A Symphony of Analogies

Driving in the car seems to be the catalyst for my brain to think, think, think away. Busy at work, aside from the moments someone attempts to engage in conversation about my issues, I never seem to think about it. "It" being my loss. When I am home, I am usually tired from work, and like to spend time with Tommy, and he doesn't give in to my moments where I just want to crawl into bed with the covers over my head. So, my alone time comes when I commute to and from work. During this time, I seem to think about my day, conversations, issues, and Riley.



Some moments I feel like the thought of Riley is so far away, a fuzzy memory in a distant place. Sometimes a word, phrase or thought will draw me back into a moment around his death, and I can't escape the overwhelming feeling of loss. I remember bits and pieces, like a whirling thought tornado in my mind, some mental pictures sharp and in focus, others distorted and torn. I brew, harbor and obsess over a thought, racking back and forth in my mind. I have conversations with myself (not crazy ones) just conversations where I come up with cute analogies, For Death. Grief. Loss.



I feel the process of "dealing with grief" is like moving a mountain size pile of rocks from one location to another. Some rocks are small, pebble size, and you can easily manage them with no help. Some rocks are the size of boulders. To try to move the mountain of rocks by yourself, in one try is impossible. You have to be willing to accept help when you need it to move the large rocks you can't move by yourself. (therapy, friends, family). You have to work the mountain down, little by little, until you look back and realize that you accomplished it. A look back and you see how much work you have done to get yourself past the emotional trials, and from moving all those rocks, you are stronger. When I have issues working through grief, I feel like I just walk up and kick the pile of rocks, sending them flying about, making more of a mess. For me, I feel like a lot of the time I just put a big blanket over the pile, and pretend that it's not there. What's that? Oh, that's just a giant pile of blankets. Move along now. Nothing to see here.



People ask me about "It". I can feel them tip-toeing around the question. I have very simple responses sometimes. Sometimes I give an analogy.



Sometimes life throws you a curve ball. And sometimes life takes a baseball bat and proceeds to beat the shit out of you. When you can finally regain consciousness and open your swollen, busted up eyes, you realize you still have to play the game.



Sometimes life gives you lemons, and you can make lemonade. And sometimes life takes a cheese grater to your ass, then takes those lemons and squeezes lemon juice into your open wounds. Ouch.



Work is rough right now, with a foggy cloud of uncertainty looming over us. Some days I want to live in a bubble. Problems seem to pop up all the time. But whatever happens, I know that I have been through worse. And life will certainly go on. Maybe a little beaten up and with a lemon fresh ass, but what are you going to do? Just one day at a time. One rock at a time.