Why, Who and What

3-29-06, 3:35 AM

I created this blog as a means to publish a number of essays I've written over the past six months. Originally, they were just part of my personal journal. Then I decided to share them with my friends and family. Then I decided I didn't really care who read them, and that it might even be good if other people could read them. I don't really care what you think about them or whether they're any good. I wrote them because it made me feel better. I share them because I hope they might make someone else feel better (misery loves company). They (they of course being the "experts" who advise us on such matters as grief) say that knowing you're not alone, knowing that other people have similar experiences and feelings as you can help people suffering from loss and grief. I know that in my own circle, very little of our emotions and experiences are being shared or discussed. We don't want to burden each other, so we focus on keeping everything to ourselves. We may "talk" to one another, but we never really let out everything we're going through. I'm posting these essays as a way of sharing my feelings and experiences with others without "burdening" them. You want to know how I'm doing? It's all here. Now you don't have to ask, I don't have to tell, and no one has to fail miserably at making anything better. We can all just share it here, like a virtual tissue box. I hope that these discussions may in some way help others who are also suffering in silence and isolation. Find hope all ye who enter here, for you are not alone.
For those who stumble accross this set of inane ramblings that don't know who I am, my name is Tamsen. I am twenty-five years old. Last June I lost my mother unexpectedly to brain cancer. We knew she was ill, but the tumors weren't identified as the cause of illness until three weeks before her death. She had two tumors, the one the doctor tried to operate on was bigger than a chicken egg attatched to the base of her brain. She went into a coma after surgery and never regained consciousness. She died three minutes after we took her off the ventilator. About six months later, just this past New Years day, my husband died in a motorcycle accident. We'd been best friends and lovers since high school. He was the most important person that ever existed in my little universe. He was only twenty-four years old.
These things are most likely uncomfortable for people to read about, think about, talk about. But in order to really appreciate life, one must really appreciate the nature of death. I know that if any of those who know me have gotten this far, they probably won't want to read the rest of these essays. It makes us uncomfortable to have to face other people's pain, especially when there is nothing we can do about it. That's ok; I have no hopes or expectations about anyones reactions to what I write here. I just wanted to share it, and in the sharing hopefully help others who need to know that they're not alone. Well anyway... thanks for listening.