…… that I am at a loss.
I’m at a loss for words.
I’m at a loss for feelings.
I’m at a loss for some kind of permanence in my life.
Something to anchor myself to.
Other than God.
Yes, God is my anchor …… most of the time.
See? I’m going to open myself up here.
Hopefully you won’t take advantage of the openness and preach at me.
Because I’m being honest.
And maybe this is just me.
In fact, it’s probably just me.
But as I told one of my daughters last week, after learning that my father had died …… and that it will cost over $150,000 to put my house back
together …… sometimes I just can’t pray anymore.
It doesn’t help that I’m watching a telethon right now to help the victims of Harvey and Irma.
I’m ugly crying as a result.
A result of the telethon and of my feelings, which I guess I’m finally feeling.
I know without a doubt that I am beyond blessed.
I didn’t lose everything.
I lost the house that I had.
But I didn’t lose anything in it.
It can be fixed.
For a price.
No one I love died.
My family is safe and well.
I didn’t lose much, really.
But many of my friends are now homeless.
And my heart hurts for them.
It also hurts for all of those who lost so much in the past few days.
It feels like our world is spiraling out of control.
That many of us are losing our sense of permanence.
My heart hurts for the relationship I never really had.
My heart hurts for my sister, who has spent her life seeking love and support from a man who couldn’t give it.
My heart hurts for that man …… who spent his life missing so very much.
My heart hurts because sometimes …… life just sucks.
Not always, thankfully.
And sometimes …… so often and so long that it’s difficult to see a way out.
Or a way through.
I am so thankful for all of you who comment and who tell me that you feel (or have felt) the same way.
You help me feel so less alone in the suckyness (yes, I know that’s not a word).
I appreciate all of you and thank you for your words.
I want you to know that I don’t feel this type of loss all of the time.
Or even most of the time.
And sometimes is sometimes too much.
I miss him.