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  1. I hate grief: it’s sneaky. Just when you think you’ve gotten over heartbreak mountain, it comes back, wraps around your feet and pulls you into a river of tears again, like a mad octopus. It’s very tempting to want the inoculation, but death & loss are a normal part of the life cycle. (Man, I don’t even want to buy that story.) Pain & loss is a part of everything living, as much as flourishing, joy & celebration. Time does dull the pain; I can’t blame you for being impatient for that.

  2. I would vote no to an inoculation for grief. I think it is a part of life and that in the long run, griefing makes us stronger. You and Charlie are a prime example. You both are learning how to cope and move on each day with one another; yes, you have bad and good days, but in the long run, I think it is part of the package we “humans” have signed up for in being on this earth.
    I think we are a lot stronger than we give ourselves credit for. Happy Tuesday to all!
    Carol and Molly.

  3. I don’t have words or much of anything else bother me until I have a cup of coffee! LOL
    But, I have had some doozies of dreams that will wake me up – not nightmares mind you, just really weird, off-the-wall dreams. You should get a digital recorder to keep by your bedside if you don’t already have one. Go with the flow.

    1. I guess it’s a balance. But straight up grief is so hard.

  4. I often wake up in the middle of the night after a dream. It does not matter if it is a good dream or a bad one. When this happens, I am WIDE AWAKE. Then often the dream reminds me of something that happened in the past, and I find myself going over it, questioning myself if I should have done something differently. I call it my “night terrors.”

    Then I say, “stop it” to myself. “That was then, this is now, and there is no point going over this stuff,” and I make myself think of something nice, like decorating a room, or a good book I have read.

    1. We sure do know how to torment ourselves, don’t we!

  5. No vaccine for grief. Our lives are forever changed by the ones we love and lose. We learn to live with the grief and it gives us empathy towards others who are grieving.

    1. That makes sense. I guess right now I just want the pain to fade a bit. I’ll always love Abi. She was always with me, right by my side. Now Charlie boy and I are living in a quiet home.

  6. I would not want to be inoculated against grief. When someone I love dies, I don’t want to cavalierly feel “too ta loo Toots, nice knowing you”and return to normal life as if they never meant anything to me or had an effect on me. Grief is tough, ongoing, coming in waves. But it permanently nails the love into my heart .

    1. I guess it doesn’t make sense to be able to escape bad feelings when there are also good feelings to balance things out. Grief is just so terribly hard. I miss her so much.

  7. I think the grief process is sometimes what we must go through to learn a lesson. (not the loss-of-a-loved-one type of grief.) I made a bad decision when I was young and really had to be slapped in the face to learn that one! Perhaps grief is the price we must pay for the joy and love we get. Like you, I was a reader—I can remember when I was a child and there was nothing in the house to read and sitting down to read the telephone book. (remember those?) I hope each day is better for you.

    1. I wonder if they even make phone books any more. Lots of good stuff is just gone. The phone book could be handy if your internet is down.

  8. Brenda it is my belief that the healing process persists and it is difficult to enjoy a reasonable quality of life shortly after a loss. Everyday events and significant life markers are painful reminders of what could have been.
    I’ve buried two daughters (Charnelle was 5 and Natasha was 20, both my parents,uncles, cousins, uncles and numerous furry friends ) and I don’t think anyone enjoys the grieving process, it HURTS, but there are stages, but it takes time (a LOT of it) to help us work through the gut wrenching darkness that comes with losing ones who we hold dear.
    You are not alone and you WILL come through the other side. (-:

    1. Wow, burying two daughters. I cannot imagine that pain.

      1. Lorie, I am so sorry. I can’t imagine losing two children. I’ve lost one (my son, Philip in 2009 – he was 21) and that is the worst pain I’ve ever been through. My heart goes out to you.

        1. I’m sorry for your losses, Lorie. My daughter passed away in 2016 at age 29. I’ve read what you’ve shared about your son, Melanie, and it was helpful to me. Thanks.

  9. I often wake up with the, echoes of what I think are lectures inside my brain, but I can’t quite grab on to them in that waking up state, they fade so quickly. This happens a lot. Over the years, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s a sort of cosmic grad school and I’m getting lectures from very wise beings of light – I’ve sometimes called them “Masters” in conversations with close friends about this, or maybe they’re angels, or perhaps the sort of popular conception of how angels are often pictured. Tons of wisdom, trying to be poured into my brain. In the dream state it all makes sense and I know I am filled with a sense of understanding and awe at the volume of knowledge and wisdom out there that we can be filled with. Then I wake up and poof, it’s gone. But the feeling that something significant in that type of dream remains, and sometimes insights seem to come out of “nowhere” to help me when I need help, but I know deep down inside those insights don’t come out of “nowhere.” Maybe your “words” are a similar kind of event or phenomenon? Other people must have something sort of like this happen to them too, I would think. At least, I hope so. It’s awesome! I hope you and Charlie have a wonderful Memorial Day holiday.

    1. Isn’t it interesting how the mind and dreams work? We will never know how it works or what the answers are. Very compelling thoughts though.

  10. Yikes. I thought I was unique – I, too have words “attack” me first thing upon waking up. Sometimes not just words but its names of random people. Baseball players, names from books I’ve read or movies I saw when I was a kid. Sometimes place names or foreign words that I have no idea what they mean – or even if the’re real words.
    I love your blog. I appreciate your honest commenting. Thanks.

    1. I always thank the good lord for sleep.sometimes it is good sleep .other times not.Then I stumble to the kitchen for my coffee.No words.I just want my coffee.

    2. The same thing happens to me (random words and racing thoughts that don’t make any rhyme or reason) when I’m trying to fall asleep. I think it’s anxiety.

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