tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8280627664599611047.post2527810683695898935..comments2023-04-18T02:43:28.430-07:00Comments on An empty chair at our table: Manic AmsterdamAlicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02472729169216109749noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8280627664599611047.post-75344576962136158162008-05-31T12:25:00.000-07:002008-05-31T12:25:00.000-07:00i appreciate your honesty and liked the comparison...i appreciate your honesty and liked the comparison of grief "elegantly crying in a chair" to the reality of the ugliness of it's depth...i can relate. sending you warm thoughts and prayers even though you don't know me, your heart and it's words echo so closely to mine.redbyrdhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09372332601191829421noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8280627664599611047.post-13226467046238236382008-05-26T07:28:00.000-07:002008-05-26T07:28:00.000-07:00sadly, grief needs to be lived in conjunction with...sadly, grief needs to be lived in conjunction with everything else we're doing, and feeling, and experiencing. And I think it's this odd juxtaposition, or juggling act, that makes it so hard. And gives us guilt ("how can I possibly be buying a skirt right now?"). <BR/><BR/>However I'm all for self-defense, and if skirt buying and bike riding get you through the days ahead, than that sounds beautiful to me.<BR/><BR/>As an aside, I only just now realized that you got a horrible comment a few posts ago, and I'm so sorry for that. There will always be people telling us to hurry the hell up, and that we're being destructive to ourselves and our families. And frankly I don't know which is worse: getting this shit from an anonymous source, or getting it directly, to your face, from a family member.<BR/><BR/>Thinking of you.Tashhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07376651134993450207noreply@blogger.com