It's difficult to articulate the complexities of death in slow motion.
It's harder to watch it happen.
There are these jagged days, the kind that leave me emotionally gutted, when any semblance of a composed exterior cracks open to reveal the entire bewildering ordeal.
I know I am entitled to anger, but I feel like it's a disgrace to grasp at it.
I know one of the greatest gifts I can give myself through grief is permission to be where I am, to feel what I feel, to live without frustration or judgment.
I want my shoulders to relax 'cause they’re riding really high. I want to have these feelings, but I don’t want to let them have me.
JEB
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
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