How the grief accumulates.... 06/26/2009
Tonight i sat at a reading a close friend of mine was reading at. A big ole queer event with people sharing their guts and feelings and all that, it was beautiful, but the thing that has brought me to this website tonight is that a family;a mother and two sisters of a woman named jennifer who died in a car crash in december came to read her stuff to this crowd of queers, to honor her memory, to keep her alive. how brave this was, how beautiful that they knew who she was. that her queerness among other things was not hidden, not shamed into the sidelines of conversation.. i cried through the entire reading, so touched and so reminded of sali... our beautiful beautiful friend who's mom knew who she was, knew all the secrets (well probably not all). at sali's memorial in eugene i was blown away by how integrated her blood family, those she grew up with and the traveling crusty anarchists were the whole time. i had people walk up to me after i sang and read my piece say to me"you really brought her spirit here, thank you for keeping her alive in this space" how amazing to be speaking of this wild eyed crazy dumpster diving emotive diva and have those who didn't nesasarily view her in that way to appriciate and not deny. Sali was not denied who she really was, she wouldn't let herself be denied in life and she has not been denied in her death. there have been a lot of deaths around me lately, feels like the summer of death.was with a best friend while his dad died of cancer, some close friends very close friend drowned a couple weeks ago, someone from my community killed themselves. i am very sad for the loss of these people, for the people that i care for and their pain, their long process of grieving. also their deaths bring back my own grief for sali. someone said to me that the grief just accumulates till it is almost all the same grief, just one big pile of heartache and keeps coming back every time you lose someone, but also that it gets easier, not that people don't mean as much to you, not that you get desensitized, but that it is integrated into your body, that we remember that a part of the living is the dying. but it is still so hard for me that sali's death was murder, murder and rape and its still so hard for me to get over, i mean i will never get over it, i guess that's whats different about violent deaths, its harder to accept. through all these new deaths i have started up a ritual with burning candles and burning myrrh and white copal(something i learned from Lindsay. white copal is burnt as a offering to the dead, myrrh is burnt for the ones grieving death, to comfort) both of these are used in latin america for rituals and while they are not my cultural practices i have integrated them in my own way for my own spiritual practice. as i have been burning them i have felt sali's presence again, i know shes with me sometimes, laughing at my drama, at my insecurities, at the little things that get me down, i know she is what keeps me going sometimes, this drive and inspiration that still shines through even in her dead form, her spirit form, wherever and whatever she is now. most of the time i can accept that this is the way she is in my life, but sometimes i just want to hold her again, hear her laugh again, listen to her stories, and look into her eyes. our beautiful sali gone? those are the times i cry and wonder if my housemates can hear me, if they worry about me, if they even remember that i am still grieving, that this pain is still so deep, that this will be with me forever, a part of my bone matter, right up next to legacies of abuse and racism and homophobia, right up with all those lessons of self hatred, right up there with feeling so so alone and depressed and suicidal. that this pain settles and fuses doesn't make it any less, it makes it easier to go on, but it still fucking hurts, that sali is not in the world fucking hurts. i have learned a lot through this process of communal grieving, have learned that it is so much easier to do it together. it seems like we have all moved on with our lives a little more the past few months(i think the last posting was in march) but reading these postings here tonight and writing has been so important, to remember that this is not over. i know that so many of us still sob as we fall asleep, hold fear of violence, and can't get out of bed. i know that we are still grieving and won't stop, i know that some of us must be just getting out of the shock, or are heading into depression phase. please lets not forget each other, cause i know that we haven't forgotten sali and as someone posted before, this is how we are all connected, this is how we can hold each other, cause we all loved and held sali in all differnet ways, and we all feel that void no matter how small without her .i would love to hear how others are doing, how people are moving on, how they are not. this is how we can keep her alive , through all of us. so much love to you all Commentsangie Wed, 15 Jul 2009 22:22:41 Dendron, thank you so much for being brave and sharing your thoughts. I find myself overwhelmed with grief at the most awkward times. It’s like the thought of her creeps into my mind when I least expect it and just takes hold. I can’t think of anything else, nor can I see through my teary eyes. And I don’t even know why. I mean I knew Sali, but I didn’t KNOW her like most of you. But she was more than just my husband’s sister. Our interactions were limited, to my regret, but I felt like in the handful of times we did get to spend together she was always so present and honest and real that I got a really good picture of her spirit. Then after her death I was so fortunate to hear some really great stories from other friends and family and it became apparent how rare she really was. Sali touched so many of us in ways that I don’t know we were prepared for. She could bring out the best in you and make you feel at peace with your insecurities. I think the hardest part of her death, for me anyway, is that someone with so much life can be taken away so brutally. And once my brain is set on grief I can’t help but think of my dad who died when I was 15, 10 years ago. It just makes this hole in my heart rip at the seams and emotion pours out uncontrollably. It’s like you said about grief accumulating. Sometimes I think my body is too full of grief and I feel heavy. I haven’t found a way to deal with that heaviness. The heaviness that won’t allow you to get out of bed; that won’t even lighten up enough on your chest so you could vocalize your feelings. Maybe I will try the white copal and myrrh. I must say thank you to all the wonderful people who have shared their stories, thoughts and concerns. It is true that we are keeping Sali alive through our collective grief. I know it is hard to accept that it has already been close to a year since she was taken from us and returned to the dirt. We have made it through the hardest part…so they say… julia Wed, 02 Sep 2009 21:09:06 you are beautiful sweetie. Leave a Reply |
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