(Image Source) Last month, my mom was admitted to the hospital for a list of reasons: kidney stones, a urinary tract infection, dehydration, anemia, and the flu. When my brother Joe called to tell...
Fear will blind you from the light. Faith will reveal it.
"When the Lord knows that good health is necessary for our soul's welfare, He sends it to us; and when we need sickness, He sends that too. Sickness makes us discover who we are." St. Teresa of Avila
I was on the phone with my old friend Kandi yesterday, discussing the latest turn in my health problems. I had yet another MRI scheduled for the evening, pre-Admission testing for tomorrow, leading up to a nerve biopsy that will take place on Monday the 5th. She admitted while she had never experienced anything like what's going on with me health wise, she had gone through much emotional and personal pain over the past year. I said, "You know it seems every 5 years or so, something...
"She was a drug abuser, a talent wasted... took her own life, pissed on her fortune and pissed away her beauty.
I know. God, Whitney knew. She said it 10 years ago to Diane Sawyer: "I am my own worst enemy.... pray for my soul... pray for strength."
BUT... I mourn anyway. Not in spite of the countless other "quiet" deaths that have occurred lately. No, in ADDITION to them. I lost a godsister a few days ago myself. But my heart still mourns. If you don't care, God bless. That still won't change the sadness.
So like countless others I admire, but were gone abruptly- Billie Holiday, Marvin Gaye, Biggie, Sam Cooke, Tammi Terrell, Aaliyah, John Lennon, Left Eye, Amy Winehouse, Selena, Tupac, Michael Jackson- I'll add Whitney. I hope...
I read through this article at The Daily Mail by Claudia Connell, and I sighed. Very hard.
There is much, much sadness, and too much regret. I admire her honesty, but seriously question why she'd serve up herself as a cautionary tale to partying, sex-sans-strings singletons in the way she does.
She repeatedly references "Sex & The City", and as a big fan, I immediately thought of Carrie's questioning exclamation, "Am I a masochist or something?"
Connell is in her forties, never married and childless. She writes of being:
I've received so many great messages of support, I will forever be grateful. Even the simple "I'm here for you" texts have buoyed my spirit.
It's a struggle. My mood shifts not just day to day, but moment to moment. My mood is schizophrenic.
Tears and laughs and blank stares.
I was reading a post at Bad Catholic and a paragraph stood out:
This may be why the sudden death of a loved one is so unbelievable, so vomit-inducing, so utterly rejected by the human mind. The one we have loved, the one we have treated as a self, has died. It follows that we, a known self, in a very real way, experience a death within that death. (When Michael Jackson died it felt far different. He was an other to me.)
Ever meet someone once and immediately clicked with them? At Jos' Memorial Service, a sweet young lady named Meaghan came up to me and said she had met Jos by chance in a supermarket. They instantly connected. They wound up having a few more run-ins, and decided they should actually meet up. Then Hurricane Sandy happened, and their date never happened. But on the strength of those handful of brief meetings, Meaghan felt she had made a good friend (incidentally, so did Jos; she mentioned her the last two times we hung out).
In the last six weeks, I made a similar connection with a bright girl named Brittany Jeffers. We never actually met.