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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.

.....and then eat pie.

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

I went and did it,
I volunteered
to write a diary
for my old grief support group,
The Grieving Room.

I often think I'm not qualified
to write for this group,
but I still stop by,
and I know I always
have a lot to say,
on most any topic.

I can write poetry about mud.


(It's the source of all our food.)

(I can go on and on about it.)

I can certainly write about my widower's grief,
even if I'm not feeling much of it lately.

The real point I need to make
is that when my first wife, Pam
started getting very ill,
I discovered that I'm a fragile man.

I have a mood disorder
that has me on a natural high,
most of the time.

And I was raised by a stay-at-home mother,
and a father who was very diligent
about bringing home the bacon,
always making sure us five kids
were well fed,
and living in a comfortable home.


Easy living in my childhood,
and a natural high,
most of the time,
had me spoiled.

Spoiled rotten,
as they say.


When my first wife, Pam,
started getting very ill,
the extreme stress
got me down,
and I felt terrible.

After she died,
I adjusted as well as I could.

But I sometimes got depressed,
since I no longer had anyone
who was totally on my side.

I had a few temporary roommates,
folks who needed a place to stay,
just for a while.

Some of them
hurt me deeply,
and I kicked them out.

One of them,
became my second wife.

Now I feel safe again.

But my weak point
is simply that I'm fragile;
the feeling fine feeling
is maintained by Tonia.

And there is a song,
that reveals that truth,
and makes me cry.

This song:

When I See You Smile

Sometimes I wanna give up, I wanna give in
I wanna quit the fight
Then one look at you baby
And everything's alright
Hey, everything's alright
It's alright.....
I was in my Walmart workplace,
helping to unload a truck,
as I often do,
helping the regular unloaders,
since they were behind a little.

And that song came on the radio.

I knew it would make me cry;
there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I dragged a pallet
around a corner,
so I could at least be out of sight,
not right in front of the other guys,
when the worst tears hit.

I pulled my glasses
up on top of my head,
and pulled out my royal blue bandana,
to wipe and dab and rub my eyes.

I stood there.

As I went back around the corner,
back to the other guys,
and the truck,
I thought to myself,
at least I know
what I'm going to write about
for The Grieving Room diary.

My life seems totally pointless,
unless someone tells me
it's important to them.

unless that someone
is my true ally,
totally on my side,
it barely gets me by.

When a loyal, loving wife
gives me total devotion,
and smiles at me,
I can face the world,
since I feel,
right then,
that I have a reason to push on,
and do what I can.

For further musing
on how to live life
with more passion
and less aimless fear,
here's a quote
from Satchel Paige.

Satchel Paige quotes

Work like you don't need the money.

Love like you've never been hurt.

Dance like nobody's watching.

Satchel Paige

Read more at  

This quote claims to be
about how to work, love, and dance,
but it gives me more of a point of view,
an angle of attack,
for living life,
rather than any precise technique.

here's my latest great poem,
the only one I've put in a quote box lately,
and formally called a poem:


Life Poem

We do what we can
with what we've got.

Our life is only that.

We stand,
at the end of the day.

We see some respect from a few,
our friends.

We smile for a moment.

And then we're gone.

Thanks for reading.

The comment thread
is an open thread,
for you to use,
to pour out your heart,
reveal your pain.

It usually helps
to write it out,
and crying is healthy,
so my RN PhD nurse wife Tonia says.

don't hold back.

.......and then eat pie.

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