Writing without the deeply personal is not the whole story of grief. Especially as I move away from my own early days of grief, it’s important to link back to the person I was back then. I don’t want to forget.
Most of you are in those early days. My Friday posts come from my early days. We stick together like this, the you you are now, the me I was then. We’re in this together.
On that note, a post from year one, or just barely after the year one date, as I left one temporary landing pad for another.
I did not used to be an angry person. These days, I am quite angry, and angry that I am now an angry person on top of that. So angry that life took the pretty decently happy, silly, peaceful, non-angry person I was and shoved me through the anger-maker, like a giant angry-sausage making machine. No one needed more anger in the world.
I was a pretty good “force of love” before, even if useful only to myself. I ain’t no “force of love” these days, and knowing that makes me feel even farther away from who I was when he was here, from our life. And it makes me feel even more crazy. This is not my world, this was not my world, what freaking planet IS this?
I think I need to find something that makes me feel even a little bit like myself.
My time at the farm ended yesterday. I had been volunteering at a very dysfunctional farm, off and on, since March or so. A place where no social skills were required, which was good, because I have none. A place where the entire place is in constant, massive disarray, so there is always something to do.
Since the anniversary, my interest in slogging out there has seriously waned. But I kept going. I was out there yesterday, picking tomatoes, pulling carrots, and just thought – oh, this is my last time out here. It wasn’t a “thinking about whether I am done here or not” thought, it was a decision made for me, somewhere in me.
And though the place is a constant vexation, I started feeling very sad to leave it, to say goodbye to all of it. I felt like I was saying goodbye to life, to ONE MORE THING that has to go. Which is silly, because this place was not part of our life before, I only found it After. But I think it is just the leave-taking, triggering off the Real Things.
Time is moving along, and that is just sad. So many things that would have been easily let go of, with not even a thought, are suddenly massively precious.
Anyway, I am heading off to a dairy farm today to see if they need fall and winter help with their creatures. Working with animals was what I’d wanted from the start. For a brief time last winter, I worked on an alpaca farm, weighing babies, giving shots, holding animals down, breathing with them while they had little minor surgeries done. I felt like the old me: sit here and breathe with this creature, and then go muck out that stall. Sit here and send love, be present. But the farm owners had just hired a young man to manage all the regular daily chores, and in deep winter, there wasn’t much for me to do.
I went to the plant world instead. In the plant world, I often spent whole hours being pissy while weeding or trimming or planting. Then I would realize how pissy I was being, and choose to do something else, sometimes successfully, sometimes not. But animals require just that little bit more conscious attention, and I often notice this new angry person has been much quieter during that time I’ve been tending critters.
Being with non-human animals, I snap back into myself, without even noticing it. I only notice it after-the-fact, like – oh hey, there you are. I remember you.
I am so sad, for me, for the me I used to be. Shit. I hadn’t been crying, now I am. Now I am. The me I used to be, so angry now. So lost. So rarely do I remember who I was. How easy to just be angry. To allow that to be what I am.
I need to make myself a list, as my widowed friend did, of all the things I still love. Though I think I will call it “things that don’t suck,” because the angry person I am now needs just that little bit of edge.
How about you? Have you become an angrier person than you were before death arrived in your life? If you were to make a “things that don’t suck” list, what would be on it? Let us know in the comments.