♦Welcome to another edition of the Open Book Blog Hop!♦
Topic #137
We’ve all experienced loss, what is a loss that has really struck
you? Compare losing someone you knew with someone you
didn’t, and your thoughts on how it affected you.
Welcome back to another edition of the Open Book Blog Hop! If you’re new to the series, the authors included are grateful for your reads and appreciate, even more so, when you share our writings with your friends. If you’re new to the series, welcome aboard. The authors engage and impress weekly. Be prepared to become a regular reader.
We all have experienced loss, that is an absolute truth. I’ve written about my losses a few times on The Blue Honor Blog. These are the times that bring us closer to our humanity, reminding us of what life boils down to. There is both a warning to not take for granted the day and the knowing that the raw feelings we have in the moment of loss suggest that we have indeed been living. How each of us processes loss reveals so much about an individual.
A loss that has stuck with me is one I experienced in my childhood. I was rather attached to my great grandmother, and her passing left a heavy mark. You see, just after my mother had given birth to me, she hemorrhaged. We nearly lost her. After a brief hospital stay, she came home to rest. It was my great gran who came to help my father with me. No doubt, I imprinted on her. Whenever she came for visits to my father’s parent’s house, I shot like a streak of lightning to be there, too. They lived just down the hill from us. My memory of her is cuddling on the couch. I couldn’t tell you what was on the television, just that something was on. I just wanted to be beside her. The other memory I have, is her in the hospital. She had an upset stomach and my dad asked if she wanted some pepto, and would get a nurse. I was scared. Death hung about, and I knew full well what death was. Another memory, she tested her blood regularly for sugar. Great gran had pancreatic cancer, I later learned. There was no escaping the angel waiting to reap a soul. Come home from Girl Scout Camp, I collapsed to my knees at the news of her passing. My good friend and her mom were there, and I heard her mother urge her out. I did not move from my mom’s lap. I just cried for a while. The last memory, time had past, and I was entering my room to go to bed. The full moon was out, and the light shown across my bed. For some reason, I felt like that was her. Ever since, the moonlight has been her quiet presence looking over me. Great gran’s death, as I’ve told others, took part of me with her—a large part.
This loss may have spurred on depression. It’s not something I ever got over. That’s why the loss of my dog, Sadie, this past April worried me. I feared I would wallow. When I adopted her, I knew she would break my heart like this one day. She meant a great deal to me. Though it has only been a few months, I notice that her passing has hung on strong. The suddenness of it is probably why. Unlike the loss of others, who were quite elderly and sick, the loss of someone you believe should have more life strikes much harder. The others passed away after much suffering, so it strikes as more of a mercy. My Uncle Skip‘s passing felt like an injustice too, because he was one half of a couple who still had a lot of life ahead of them together. It’s never felt right, like he was stolen.
In 2017, the world lost one of my favorite people. I can’t say that I knew her well. Her books should grace my shelves, but still don’t because the budget sends me other ways. You must know of whom I speak: Carrie Fisher. She was a childhood hero because of Star Wars. This grand figure became a hero to me in adulthood because of her struggle with mental health and addiction. Carrie was also a great writer. Her razor wit and intelligence rank high on my list of inspirations. Oh, and she was a huge animal lover.
Carrie’s loss really bothered me. I went to see the newest Star Wars film at that time right after her and her mother passed. When the cgi Leia showed up, I cried. I even whimpered a little when my emotions took over. I have not ever felt that strongly at the death of any celebrity. But, Carrie wasn’t just any celebrity. She was my princess, my hero, and a figure that marked a large part of my childhood. I joke that my parents are Han and Leia (they sort of did look like them back in the day). So, her loss really hurt. But, Carrie’s passing I grew to accept. I don’t like it in the least, but I accept it. I don’t like that I will not see anything new from her, but I have the work she has done, and those are a pure joy (what I have read or seen), and something I look forward to (those that I have not read or seen).
Let’s hop on over to see what the other author’s have to say about this topic…
Coping with the death of a loved one is hard. It something we all have to go through, but it’s true that time tends to dull the raw edges.
We lost our dog on July 4 and we both keep feeling her presence, or lack of it, in the house ever-so-often. Routines have been shifted, sounds we had grown accustomed to are now absent. Even going blueberry picking didn’t feel right this year because I didn’t have to defend my bucket from her predations. What I miss most is her wonderful, soul-deep smile. I’m sad she’s gone, but so glad that she was a part of our lives! And she is still a part of our lives, even though she’s not with us now, because the memories will always be with us.
I’m so glad I took as many photos and videos as I did. they really helped me to get to a better place. I still don’t accept it, but I can be upset without devolving into a mess. She was like a child to me. I’m just angry that her start was so bad (she was a rescue), and that she left with such pain, too. She deserved far better. Having dreamt of her shortly after, I think she’s in a better place, but that may just be my mind soothing me.
She may have left in pain, but she left knowing your love, too. And I firmly believe that made her passage easier.
It’s the worst feeling to think you may not have expressed your love of them in a way they understood, but I think she knew how much she meant to me. I hope that.