Saturday, April 3, 2010

A comma isn't a period

Hey, guys! Been a rough couple of days. My great aunt passed away suddenly Wednesday morning. A blot clot hit her heart, killing her almost instantaneuosly. I needed the venting space, so here am I. Apologies all around for what will probably be a heavy, but hopefully not too awfully bad, blogging session.
It's hard to lose someone you love, someone you're close to, as it is, much less when it's unexpected. I've kept to myself mostly the last few days. Without my best friend Marla, along with Watson, Bits, and Jenny, I probably wouldn't be sane at this moment in time. I'm one of those people that can't let myself cry until I know everyone around me is okay. I've felt like I needed to keep everything bottled up inside, for my mother's sake. She'd gone completely tacit for the last couple of days, not talking to anyone, mostly just crying, hardly been able to get her to eat. My aunt was a second mother to her, more so after my grandmother passed away about 2 years ago. She finally answered some questions for me tonight. Just little stuff, nothing major, but I've never been so relieved to hear someone tell me they wanted a cup of coffee. I may need to back up for a second.
There's a background story with my mother and I. We're both a lot alike, and yet not alike at all. With the crying thing, my mom always told me that I shouldn't cry. It shows weakness, she said, and that if I was going to do so, I should keep it to myself. So for the last 16 years I've gone on not crying very much for anything, and if I did keeping it to myself. I have a hard time letting people in. I try to be a very open, honest person, but I still keep a certain part of myself guarded. Doesn't everyone? Anyhow, from the time I was small, my mother has said things to me that no parent should ever say to their child. I have to forgive her and move on. That's what you do for family. You forgive it and move on, but any time my mom would hurt me so deeply or tell me she didn't want anything to do with me or wish I'd never been born, my aunt would always be there to pick up the pieces. She and my grandmother. My mother isn't a bad person by any means. She'd give someone the shirt off of her back if they needed it, but I guess she must see something about me, that she doesn't like in herself. Usually that's the case. Wow... already sidetracked... let's see. Anyway, losing my aunt was like losing my grandmother all over again. It's a horrible experience. Losing anyone, and the losses have seemed to be coming left and right lately. Finally, today, everything got to me. The taciturn mother, the loss, the grief, the fact that I couldn't get my hair to do what I wanted it to... yeah, when I get upset about hair control, it's bad. I finally broke down. Couldn't hold it in anymore. I'd been crying off and on for the last two days, sometimes hours at a time, and that's when either Watson would shoot a text message, or Bits or Jenny would shoot me an email. That helped more than they'll probably ever know. But today, I lost it. I cried a good solid 4 hours, till I absolutely cried myself out. I had to get everything out because someone had to not cry for my mom. Being an only child, I felt that was my burden to bear. My dad sang at the funeral service, and I was supposed to play for him, but that didn't happen. I just couldn't.
We sat through a song, and then my cousin, who is a preacher, got up and spoke over his mother. He made it through, and did a better job than the pastor of her church. For those of you that may not know me well, I am religious. I don't argue about it, because it's a pointless subject to fuss about. I love people just the same, whether they're Baptist, Catholic, Mormon, Episcopalian, Jewish or believe nothing at all. I'm not going to stand on a soap box and preach at people, or judge them because it isn't my place. I have my views and they have theirs, and I respect that. I do believe in an afterlife. I believe that our soul goes on after death. That thought was lost to me upon hearing of my aunt's death. The thought that, it's permanent. It is on earth, but my cousin made a comment over his mom today and said that it wasn't a period at the end of her life, it was only a comma. That brought a lot of comfort to me, when I needed it. So, now, if you notice a ton of run on sentences in my blogs or emails, it's because the comma is my new favorite punctuation mark because nothing really ends. For instance this blog, I just can't seem to shut up! LOL! Glad you guys love me enough to deal with me, or at least like me! :o)
I do want to wrap it up though by thanking everyone for the thoughts and prayers sent my way this last few days. You guys mean a lot, and you'll never know how much. If I could give everyone of ya'll a great big southern bear hug I would! If I ever meet ya in person... watch out because I AM a hugger! LOL! But not the creepy kind... just realized how... psychotic that sounded. Light hearted bloggage on Monday! Already know what I'm going to babble at you guys about! Have a great one! Till next time,

7 comments:

  1. The comma is good. I fully agree with your cousin on that. Death is a comma, a pause, a transition. It's just frightening b/c we can't see what happens next, we can't follow that loved one on and make sure they're okay, we just have to trust, and pray, and grieve, and pick ourselves up and keep living until our comma comes along. Your hours long crying stint was also a comma for you: inevitable and necessary. I always get SO ill that tears betray me when I'm angry/frustrated. But, in the right circumstance, tears are so cleansing to the body and to the soul. They make you stronger. Just like with exercise, you have to weaken the muscle in order to build it. Think of the tears as being the weakness needed to build strength.

    I heard Stephen Curtis Chapman's new song on the radio last week, about seeing Heaven in his daughter's face. It ended with him pointing out that he's looking forward to seeing Heaven reflected in her face as she greets him and they go to see Jesus. I was balling before the song was half-way over, vicariously feeling the pain of losing a child, admiring his faith and knowledge that he'll see her again....just in a little while. As a songwriter/singer, he had to write that song to heal his heart. That's how he copes; writing is how you cope. Write as much as you need. Your friends will read and love you and support you as we always do.

    Love and Hugs,
    HJ

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  2. Thanks, H! That means a lot! :o) Love you too, and thanks so much for the prayers, thoughts, and support!

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  3. Hey que honda homes? Okay unless you have a Spanish speaking person translate that to you; you will think I am talking about a car and your last name. Hahaha! Idk if you've watched anything with cholo's in it, but yeah shutting up now. By any chance am I the same Jenny you mentioned twice on this post? If so grazie! If not then I'm a total bone head. Yeah girl you talk too much! I had to drink a Red Bull to continue reading. I'm just teasing! Yeah like I'm one to talk. I can be the burro(donkey) from Shrek sometimes. Lol. Hey bring on the comma's my friend!
    Cheers!

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  4. Yes, ma'am! You are the Jenny to which I am referring! :o) You're right, I thought you were talking about the car... LOL! I know I talk to much.... pride myself on it. You can homestly say you never feel like I've slighted you because I'll talk to anything that'll stand still! LOL! Peace out! :o)

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  5. Hey, Jenny B! Can't you put that in Italian??? You know... a language I can UNDERSTAND!!!!! LOL! ;o)

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  6. Lol! Hey I don't believe in an eye for eye cos it leaves the whole world blind. In this case I will make the exception. Hey! Miss I know 3 languages! I gotta work with my strength. It gives you all the more reason to watch Dora and Diego. Hahaha!

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