Sunday, July 08, 2007

Most people think that sadness is the one feeling that people deal with the most in the the aftermath of the loss of a loved one.

Little do they know that anger is a constant companion on the road back to recovery. Learning to deal with that anger has been one of my most frustrating struggles. Some of that anger can be understandable. For example, it might seem silly to some to be angry at God. After all, what exactly is God? What purpose does getting angry at some amorphous "thing" serve? I do believe in God, and it's a good thing I do, because He gets the brunt of my anger. I think he can handle it. He's big enough to handle one puny person's rage.

It's amazing the list of things that can anger me now. On the one hand, sometimes I'm more easily frustrated by some insignificant thing, and on the other hand, sometimes things that would have quickly set me off before now don't faze me. I don't even understand it most days. Nor do I try to.

I try to just deal with it most days. Of course, every once in a while, it's going to get out of hand. But it's not really fair for me to take out my silly anger on someone else. It's on me to deal with it and not force it on someone else. It's no one else's responsibility but mine.

One of the things I miss the most is having that partner-in-crime to talk things over with. He was the one person who always knew how to handle me best.

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

This past weekend, I went to a baseball game. Now usually, that wouldn't really be cause for me to write a post, but something happened at this game.

I sat next to a young boy, who was about 7 or 8, and his mother. For some strange reason, I felt a connection with the young boy and his mother. And that had nothing to do with their Mets hats. It's kinda weird to see a mother and child at a ballgame. What you see far more frequently is a man and his child. Now, a million and one things could've happened for this woman to end up at a game with her child: she could be a divorcee; her husband could be at home, at work, at war; she could be a single by choice parent. But I don't know. I did notice she had a wedding ring on. However, the thing that drew me the most to her was when I caught her wiping a few tears from her eyes.

Crying in public can be therapeutic, but it's also something intensely intimate, and I didn't know exactly how to softly ask her if everything was ok. But I did feel a connection with her. Now, perhaps she's a widow. It's possible. But I'll never know.

Just saw these lyrics, and they kinda describe the way I feel right now:
No one ever tells you that forever feels like home
Sitting all alone inside your head