#day1 - In grief, holding on to the little things

Ok, so I haven't been blogging, but I've started about four different posts since the last time I wrote.  They were long and cumbersome and only halfway inspired.  But in the meantime, I've become slightly obsessed with Seth Godin, who is an creative guru, marketing/pr/tech guy who has some philosophical and spiritual ideas I like too.

Here's his friend and colleague:

http://yourturnchallenge.strikingly.com/

Here's him:
http://sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2015/01/getting-unstuck-a-one-week-challenge.html

His colleague, Winnie, is challenging bloggers to blog everyday for a week to get in the practice of 'shipping', which must be a business term that we poets/psychotherapists are unfamiliar with - kind of like putting something on 'the parking lot' or some other thing I learned from management seminars I've been to.  I've blocked it, But I do remember there was a funny send up of this type of thing in an early 30 Rock episode.

Anyway - I'm taking the challenge:  Here's what's on my mind today - no frills, no long stories, just getting it going.

My nine year old daughter and I just finished reading The Diary of Anne Frank.  We lingered over that book for months and I couldn't figure out why, until I realized it had to do with grief.  I felt like I knew Anne Frank - she came alive to me through her diary.   I also came to realize that when the diary ended, I would have to grieve her.  I would also have to think about what a tragic end to her life and especially so since it was so close to the end of WWII.

It made me connect to all the grieving people I've worked with over the years - the one who kept her husband's voice on the answering machine, the one who didn't clean out the laundry bag of a teenage son who died, the one who kept his wife's dish of loose change on the counter for years.  Now we even have text messages we can save or facebook pages.  We long to keep our loved ones alive in some little way.

As a grief therapist, I think this is all ok.  People ask me "am I normal?"  Yes, I think so.  This is a story we are all a part of  - loving deeply.   And losing.  We want something tangible to keep and something that is true.

I just wanted to say that.  Let the voice, or the email or the dish with the quarters remind you also that you are connected with all the other people in the world who have lost someone they deeply love.  It is one of life's comforts to know you are not alone.