I have found that honoring a person or animal I've lost by lighting a candle and remembering why I loved and enjoyed them is powerful and cathartic. I think it's the focus on why they meant so much to me and thanking them for enriching my life while they were here.
I'm so sorry about your dog, Sean. Even as someone who is generally pretty good about confronting (and accepting) his own grief, I have to say that it always seems to find new ways to sneak up and surprise me when I least expect it...
Sean, sitting here in a hospital bed, post-tibial nail insertion (was in a bad motorcycle accident a couple days ago), I’ve found your posts to be golden bit of catharsis for me. I am very sorry for your loss.
When I crashed, I was accelerating to merge into the HOV lane on the freeway.
And my reaction to the car in front of my coming to a dead stop was nothing short of Superman-esque. I skidded into a halt, but my speed was too great and I slammed shin-first into that car’s bumper.
Of course the compound fracture on a hot summer morning might cause anyone to lose their shit, but, knowing that I would not be able to continue running, a pastime I had come to embrace and enjoy so much that I even returned to compete at school this year, that was the tipping point, and I felt mourning for my good health and welfare, and guilty that I’d made such a risky move on the highway.
Sadly, I may not be able to catch a run soon, but I am emboldened to fall back on what was already lacking, which I had put off to do more stimulating activities such as running and commuting by motorcycle to compensate rather than address the problem directly.
I have found that honoring a person or animal I've lost by lighting a candle and remembering why I loved and enjoyed them is powerful and cathartic. I think it's the focus on why they meant so much to me and thanking them for enriching my life while they were here.
Sometimes someone else's narrative is the conduit to feel one's own elusive emotions and this read was that for me.
You're welcome?
haha yeah it's a good thing!
I'm so sorry about your dog, Sean. Even as someone who is generally pretty good about confronting (and accepting) his own grief, I have to say that it always seems to find new ways to sneak up and surprise me when I least expect it...
Yea, it never goes away but the pain get be mitigated.
How do I grieve? I don't know yet 😬
Maybe you run?
Sean, sitting here in a hospital bed, post-tibial nail insertion (was in a bad motorcycle accident a couple days ago), I’ve found your posts to be golden bit of catharsis for me. I am very sorry for your loss.
When I crashed, I was accelerating to merge into the HOV lane on the freeway.
And my reaction to the car in front of my coming to a dead stop was nothing short of Superman-esque. I skidded into a halt, but my speed was too great and I slammed shin-first into that car’s bumper.
Of course the compound fracture on a hot summer morning might cause anyone to lose their shit, but, knowing that I would not be able to continue running, a pastime I had come to embrace and enjoy so much that I even returned to compete at school this year, that was the tipping point, and I felt mourning for my good health and welfare, and guilty that I’d made such a risky move on the highway.
Sadly, I may not be able to catch a run soon, but I am emboldened to fall back on what was already lacking, which I had put off to do more stimulating activities such as running and commuting by motorcycle to compensate rather than address the problem directly.
Thank you for sharing and being vulnerable here. Hope you heal up well