<Sidenote First>>>...The night before the support group meeting, Jen appeared in my dreams again.  We were back at high school age.  I sat down with her at a lunch table, but it felt like we hadn't 'officially' met yet.  Awkward stares and moments of silence.  I started to talk and then she was standing, staring, concerned.  It had a feeling like, "How dare you talk to me, you don't know me."  Well, maybe not that harsh, but definitely a…

I thought I was done. Recovery in process. Moving on...But the Tilt-A-Whirl does not stop. Or maybe it is more accurate to say that my mind does not let it stop.

The meet-up happened!

Of course, it went even better than I expected.  Intellectually, I knew it would.  Emotionally, I was shaking in my boots.  Jennifer’s sister has always been incredibly open, warm, encouraging, and welcoming.  There was no reason to expect any different.  However, I did start to experience Dallas’ devious (in a fun…

So fast forward to mid-2020.  Dreams with Jennifer still occur, at an approximate monthly rate.  The emotional impact is not as debilitating as in previous months.  There is still this nagging notion that there is a message that needs to be transferred.  Still don't know what the message is or if I am delivering or receiving the message, just that there is a message.  Then it happens that I have an excuse to go through Topeka, to possibly meet Jennifer’s sister.  In…

My grief journey seemed to be stabilizing…I literally went through all the ‘normal’ steps, processes, and feelings again, 30 years after the event, as though I was going through it the first time.  I have mentioned how I stuffed it down, was not able (or willing) to process or adequately deal with it in real time.  Then 30 years go by, a couple of dreams bring the wound to the forefront, and BAM! I am in the thick of it.  In…

Looking back at the totality of Jennifer’s accident, death, and ultimately my grieving process, it is strange that my psyche knew that I could not handle the loss and delayed it…albeit 30 years.  While I went through a grieving process in 1988, it (obviously) was not enough.  Perhaps abbreviated to save my sanity.  Whatever the reasons, it seems that my mind (or soul) knew that I was not able to deal with the magnitude of this…

I feel myself slipping.  I take medicines to alleviate the spiral down.  I have renewed skills in putting on the happy face…outside.  When I get home, I just want to be in bed.  It is not fair to my family.  It is not me, in the normal sense.  It is not fair or right for so many reasons.  But I cannot stop.

I…

(Pardon the length, brevity is not in my nature and this has been bottled far too long.)

The Notification

I was going to school at Kansas State, but that day had returned to Topeka to visit friends.  I rolled into my parents’ house about 3am on the 18th of October and went in to squeeze my mother’s foot, as was the custom to let them know I was…