I forget sometimes that other people read what I write on this blog. Or maybe I underestimate the impact of my words.

My cousin lives in Minneapolis. We’re not particularly close, although we care about each other. We talk a few times a year. I talk to his mother, my aunt, more often and she keeps us up-to-date on each other.

He texted my husband recently to find out if I was okay. He and my aunt saw my last blog post about being depressed and isolated (see it here) and were worried about me.

I called him back the next day and assured him I was okay, though still somewhat depressed. I think I sounded kind of perky. I tried to. Was that dishonest? I don’t think so. I am okay and also depressed.

Or maybe my therapist is right–I’m grieving. My brother died July 12, 2013. Since he died two years ago, I’ve had one medical issue after another, barely healing from one surgery before needing the next. I told my therapist it feels like emotional PTSD. My friend, Kim, a grief counselor, tells me the symptoms of grief are the same as depression symptoms. Oh. How do I know the difference? Does it matter?

My grief is bigger than my brother dying. I miss having a body that I don’t have to think about. I miss being able to chase after my grandchildren. Adaline asked me to jump with her the other day. I told her I couldn’t really jump. “Oh, you can’t do that anymore, Amma?” she said. I wanted to cry. I was angry because I had to add jumping to my list of things I can’t do. I felt old.

I started this blog when I had one grandchild, Adaline. I wanted her to know me as a person with feelings and fears and hopes and problems. Now I have 2 more grandchildren–Maggie and Atticus. And I still write so they will have a way to know me when I’m not around anymore. I’m getting to know me better, too.

I’m sorry that I worried my aunt and my cousin. I write these posts as the spirit moves me and they reflect the moment that I’m in. Two hours after I finish, I might be far beyond those particular concerns and feelings. But my written words stay in that moment.

Each blog post is just a snapshot, a captured moment in my life.

I think I should write more on days I feel good!

Published in: on July 9, 2015 at 3:56 pm  Comments (9)  
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  1. I guess I’m grieving to cos I find it hard to reconcile this current body with what it was about 3 years ago.

    • I’m sorry you’re having a hard time. Thanks for reading.

      • Counting on the good days. You are welcome!

  2. You give the rest of us having very human experiences permission, Robin, and that is a generous thing. Thank you. for your raw candor.

    • You’re welcome, Suzanne. I don’t know how else to write. Thank you for reading.

  3. When we are young our bodies and selves are one and the same, With age I find myself and my body separating. I am just as young and alive as ever in spirit. My body, that good old friend of mine, is going the way bodies do. So far nothing major has needed repair, but time is at work. You are the spirit inside the body Robin and that spirit is only growing better.

    • It sure is learning lessons in acceptance and letting go, which, I suspect, is the work expected of all aging souls. I love your comments on my writing. They always seem to help. Thank you.

  4. Our bodies require us to broaden our perspective, whether that is wanted or not. Of late, I have had some re-adjusting myself. I still see walking as part of my life. Someday, it may be as a short walk around a park or just around the block. That is not now. I just keep it in mind. Now is more about putting one foot in front of the other, less a waddle and more a gait, if you will.

    I mention these specifics because I know you know the process, Robin. Our issues are not the same but we are facing regular adjustments in how we once moved and even lived. Every day is a snapshot in that regard yet each one that we capture in writing provides a reference for the future. It comes in handy for us. Who knows how many others do and will benefit from such a glimpse? It’s connection, the oneness of us, and it is timeless.

    Thank you, Robin.

    • I’m glad we are connected, though I wish some of the reasons were different. You and your writing certainly help me!

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