It's the little things that get you...

[jducoeur]

The hole in my life right now is so profound, but it's the little things that keep slapping me in the face. In this case, the junk mail, both physical and virtual. (We share the waks.org domain, so all the junk lands in our common Comcast inbox.) The notion of not having to ask her what I can throw out is hitting me remarkably hard...

Comments

[tashabear.livejournal.com]

Oh... *hug*

God, I know how that goes. Wolfie and I never shared an email address, but it's been over a year and I still can't bring myself to look at his computer. I don't know that I ever will. But I'm okay with that; I don't have to.

Nor do you right now. It's okay to step away from that sort of thing right now. It's just junk mail; nothing bad will happen if it waits. *hug*

[jducoeur]

Well, the problem is that it's the common inbox -- the junk mail actually gets in the way of real stuff that's just got the generic Comcast address instead of a more-focused waks.org one. So I do actually have to deal with it, at least to figure out what's junk and what isn't.

And there isn't really any mystery here: I mean, I know what's real and what's not. And I even got the rundown, weeks ago, of which bits of the junk mail *she* cared about, at least of the ones who mailed every day.

But it's still a nagging reminder. I've been throwing a lot of it away based on her guidelines, but frequently turning to her for specific messages and asking. (A sale on good wool coats from Pendleton, or an sla-deng request that she might actually have the answer to.) So every one of those spam lists pushes the point into my face, over and over.

[tashabear.livejournal.com]

I still get snail mail for him the NRA and the World Wildlife Fund. I get it. I promise you, it does get more bearable.

(Of course, I still get credit card offers under my maiden name and I will have been Dooley for 7 years in June. The wheels of junk mail turn exceedingly slow.)

[the-nita.livejournal.com]

For 6 months after my father died, the voicemail at his house was still his voice. Every time I called my step-mom to discuss my pregnancy or plans for dad's celebration of life, it hit like a fist in my stomach...

*hugs*

[marysdress.livejournal.com]

Over the last few months, I'd gotten used to not being able to just pick up the phone or IM to share things or ask her things or gossip. I hated it, but I'd at least gotten used to it and I figured I would when we could talk. The thing that is killing me now is all the things being said about or because of her that I want to talk to her about. She would have loved the jokes about her organizing things for St. Peter, and there's a post that just went up on the Crescent list that's quite remarkable too.

Ugh.

[jducoeur]

*Hug*. Well, please ping me for venting and schmoozing if you feel like it sometimes: we're rather in the same boat here...

[marysdress.livejournal.com]

Same back at you.

[ellid.livejournal.com]

Take good care of yourself - grief can strike at the oddest times and in the oddest ways. Please don't be afraid to ask for help, no matter how trivial the request may be. We all mourn in different ways and on different timetables.

Know that you're in my thoughts and prayers. God keep you safe and ease your heart.

Sarah Davies

[cvirtue.livejournal.com]

It's kind of like an ambush. The big things you can brace for. The little random things hit harder because they are not anticipated.

Sympathies.

[alexx-kay.livejournal.com]

Quote files can be useful when I have no words myself:

"As a ready example, I could cite the death of a loved one: the physical presence is gone, broken down to its constituent chemicals, its constituent atoms. That person does not exist physically anymore as a discrete physical entity. The Idea-Presence of that person cannot die, however. It hangs around and wakes you up crying at four in the morning. Five years later it taps you on the shoulder while you're doing the washing up and it makes you smile."
-- Alan Moore in correspondence with Dave Sim about _From Hell_

[calygrey.livejournal.com]

This.

And, I'm so sorry. You both deserved better.

[ilaine-dcmrn.livejournal.com]

This. I vividly remember breaking into tears in my mom's basement when I realized the sheet of the NYTimes I was wrapping a piece of glassware in was the crossword page - and it was blank.

[jducoeur]

Yeah. I'm bracing myself to cancel the newspapers -- they were always her thing to read, and they're just wasted paper for me. But it's remarkably hard on a psychic level...

[dlevey.livejournal.com]

Do you need help with such things that need to get done but you can't bring yourself to do? Coming up with such a list would mean it gets done without subjecting you to the pain of doing it.

[jducoeur]

Hmm. Possible; I'll think about that. The question is mainly whether it's useful for me to push through that stuff, for some necessary psychic scar tissue. I'll have to chew on it...

[dlevey.livejournal.com]

I daresay you'll have as much scar tissue as you'll need. For the unnecessary experiences, allowing others to help gives them the opportunity to give you the gift the ardently want, but don't know how. Don't punish yourself simply for the sake of doing so.

[sichling.livejournal.com]

*hugs*

[ariannawyn.livejournal.com]

Yes, you're right, the little things are the hardest. And I agree with Cynthia's comment that it's the unexpectedness that does it. The biggest gut punch for me was the person who called on the phone several months after, asking to speak to Johan. They didn't know, but to me it felt like a cruel slap.

Hugs and good wishes for managing the emotional roller coaster.

She will be missed, most of all by you, but you are still here and many people care about you, too. Hang on to that.

[jducoeur]

The biggest gut punch for me was the person who called on the phone several months after, asking to speak to Johan. They didn't know, but to me it felt like a cruel slap.

Yeah, I dread that conversation, and it will surely happen at some point...

[russkay.livejournal.com]

It's been five years since Harriet passed, but even now I sometimes get phone calls asking for her. It's still a wrench.

[lumineaux.livejournal.com]

Hugs and sympathies. I can't imagine how you're feeling - you two were so wonderful together.

[bkdelong.livejournal.com]

I didn't get a chance to know her well but I know many who did and the words "grace", "kindness", "tenacity", "perfection" and other grand qualities have been floating around the various communities those who are speaking of her are in. I will remember her smile and the her kind voice the few times I did hear her speak.

But what I am also noticing is the community that is gathering around to support you, family, those very close to the two of you who are now grieving at her loss and as tashabear learned (and no doubt others who speak of their own bereavement) the healing process hurts and takes time but as the responses to this post and the memorial posts, comments and well-wishes around the Net are testimony, you have a community ready, willing and able to be there day, night or the in-betweens whenever you need someone. Just ask - not knowing someone well doesn't mean there are those of us who won't jump at the drop of a hat to listen, be at someone's door or offer services in a time of need.

That's just what a community does - just say the word.

[lauradi7.livejournal.com]

Yes. Whatever the "bring a casserole dish" equivalent is in your life, please ask.