Tis The Season… For Grieving

I’m still feeling all the meh’s… I’m still battling to claw my way out of a deep, dark, funk that has tears burning in the back of my eyes constantly and the corners of my mouth turned down in a frown.

I’ve started a few blog posts in the last few days but get half way through writing them and then find myself thinking “ugh, what’s the point, who cares, I don’t f*cking feel like it!”and land up deleting what has been written.

I could tell you about all the things I do have to look forward to, my mom arriving today for Ava’s birthday weekend, or Ava’s party on Saturday, going on leave, how great work has actually been going. But, these things that should be bringing me immense amounts of joy just aren’t.

I could tell you about Ava’s amazing school report and how well she did, how she shined and exceeded everyone’s expectations, despite being almost a year younger than some of the kids in her class, but I lack the energy to find the words to describe how very proud of her I am.



I could tell you about the amazing Christmas parties we attended last weekend, one for Ava’s old playschool, soon to be Hannah’s new playschool. Or about the amazing picnic we had at the Walter Sisulu Botanical gardens on Sunday with Ava’s school teachers from this year and the other kids and parents from her class. How I hung out with some really cool mom’s and drank way too much champagne.

I could tell you how much Hannah hates Santa!



Or how I had to punish Ava on Tuesday, while hiding my smile after she sassed her bestie’s dad and told him she was going to kick him in the “peanuts”!

But mostly I’m just weighted down by sadness. Travers’s passing has had a far greater impact on me personally than I could have imagined. Knowing that he was just a couple of years older than I am has made me so much more aware of my own mortality, of what a precious gift life is. But standing on the sidelines and watching Lisa-Marie’s utter devastation is just too much for me to bare and it’s taken its toll on me. Watching someone stand in the ruins of their life and so bravely try to keep it together… it’s just too much, just too f*cking much. Reading her blog with her letters to her Dear Beary… it makes me ache, it makes my throat constrict and tears roll. I feel helpless, there is nothing anyone can do to help a loved one through this type of grief and loss. I can only just stand there on the sidelines and watch. Having had my own enormous share of my own kind of grief, I will NOT, I will NOT offer any kind of platitude of empty words, they’re meaningless at a time like this.

I’m sad. So very very sad. My joie de vivre is just gone!



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