Tuesday, September 24, 2013

A PARALLEL REALITY OF LOSS


 Self-distrust is the cause of most of our failures. In the assurance of strength, there is strength, and they are the weakest, however strong, who have no faith in themselves or their own powers. ”
— Christian Bovée

I had snatched this quote at some other point in time and came across it again last night, shortly after I had posted about SRB. I wondered if he had suffered self-doubt or had issues with self-worth. From where I sat, SRB was a winner, with enough of the right stuff to do good things in his life, do well for himself. Then again, we rarely know what is on the inside, the frightened and dark side of anyone. SRB just had a life force, and I can feel that it is gone. There's a hole where SRB used to be.

Teresa, Charlotte's mom, posted a comment on yesterday's post and I am going to include it here, since I can't imagine most of you go back to earlier posts for any reason.

Our own experience with a death too young is allowing friends to feel safe to share their experiences with young deaths we had not known of. I had no idea how many friends have lost young siblings and children. I feel like we've been ushered into a parallel reality of loss that's been there all along, invisible to us. I don't know if loss is harder or easier, knowing how present it is for so many.



And who knows why this has affected me so much. I wonder if there are resonances of losing Carl. All I know is that I took half a sleeping med at a reasonably hour and conked out for 11.5 hours solid and then never really woke up today. I was feeling sleepy and instead of napping, I went to the reservoir for a walk (okay, see there I am trying). I came home still sleepy and unable to concentrate so finally I gave it up and napped for a bit, which helped some. Hopefully, I will sleep reasonably well again and have more focus tomorrow. 


1 comment:

  1. I think that one of the new things about mid 20th century and beyond existence is that, for the first time in human history, it was possible to grow up to a reasonable age (30s, 40s, whatever) and quite possibly not come face to face personally with the concept and reality of death. I know it was that way for me. When my grandmother died and certain other relatives, I was not even notified, let alone invited to the funeral. I was blissfully unaware of reality until my parents died and another friend about my age passed away. But before the mid 20th century, everyone knew someone whose younger brother or sister had died unexpectedly at the age of six, someone they had played with. Everyone had siblings who did not make it. Death was something they grew up with. The rest of us had to figure it out late.

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