This is exactly what I've experienced this past year. Last year, Sept 21st, I lost my beloved cat, Buda. It was a horrible, painful event, especially for poor Buda who was in terrible pain with a heart attack. To see my "familiar" writhe as he did sent me into shock. Writing poems about it for the next week or so really helped unravel that "mess" of emotions you speak of. Next week on the 21st, I plan to post an essay and a poem or two in Buda's memory. I even collected photos of him for a video I might post too. In putting all this together after a year, I find it's true what you said. The pain has diminished some. Not all, but I have perspective. And I have his ashes and favorite photo on a shelf so I can say hello Buda to him whenever I pass. He's still with me in a way. And the writing helped me get through the tough part of it all.
It is a very hard process, but thanks to writing down everything I feel I was able to make it more bearable. The best thing about it is the memory that will be left for the future, when the wound doesn't hurt. At that point I would have a text of a transcendental moment in my life and not a fuzzy memory that time ends up erasing.
I wanted to be faithful to what I lived. I also have my dog's ashes. 🙏
I love this—it’s a great reminder to write for healing. I’m working on staying consistent while also giving myself grace when things don’t go according to plan.
Hi Frances, things rarely go as planned, there are always unforeseen events. The most important thing is that the diary accompanies you as a friend to tell things to and a support for your ideas and plans. It's very nice when you reread your pages, it's like a trip to the past.
This is exactly what I've experienced this past year. Last year, Sept 21st, I lost my beloved cat, Buda. It was a horrible, painful event, especially for poor Buda who was in terrible pain with a heart attack. To see my "familiar" writhe as he did sent me into shock. Writing poems about it for the next week or so really helped unravel that "mess" of emotions you speak of. Next week on the 21st, I plan to post an essay and a poem or two in Buda's memory. I even collected photos of him for a video I might post too. In putting all this together after a year, I find it's true what you said. The pain has diminished some. Not all, but I have perspective. And I have his ashes and favorite photo on a shelf so I can say hello Buda to him whenever I pass. He's still with me in a way. And the writing helped me get through the tough part of it all.
Hi Sue, what a touching story.
It is a very hard process, but thanks to writing down everything I feel I was able to make it more bearable. The best thing about it is the memory that will be left for the future, when the wound doesn't hurt. At that point I would have a text of a transcendental moment in my life and not a fuzzy memory that time ends up erasing.
I wanted to be faithful to what I lived. I also have my dog's ashes. 🙏
thank you, alvaro.
I love this—it’s a great reminder to write for healing. I’m working on staying consistent while also giving myself grace when things don’t go according to plan.
Hi Frances, things rarely go as planned, there are always unforeseen events. The most important thing is that the diary accompanies you as a friend to tell things to and a support for your ideas and plans. It's very nice when you reread your pages, it's like a trip to the past.