deepest sympathy for your loss.
Grief is so complex. I don’t think you can simplify or reduce it without dishonoring the person who is suffering, or the one who has passed. It’s a great shame that our culture doesn’t have the compassion to make a place for someone who is going through what you and so many others are experiencing. There’s no template. I read your words, and my heart aches for you.
I didn’t realize, when I began writing this piece, that my thoughts would come to rest on “gratitude” as a way to navigate these very rough waters. It was only through examining the past year, at the time of this anniversary, that I recognized the truth behind this. Actions that feel small can have a huge effect. I was fortunate enough to have the time - an entire year - to experience the loss. Many of us are not so lucky. Such a simple statement as, “You can stay in your bathrobe all day, as long as you brush your teeth” doesn’t resonate immediately. But when I followed this advice - and it was permission, really - I realized how grateful I was for the people in my life who allowed me to just sit with my feelings until I could sort through them. It wasn’t a recognition from day one that I “should” feel grateful to those who were there for me. It was a slow process, and I don’t think it ever ends.
I’m thankful that you’re here, and able to be vulnerable and open. You are the person I had in mind when I wrote this piece. It’s why I’m on Substack: to connect. What you’ve written here is speaking not just to me, but to many others. We truly are the “beloved community.”
Mary, thank you for sharing your full self with us. You are so authentic. I have cried and at times laughed especially concerning Mini’s antics.
We are here for you. Hugs and love.
Thank you, Monica. I always try to write from the heart. And Mini is just such an adorable cat. A great companion and friend. Love to you, too. ❤️
I love your stories. Keep writing and we will keep living through your writing.
Hey, Did you brush your teeth?
We need laughter and you .
Thanks, Tinabeth! It does feel good to laugh, and to share. I brushed AND flossed, last night and today. I’m glad you enjoyed this.❤️
Limpid and undefended. Like looking through the clearest lake to see the bottom. It would be almost unbearably sad if not for the palpable kindness of those who care for you, on four legs or two. Beautifully realized.
Thank you, Rona. It’s been a strange couple of weeks. It wasn’t easy to write with literal immediacy. But I hope people relate to the feeling of living a moment within a moment. All very strange. Maybe things will be different tomorrow. Or better. Both, I hope.❤️
Hi Mary! Another wonderful post in its authenticity and openness! In this post you have written a couple of lines that really get to the meat of things, for me. And I would like to incorporate them into an epilogue of a chapbook of poetry which I have been working on this year, with credit of course. The lines are “Events eclipse each other; years collapse like telescopes. You can’t open them fully after a while.” The chapbook’s main theme is how memories are written over as more experiences happen, only so much room in the neocortex. Anyway, if you prefer I don’t, that is ok too ~ I keep searching for a proper way to pull all of the poems I have for it together. Thanks again for sharing.
I’m so glad you appreciated this, BW. I love that you connected with my work. I spend a lot of time crafting sentences, and sometimes they come out of nowhere - or the raw materials do, as I’m sure you understand! A chapbook is an accomplishment. I’ve never been able to assemble one on my own, though I’ve tried. Yours sounds like a remarkable undertaking of love, generosity, and kindness, informed by quite a lot of research. I’m honored that my words spoke to you so much that you wish to share them along with yours. No one has ever asked me to do this before. I’d love it if you could send me some small part of your work in a DM. I look forward to seeing it. 🙏❤️
I will connect with you a little later tonight once I get a chance. TY
Touching and practical. I like this a lot. Thank you.
Thank you, Laura. I’m pleased that this touched you.
So exquisite.
Thank you, MJ. You are very kind.
Your writing is anything but cluttered. So heartfelt and pure. This was therapeutic. Thank you
P.S. I love the 14th use of socks. Nailed it.
P.S.S. Please give extra scritches to mini for me.💕
Lorraine, I replied to your comment last night, and it looks like it didn’t go through. I should not be commenting when there’s a cat on my lap, purring me to sleep.😴 I’m glad that this touched you. I’m honored by your kindness. Mini will get scritches like she’s never had before! Sending love from both of us.😽🥰❤️
Hugs and love to you both Mary and Mini! 🥰😻
Oh Mary, I know how this feels…it does get better in a time passing, adapting sort of way. I still fill with tears after ten years …so it will always be beneatho you the surface sweet friend. Just look how far you’ve come on your own..you last paragraph about feeling accomplished, connected, supportive… bravo to you for knowing writing us healing, and there are many of us on this same journey with you. I laughed at you trying to make the drink quietly! 😄same here… with my sister or kids on the phone…”mom’s drinking!” And your precious kitty keeps you going… mine did too. Never an affectionate dude, he sensed the loneliness, the missingness and finally started snuggling with me at night. I also had Littles to help care for…they kept me going. I love the friend who gave you roses… keep her! And know how much we all love you here! You’re an amazing writer and you’ve just done it again! Pulling us into feelings and honestly and vulnerability… love your way with words! Big hugs! 🩷🤗🤗
Joan, I fell asleep writing my reply. How embarrassing. I tried to go back and edit, but oops. No rest, cat on my lap. Think I may have to start over.
Joan, I so deeply appreciate you. I was horrified to see nonsensical letters and nonexistent words trickling down the page. Mini was purring away on my lap, and I woke up to think, Everyone will believe I’m drunk! So grateful you’re here, with you wisdom, compassion, and humor. Hugs.🤗 ❤️💕🥰
Joan, you are so sweet. It has been quite the journey. I feel like Substack has become my new home. I certainly spend a lot of time here, with lovely people like you. What a joy it is. I never thought I’d be doing something like this. It’s deeply satisfying. It has kept me going. After having been interrupted, I never thought I’d be able to get back to work doing what I love. ❤️ 💕🎉
So beautiful and poignant, Mary. Lots of love ❤️
Thank you for your kind words, Maureen. It’s a true honor.🙏❤️