Thursday, February 26, 2009

In Like A Sneaky, Cave-Dwelling Lion

I just realized that February is almost over, and greeted that thought with a cold chill and deep dread.

And then I responded to that thought with, 'Come ON get over your bad-ass moping self already. You can't have an annual springtime depression. If you can see it coming, you can avoid it.'
And then: This is not a head-on collision anymore.
And then: Deja vu.

Seriously. Let's look at the track record here.

The short story is:
Elijah would have been six years old on March 31st, 2009.
But he won't.


So if you are looking for another train wreck raw experience, hopefully evolved....then perhaps you have come to the right place this month - hang on!
If you are one of my thirty one fourteen faithful (OR RANDOM) readers who has given up on me because I cannot seem to:
  • post regularly
  • post anything of content
  • post about life
  • post about reality
  • post enough about death
  • stop posting about death
  • do any of that shit right

...well then, welcome! Welcome back wholeheartedly, because all of those things are true, which makes you all right. Instead of me.

And this next month is sure to be a lovely walk through the blacks and browns of my poo-filled emotions. And the lovely lilacs and blues and vanillas which are Elijah.


Hang on.

16 comments:

Sarah said...

I subscribe to your feed, and I'll be reading and thinking about you and Elijah lots this month, and wishing you peace. (((hugs)))

Headless Mom said...

I'm here, too. Hangin' on with you, girl!

Denise said...

aww girlie hgs

Rachel Inbar said...

Hanging around.

I'm all for just being who you are (and, hey, you *did* bribe me with a lollipop :-))

Lunasea said...

I'm not going anywhere. (((Hugs)))

(But I still want some strawberry jam sometime).

mamadaisy said...

hugs and strength to you.

furiousBall said...

WTF???? Rachel gets a lollipop?

Bullshit. Bullshit, I say.

Monica said...

I am a relatively new reader, but I am here to stay. Work through it however you need to.

Denise said...

Just wanted to say again that i am thinking of you and Elijah. Love you.

Jamey said...

Woooah, I get it with the depression/do-I-have-to-feel-this-AGAIN? anniversaries. I got blindsided by one of them EVERY year for like, thirty years. It was a surprise every time!

Anyway, I'm here and listening and paying attention to the poo and the vanilla.

nakedjen said...

sweet sweet gwendomama. i will never, ever ever use the words train wreck and your name in the same sentence (unless we both happen to be traveling by train in europe and it wrecks? my...how exciting would that be?! cupcakes for everyone while we get it all sorted!) because, honestly, you're nothing short of miraculous to me and have saved my ass from despair far too many times and given me hope when i was ready to drown.

so...

i promise that i will always listen. for as long as you need to talk. always.

and will love you more and more.

Tracey said...

I don't know how the spring will ever be the same for you. It sounds as though you are on the right track to accepting that. And perhaps expecting it to suck will make it a bit easier? It won't be a surprise anymore, you know?

I'm so sorry that your springs aren't filled with holding your sweet Elijah. Hugs, hon....

jenn said...

I'm here. Still reading and listening. Sending you love as you remember your little boy.

Bree said...

{{Hugs}}

sarafoop said...

I may not always comment, but I'm still here. *hugs*

Mary said...

I'm a new reader -I've been here just a few times - but know about that dread as "the season" approaches. Keep writing -- I was just thinking about all the stuff I have in my head that I still want to write about grief (my son has a disability) and how I will probably bore people with it. Yet, when I read others' experiences, and they are all different, I soak it up. It is so reassuring to know I am not alone, to hear how others describe the similar (and different) feelings. I am drawn to the authenticity. So, keep writing!