Hi Hitomi - I read some of this post to my wife who sits beside me as we sit beside her mother who is in the process of completing her life. What you wrote about babbling little ones feels so relevant to where we are now, except little ones have no expectation of being able to manage their own bathroom needs and, occasionally, in terrible moments of lucidity, my mother-in-law does. I have also watched a zillion YouTube shorts while sitting here this last week-and-change. I also know the acute pain of the death day anniversary as it approaches - in Judaism, we call it a yahrzeit and I recently lived through the first one for my platonic life mate, my best friend of 30 years. And I know that your grief is entirely unique to you as mine is to me, even as similar as we and are grief no doubt are. So, reaching across time and space with gratitude that you write and share, and love for you and your broken and whole heart. 💜
I do not write for masses, nor for applause. I write because the words insist on existing, even if they vanish unread. But if you, somewhere, find and feel them—give a sign. I do not need many. I need one. This is not a call for company. It is a signal. Some will notice and ignore it; others will never even perceive it. If you are one of the few for whom it resonates, you already know what to do.
Hi Hitomi - I read some of this post to my wife who sits beside me as we sit beside her mother who is in the process of completing her life. What you wrote about babbling little ones feels so relevant to where we are now, except little ones have no expectation of being able to manage their own bathroom needs and, occasionally, in terrible moments of lucidity, my mother-in-law does. I have also watched a zillion YouTube shorts while sitting here this last week-and-change. I also know the acute pain of the death day anniversary as it approaches - in Judaism, we call it a yahrzeit and I recently lived through the first one for my platonic life mate, my best friend of 30 years. And I know that your grief is entirely unique to you as mine is to me, even as similar as we and are grief no doubt are. So, reaching across time and space with gratitude that you write and share, and love for you and your broken and whole heart. 💜
I do not write for masses, nor for applause. I write because the words insist on existing, even if they vanish unread. But if you, somewhere, find and feel them—give a sign. I do not need many. I need one. This is not a call for company. It is a signal. Some will notice and ignore it; others will never even perceive it. If you are one of the few for whom it resonates, you already know what to do.