Day five: I’m writing myself an all-purpose permission slip today.
I’m giving myself permission to fulfill a civic duty by voting in the local city council election and, more importantly, for a bond issue that would result in the expansion of my public library. I’ve had a long love affair with my library and it needs my support today.
After that, I’m giving myself permission to goof off the rest of the day and to meet my friend Linda for a sit n’ knit, a lot of great conversation, a little snark, and more than a few laughs.
I’m allowing myself to spend a whole seven dollars on a digital issue of a craft magazine containing instructions for a project that made me say “Oh!” in delight. Money, as my mom would say, is tighter than the bark on a tree right now and I could use it in a more practical way, but I’m taking John Greenleaf Whittier’s advice instead:
If thou of fortune be bereft,
and in thy store there be but left
two loaves, sell one, and with the
dole, buy hyacinths to feed thy soul.
I’m permitting myself to gather the materials needed, and to build the skills necessary for this project. I’m NOT allowing myself to feel guilty for starting another project.
I’m giving myself permission to think compassionate thoughts toward Mr. F, who is in a very dark place right now and needs all the love and support, even from many miles away, that I can give him. I’m allowing myself to continue to tell those who would say unkind things about him that they are not allowed to do so. He’s not a bad man, he’s not an asshole, and he’s not a jerk. He’s a struggling human being who is carrying with him a load of pain and guilt and a lack of self-forgiveness that is almost unimaginable, and he is in need of compassion.
I’m allowing myself to embrace the earthy sentiment blogger Cauchy has been exploring lately (a warning here: if you are at work or offended by adult language, proceed with caution) and I’m looking myself in the mirror and telling myself this every day.
I’m burning candles and fondling yarn and celebrating my life today. I have permission to. Never mind that I wrote my own permission slip. That’s allowed, too.
I’m feeling kind of a fraud right now. There’s been no celebrating and very few laughs today. Certainly no sass. I’m missing Mr. F so very much and I’m grieving the loss of him, of that relationship, and all that we were together.
Sometimes it’s a long road to the other side of grief. It’s one that I have to go down largely alone. Others will tire, and probably have already, of my heartache and I can’t say that I blame them. But it’s a part of me as surely as Mr. F was, and is. Bear with me.