I haven't written in a very long time. I often find myself starting to write something and then I get to a point where I know someone's feelings will be hurt if I publish it, so I put the post down. Other times I find myself with so much to say that I don't know how to say it, so rather than say too much, I say nothing. This is my attempt to say something... if anyone's feelings are hurt in the process, I do apologize.
About a year ago, there was a death in my extended family. It was traumatic and unexpected. Nothing could have prepared anyone for it. It was just before a holiday, and that first of many firsts that the year to come would hold galvanized the pain of that person's death. I became a caretaker for a loved one who was consumed by this pain. Not that I wouldn't do it all over, but my approach would have been different. I think it was right around then that life lost its flavor. I cried every moment that I was alone (on the way to work, in the bathroom, on the way home, as I cooked dinner... the tears never ran dry), I stopped crocheting, I stopped baking, I barely cleaned my house, I had to force myself to work on my studies for my coven, things such as getting our Yule/Christmas trees felt like a chore and I couldn't wait to get rid of them when the season was over, I isolated myself because I couldn't take one more person asking what I needed when I had no idea what I needed. All I did was sleep, go to work, come home, try to keep my shell of a home life together, and search for answers where there were none. I guess you could say I found myself in a dark night of the soul, so to speak. I felt distant from deity, my covenmates, and worst of all I could not reconcile my feelings with my beliefs. The answers that I received from Wicca were not sufficient to quell my pain. It wasn't what I was looking for, and so I found myself sad and angry. I trudged through the past year, passing every first family event without this person present. I watched a family fall apart and continue to this day to struggle to find a new structure that can work.
So here we are one year later. There is still pain and sadness, but it has become less of an open wound than it once was. We have survived every terrible first and it seems as though the storm that raged in my home has finally broken. There is love and peace in the air again and the energy of my small apartment is no longer oppressive. While we will never make sense out of what happened, it seems as though we are no longer "stuck." I am grateful that this year is over. I know that it was love that got us through it. Love gave me the strength to persevere when I thought I had nothing left to give and that I would surely break. It was love that allowed me to see the best in everyone, and it is love that will help us to continue to move forward and heal.
So this is where I have been. I am looking forward to finding life's flavor again and maybe stronger than it was before.
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