Being in Heartbreak

July 21st was supposed to be a day that quietly recognized and honored a night one year ago known privately as “when we fell off the cliff.”

Instead, my mother died and my heart nose-dived into a black abyss.  My mind feels like mush, my limbs are leaden and writing is suddenly a gut-wrenching chore.

However, I know from experience that writing is also my salvation.  I’ve just never written through this particular level of numbness.

I can tell you I don’t want to drink, use drugs or smoke cigarettes.  I’m not even particularly interested in eating.  I am blessed that those desires are missing.

So I sit in my sadness, praying, waiting, being.  It’s hard as hell, but it is exactly what Mom would want me to do.  She’d say, “You’re tougher than you know.  The pain will ease one day and until that time, you can do this.  One day at a time.”

Bless you, Mom.  I’m counting on your continued help.  I love you beyond time and space.

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