5 Alive

In part the definition being the house, apartment, etc. where you live, especially with your family.  I am a family of one body. My mother is in a Retirement Home across town. My aging siblings have families of their own. They are not close in proximity. And we are not in big contact with each other.  For me I had the home I grew up in. The one from 4 to 21. I was married and made a home. Close to my parents. I could make a safe place. I was there even after my marriage dissolved.  When my house was sold, I went back to my parents.  I had a boyfriend and spent usually a few days a week there. But that didn't last. I was safe at home. As my parents were aging and things were going to change I got an affordable apartment.  I've been here 3 years.  In that time I've lost my uncle, his safe cottage that I could go to, I lost my pops/dad, the family home was sold, and my mother's in a Home.  Too much. I really feel displaced.   I haven't been able to make this apartment

I'm missing him. I'm missing my pops. Don has been gone a year and a half and it really doesn't feel like it.  I'm having the cycling of grief.  It comes on hard. My heart is squeezed. I am dropped into the depths of sadness.  Memories flood my mind. Good and bad. All the things we shared. All of what he taught me. All of his support and love that I had. Oh, how I miss his comfort.  He wasn't a cape wearing hero. But he was mine. He truly saved me from a bitter life with my biological father. He helped me prevail through the time I did have to go to be with my father. He was the salve after the harshness and insanity. He didn't know it then. It would take many years for truths to surface but he knew my father was 'unstable'. I think he sensed the need for gentle love.  I'm sad. I have lost so much in my life but him gone stings the worst.  I'm moving on but my heart can still hurt. I live in a place where I see pops everywhere. My hometown. It wa

The harsh lessons of life often leave wounds. Not all leave marks. There are hurts no one can see. The mind is their keeper. There are no bandaids. Healing can be tedious, with need for constant conscious attention. Cautious perseverance required.  Bruises and outside wounds can be part of regular life learning. It's part of living human.  Experience can be inspiring, even if we have hurt ourselves in the process. Some visible wounds inflicted can be traumas. If at the hands of another it may be a long-term process for healing.  The stains of the past can be brutal at times. With no bandaids we must seek the ways through. This can be a difficult path to manuever. Finding the right help and doing the emotional work are a choice of mental bandaids of sorts.  This life is full of challenges.  Every person, every life unique. To mend and continue on our journey will require some bandaids for best results. The paths are bumpy for all of us. Be kind. Be someone's bandaid.