Sunday, Sept. 05, 2004 | 1:11 a.m.



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Still More Coolness

A Whisper

Sometimes grief is like a murderous lover, sneaking up behind and squeezing and squeezing until all the breath leaves my body and all I can think is "ow, ow, ow." And the feeling is familiar and somehow comforting because at least I am not forgetting, at least I remember and her face has not faded, her voice has not disappeared.

Tonight I came home from a child's birthday party and I cried for an hour. L turned 10 and it occurred to me at some point in the evening that Jasmine's last birthday was her tenth. It didn't impact me at the party so much, but I came home alone and put Nina to bed while Jeff stayed awhile longer. A Coldplay concert was on and I sadistically sat down to watch it. I love Coldplay, but I was late tuning in and only really started listening to them in late 2003. About the time Jasmine got sick, I picked up "A Rush..." and I listened to it a lot while she was in the hospital dying.

What possessed me to turn to that lover tonight? I don't know. I should have just gone to bed after putting Nina down, but I didn't. I sat on the couch, listened to the songs and cried. When the concert was over, I went upstairs, lit all the candles in my room and laid on my bed with Jasmine's box for about another hour and cried some more, until finally I fell asleep.

Then Jeff came home and woke Nina, which woke me, and now I can't get back to sleep. My eyes are scratchy, my sinuses stuffy and uncomfortable and sleep is elusive.

I didn't call Jeff when all this started. The problem is, I find I really don't want to be with anyone else when I get these fits. I'm not embarrassed, I just feel like I have to be alone with it, to truly be able to feel it, I have to be alone. Because if someone else is there, I worry about how I am affecting them, and it gets in the way of my own grieving. It is a cruel twist that my lover is jealous and what cold comfort is offered cannot be shared. Maybe that will change some day, but not this day.

I hear the sound of the ticking of clocks
Who remembers your face
Who remembers you when you are gone

I hear the sound of the ticking of clocks
Come back and look for me
Look for me when I am lost
And just a whisper, a whisper, a whisper, a whisper

A Whisper, Coldplay

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Recent Entries ...
Go Here - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2006
Short, But Sad Good-bye - Sunday, Oct. 16, 2005
Jasmine's Story ... Our Story - Friday, Sept. 30, 2005
Ache - Thursday, Sept. 29, 2005
Twists & Turns - Tuesday, Sept. 27, 2005

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