Grief

I'm tired of grieving.  These past three years have had so much continuous grief.  I lived through it, learned from it, at times been blessed by it and have been thrown on my ass with it.  I could continue on with grief- its still atmospheric, always will be a bit.  I'm strong enough to do it, but I don't need anyone to see that.  I know it in my bones so why linger.  I am just flat out tired of talking about it- sharing, commiserating, one upping, proving, martyring, glorifying and being surprised by grief.  

I noticed recently that southernerners are a bit morbid in this vein.  I caught myself saying to Matt when we were home in Tennessee, "Oh Robert Urich.  He was a great actor.  Died of cancer."  Southerners, you can hear me say it, right?  You know the exact cadence. But why does that stay in my mind that way?  Why do I share that detail?  It made my head tilt in interest, but also made me smile.  I come by it honestly I guess.  

Now the summer is starting.  Every green thing in Los Angeles will turn brown eventually, but not me.  This is another natural progression I don't have to follow whole heartedly, habitually.  Instead this summer is for scooping my life up with a big fisherman's net and seeing what is substantial enough to stay and what I will watch and let slip through the knots.  I am so ready to let go of so much and the first wave goodbye is to grief.  I am tired of mourning so many could haves, or worse should have beens.  Goodbye sticky, ruddy grief.  I'm done with you.