A special welcome
to anyone new to The Grieving Room.
We meet every Monday evening.
Whether your loss is recent,
or many years ago;
whether you've lost a person,
or a pet;
or even if the person you're "mourning" is still alive,
("pre-grief" can be a very lonely and confusing time),
you can come to this diary
and say
whatever you need to say.

Unlike a private journal,
you know:
your words are read by people who share your values
and have been through their own hell.

There's no need to pretty it up
or tone it down.  
It just is.  

Here is the link to all the previous The Grieving Room diaries:  


I miss those years,
the years when the young couple,
Mark and Pam,
(my 'real' name is Mark)
were struggling financially,
but feeling no fear,
feeling at home,
feeling safe.

We felt a certain level of confidence,
partly from not thinking ahead,
not thinking about the Mark and Pam of future years,
the Mark and Pam of future decades.

It turned out,
we had about two and a half of those decades,
times of what we had established as normal,
normal living for Mark and Pam.

Then Pam got sick,
after a few years of pre-grief,
as mentioned in the welcome paragraph,
after a few of those years,
on the 11th of March, 2008,
Pam died.

Here's the link to the first diary I wrote about her death:


 Anyway, I may write about topics that come up related to my new situation.  And I will connect them all to politics.  Thank you, all of you, for your companionship in my time of need.  It really helps.  

That diary generated a lot of companionship:

889 tips

636 recs


That's the most reaction I've ever had, yet.

But that quote from that diary,
thanking folks for companionship,
indicates a desire for ongoing companionship,
ongoing emotional support.

I just now realized,
the big difference between the way I lived my life then,
before 2003,
and the way I live my life now,
is that
I was not actively looking for emotional support from anyone.

I was getting lots of emotional support,
but it was invisible to me,
like floating in a pool for half my life,
oblivious to the water all around me.

I was raised by a stay-at-home mother,
a reliable bread winner father,
three older sisters,
and a younger brother.

And, during the first twenty two of my married years,
I could visit my parents.

My mother, Eva, died in 1999;
my father, Don, died on the 27th of January, 2001.

Pam and I were in the hospital room when he died.

when Pam got very ill,
starting in June of 2003,
I found myself looking for emotional support,
looking in many places.

My parents were dead and gone,
my family is mostly far away,
and I'm not good at staying in touch.

I turned to Carrie,
Pam's cousin,
someone I could talk to,
on those many occasions when Pam went into the hospital,

I was losing my best friend;
I needed some kind of friend to talk with about gradually losing
my best friend, Pam.

After Pam died,
I took in various temporary roommates,
someone to talk to,
and my next door neighbor,
was my lover,
and I visited Carrie,
(Carrie lives far away)
and I stayed active here at Daily Kos,
especially here at The Grieving Room,
and I thought I had enough emotional support.

Then Tonia came along,
at first just another temporary roommate,
then another lover,
now my second wife.

I live blogged our wedding:


 We've said our vows, and I cried during my
repeating the vows,
as the pastor led me through them.

He let me read my (written by me) vows at the end.

I cried again.  

Tonia gives me truckloads of emotional support.

an old friend,
named John,
a man I had not seen in forty years,
from the summer of 1972
to the summer of 2012,
that man contacted me last summer,
and he is such a good friend,
someone I can talk to.

If Tonia hurts my feelings,
John always takes my side.

And just yesterday,
Carrie called me,
and wants me to visit her again,
if Tonia is willing to make the trip.

And Bev still calls,
and Tonia doesn't mind.

And we live in a big house,
with Tonia's uncle Randall,
and her brothers, Michael, Isaac, and Terrell.
(Terrell and Tonia are playing Call of Duty: Black Ops II together,
as I write this.)

I'm getting so much emotional support,

And we have two dogs and a cat,
to keep me busy,
and laundry,
to keep me busy.

My most recent diary before this one:


 My wife, Tonia, and I, have a new cat;
her brother named the cat
Fuzz Lightyear.

Fuzz is male,
a light shade of tabby,
with a white bib under his chin;
truly a fine home decoration,
not just an accessory,
but a centerpiece to build one's home decor around.

(I write this because I feel most cats are so damned good looking,
that folks who serve cats,
at least at first,
do so for that reason,
then learn to like their personality,

But the fact remains,
that even with all these humans,
and furry animals to pet,
and the honor here at Daily Kos of holding the position of
blog editor
at Indigo Kalliope,
and daily visits to IAN,
the Itzl Alert Network:


(Folks who are grieving often show up and comment
at the IAN diaries; somewhere to check in and feel connected.)

In spite of all that emotional support,
I keep looking for more.

for those of you a lot less than five years into your grieving,
the good news is,
you can find emotional support,
from many sources.

The bad news is,
if my example is any indication,
you may never feel quite as safe as before,
you may never stop actively looking
for more and more
emotional support.

I have plenty of times when I feel relaxed,
when I feel safe.

But why do I keep looking for more?

Thanks for reading.


I read this whole thing,
and it felt finished,
looked good,
great theme,
emotional support,
just had it, swimming in it,
now constantly looking for it,
covered all the vital personal info,
then I realized:

I forgot to mention,
my first wife, Pam, was born completely disabled,
never walked,
so I had thirty years of doing total care for Pam.

And my second wife, Tonia, is a black woman,
fifteen years younger than me.

Tonia was one of the workers paid by your tax dollars
to take care of Pam,
back in 2005.

She could see then,
that I was good husband material.

So, I'm an old white man,
living in a black neighborhood,
with my new black family.

They love me.

Thanks for reading.

P. P. S.

I forgot to mention Pam's charming smile,
as she looked up at me from her wheelchair.

And I forgot to mention Carrie is also completely disabled.

And I forgot to mention that when Tonia smiles at me,
she looks so young,
and so much in love with me...

Thanks for reading.

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