#grief — Public Fediverse posts

New post: The Loss Hits Differently Around The Holidays https://petgriefpathfinder.com/the-loss-hits-differently-around-the-holidays/ #Christmas #grief #PetLoss #Thanksgiving

Mount Lebanon mourns victims in murder-suicide

A father and his two children were killed in a murder-suicide in Mount Lebanon, leaving the community grieving…
#EuropeSays #Headlines #News #Europe #Europa #EU #Lebanon #catricemoffett #child #Children #community #dad #death #died #firstresponder #firstresponders #Grief #highmarkcaringplace #Lot #mentalhealth #mountlebanon #mtlebanon #murder-suicide #parent #st.michael #time #victim #wtae
https://www.europesays.com/iran/354308/

https://www.europesays.com/iran/354308/ Mount Lebanon mourns victims in murder-suicide #CatriceMoffett #child #Children #community #dad #death #died #FirstResponder #FirstResponders #Grief #HighmarkCaringPlace #Lebanon #Lot #MentalHealth #MountLebanon #MtLebanon #MurderSuicide #parent #StMichael #time #victim #wtae

Thirty Days

Lo and behold, my physical therapist is woo woo. It’s one of my favorite things about her.

A few sessions in, she timidly asked permission to talk to me about meditation. I told her I already practice. Have done so for years. She smiled. I felt like a star pupil.

A few sessions later, she suggested I start taking walks, specifically in the morning to set the tone of the day. Start the day with sunshine and a positive mindset. Star pupil accepted the assignment.

Except the stubbornness in me turned it into a challenge. Walk for 30 consecutive days. No excuses, no skips. Tired, in pain, rain or shine.

PTSD from getting hit in the crosswalk still had (has) me in its clutches, so I decided to take walks in the nearby cemetery. One block, two crosswalks away. Once there, o crosswalks, few cars. No dogs or dog poop.

The walks are not creepy to me. If anything, they’re quite peaceful. For some stretches, the blue sky is gorgeous. Other stretches, I look up into the changing leaves. The grounds are kept in immaculate condition. Manicured lawns, no litter or trash, fresh flowers. Every day, I hear the motors of lawnmowers and leaf blowers close by or in the distance. There are more maintenance vehicles than those of people visiting gone loved ones.

I usually walk in the middle of the road, but when I hear cars approaching, I give them a wide berth. Not only stepping onto the sidewalk, but a few extra feet onto the grass. It’s the only time I step on the greenery. The groundsmen and I greet each other now. I could have so many more variations of walks if I walked on the grass, explore more headstones, check dates, but I feel it would be disrespectful.

I already have reservations about walking there in the first place. It’s not a park. But I can’t handle a park right now. Prospect Park allows cars. And there are crosswalks. Also, it’s a mile away.

So {redacted} Cemetery it is. Walking amongst folks who have been dead since the 1800s. My friend doesn’t like when I call the walks “chilling with the homies.” I mean…I could be talking about the squirrels. I love watching them living their best lives. They’re in the middle of the street just like I am. I see them running and climbing trees. I even witnessed a fight on a tree trunk, before one fled higher into the branches. The only time I’m startled is when I hear them rustling in the fallen leaves.

When Jasmine told me to walk, she told me to listen to my body. Don’t push myself too much or overdo it. I did and didn’t follow her instructions. I go on daily walks. Sometimes early mornings, sometimes late mornings. One time, I technically left home in the morning, but reached the cemetery mere minutes after noon.

I set a personal goal to walk 30 consecutive days. No matter what. She never said I had to walk every day. There are days I have to give myself a pep talk to get out of bed. I’m physically tired from sleepless nights. There are days I rush through my home physical therapy workouts to leave, knowing full well if the exercises and walks aren’t done in the morning, they likely won’t be done.

There were a few rainy days, so I grabbed an umbrella and slipped into rain boots. Halloween was an interesting day. I heard Michael Jackson’s Thriller in my head louder than the affirmations playing in my earbuds.

My motivation: I want my body back. I want my life back. I want to get better.

Rain or shine.

Chill or warm.

Pain or pain.

The paths I walk and sweatshirts and hoodies I wear vary, but I always have a cup of green tea with a splash of lemon, sea moss and collagen in hand. I listen to affirmations and meditations while walking. It feels wrong to listen to ratchet podcasts or music. I feel like that time is sacred.

I’ve learned my way around. Twice, I’ve been asked for directions and was able to give them. Me, the person who has no sense of direction and gets lost finding the exit at the dentist office.

One time I witnessed a procession of just two or three cars and the hearse. My heart ached for them and my vision got blurry. Grief before and after burial are two different griefs. This morning (November 4th), a lone hearse pulled up, as one of the groundsmen and I were engaged in conversation.

Antonio with gray eyes from Peru put one son through college and is currently paying tuition for a second son. Hofstra and NYU, respectively. He’s a proud dad, claiming their studies are harder than his physical labor at the cemetery. He lives on Long Island, but no longer needs his expensive two-bedroom apartment for just him and his wife. The younger son lives in an apartment in the city. $4000 for a two-bedroom. Antonio pays half.

Antonio was happy to learn that I, too, am a college graduate. He politely wondered why I wasn’t at work. I told him. He encouraged me to get a lawyer, and sue, sue, sue so I can buy a house and stop paying high New York City rent.

I told him my priority is healing and getting better. These 30 days of walks and thirty plus more, are doing just that.