The Carved-out Hollow Space Inside
I’ve just come back from my first visit to Austin, which I loved. I was there for work but found lots of time for taco-eating and wandering around. I like being in new places and exploring (and did I mention the tacos with enough emphasis to convey their fineness?).
I presented a paper, which I first had to construct (I’d done some ahead but not much with so much other work to do), so that kept me busy. I wrote about narratives of grief and loss, which was good for me to delve into. It cheered me, oddly enough, to dive into it, painful as the topic is. My own grief is strong because my father would have asked to read my work and would have wanted to hear about it and my marathon. The world doesn’t feel the same without having that–the person I want to tell when I’ve done something I’m proud of (which isn’t all that often or easy for me to feel, but it does happen on occasion). But this is how grief is. It’s not going to be “over” because the loss isn’t just a temporary hiatus from which all will ultimately return to normal (such as it was, and it was not all good, far from it, but it had some good and it’s what I knew). That “normal” is finished, so it’s not there to return to. This is just how it is, which is fine, or at least it will have to do. Such as it is.
Tags: cheer, Grief, loss, narrative, pain, self-esteem, travel, Work
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May 16, 2008 at 3:32 pm
When something good happens to me I want to call someone and tell them but really who would I call? I guess when I read your entries about your father I feel your sadness in a different way. I feel the emptiness and the longing for someone (anyone) that was never there. I feel the same longing, to call and celebrate with someone but grief sets in when there is no one to call. I know your loss is different. I guess I’m just saying in a tiny way I can understand what you’re saying about wanting to pick up the phone and share then realizing you can’t. I feel like I’m stumbling through this comment so I’m going to shut up now.
Austin
May 18, 2008 at 1:24 am
It’s true that this longing and empty feeling aren’t just about people we’ve lost–who have died–but also when people who ideally should be there for us aren’t or weren’t, for whatever reason. I feel this with some other relationships, and my father was complicated in other ways. And even though each kind of loss is different, it’s all that hollow achey feeling one way or another.
The thing I like about blogging is it can be a way to share our good news (or bad) with whoever wants to hear it.
Thanks for your comment–and all your comments–it’s great to feel heard, which is something I haven’t felt that much in life, until lately.