Needs.
We all have them. Some are basic: food, water, oxygen. Some are complex: a sense of belonging, happiness, satisfaction. Some are materialistic, some emotional, some realistic and some based in an abstract fantasy world of our own conceptualization.
Lately I've been feeling the need to write and yet I find myself without the words, the time, the energy, the patience.
I have the inspiration, but I'm not certain anyone would have the interest in the end result of my labors.
Trapped in my is a story of hope, joy, loss, pain, excruciating sorrow, devastation and, ultimately, strength and resolution.
I call the story "Reclaiming The Sun." It is a true story about my life and focuses on what I've been through since the death of our daughter Sonne.
I've started writing it a few different times. I first started writing around the second anniversary of her death. I felt compelled then because so many people kept telling me I was remarkable or strong or carried myself with "such grace."
Clearly I was putting on a good act.
I managed to get nine fairly sterilize pages written.
I tried again about six month later while pregnant with our third daughter. This time I managed to write 19 pages. They were a bit more honest. A bit more descriptive. Yet, after having just reread them this evening, they are still sterile.
I've come to the realization that I'm not sure that I know how to write this story. I don't know how to put those emotions onto the page because when I'm really thinking about and honest about it the tears flow without hesitation and without remorse. I lose that grace which others describe and become the absolute wreck people expected me to be four years ago.
And that's not how I want to honor Zo.
And yet I still have this *need* to tell her story. To share with the world all that she gave me and all that I lost when she was taken from us. How her death changed my perspective so drastically that I at times I cannot relate to most of the people around me and at other times I'm so filled with compassion that I believe there is no difference in the loss of life or the loss of a favorite toy.
I need to find the words.
And at the same time I feel like others need me to get over this. Like there is some unwritten rule which says grief can last only so long and then we have to get on with life.
To that I say grief is a part of life and I have not stopped living. Sonne lives through me. She lives through Eric and Morgen and Aurora. She lives on because we keep her memory alive. To suggest that we tuck her away for the comfort of everyone is simply unrealistic and cruel, and I don't have the time or energy for cruelty.
I barely have the time for my own needs.
