Talking

I was talking to my therapist today, recounting all that has occurred in the past two weeks. I was amazed at how much had happened: I'd been out of town for 3 1/2 days visiting my parents, was told that my parents wouldn't be moving here, accompanied Frankye to the hospital for surgical removal of questionable skin lesions on her body, had lunch with Lori - first time since May, visited my ex and was amazed a how differently we now live, was moved out of the private office I had at work and into a cubicle, and endured the relentless media blitz of the 5th anniversary of 9/11/2001.

It wasn't until I discussed all the other stuff that I was able to talk about 9/11, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the grieving I am still doing about the destruction of the trade towers and the massive loss of life - then and now. Part of my grieving included Hurricane Katrina and the lack of response to citizens in dire circumstances and life threatening conditions. We talked about it being cummulative and not just in the past five years or so. But in the course of my life, the history I have witnessed or participated in that has left scars that silently sunk into the texture of who I am now at age 54.

I talked about remembering a time when I believed that survival at all costs was the most important thing. I talked about what it felt like to have given that up - to instead consciously wanting to not survive a horrific attack or devastating natural occurrance. I asked if she thought I was depressed. She said no. She said she thinks that cumulative grief layers on top of one another. She said no one can grieve 9/11 because we went to war so quickly afterward and there has been so much death and violence since then. That coupled with the horror of the tsunami, followed by Katrina, has created layer upon layer of grief and sadness that can't be healed. The times we live in are so volatile that there is no time in between horrors to grieve and heal and adjust. That sounds right to me.

What I am left with is simple joy at the simplicity in my life. I like the quiet dirt road I live on. I enjoy being around the animals that live with us. I enjoy Frankye and the routine we have settled into. I like my job. I like my friends and the laughter we always enjoy together. I like the 9 year old car I drive, the dirt around the house, the high trees that house many birds, squirrels and raccoons and the quiet at night when wildlife is settling in. I enjoy painting and drawing in my sketchbooks in the evening while listening to the television or talking with Frankye. When I pass out of this life someday I will go with no regrets and missing nothing. I am already holding on to it all less tightly.