Commenter Sage referred to my positive memories of living in Chicago post surrender as a “luxury“. I found this to be a strange word choice. Positive memories as luxury?
I think of luxury as sumptuous goods or surroundings – objects, a home, a car, jewelry, something rarely obtainable by the average person. I never thought of good memories as a luxury perhaps because I have an equal amount of negative ones. Years ago I was stuck in the negative, held back every day due to the power of them, afraid to move forward and afraid to stay still. Nightmares, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, constant crying. I remember them all.
These days I choose balance and to focus on the positive rather than the negative. Perhaps that is my true luxury. My outlook and choosing my thoughts. I have suffered the loss of my child, sexual assault, the challenges of growing up in an alcoholic family system. When given the choice to focus on my losses or my gains, I choose to remember my “luxurious” gains.
Perhaps Sage was correct.
Writing is the process one follows to learn what is already known within. It sharpens the spirit, disciplines the mind and leads to solutions. In the spaces between words & solitude, observe what happens when words and silence meet.
Write to learn what you know.
– Mary Ann Radmacher
I read C. S. Lewis book Grief Observed last night. Have you read it? I recommend to anyone struggling with grief over adoption and lack of adoption reunion. While Lewis writes it in relation to the death of his wife, I found I could relate to many of his sentiments. I shared a few of them in this previous post.
I will warn you that if you are bothered by Christian writings or more so, by challenging Christian beliefs, you may not like the book. C.S. Lewis is clearly having a crisis of faith in the book. I have no such Christian beliefs so I was able to look beyond the God references and focus on his emotions and related to why he might be angry at his God.
The book is relatively short (as noted I read it in one night) and can be purchased on Amazon in Kindle or print.
“Tonight all the hells of young grief have opened again; the mad words, the bitter resentment, the fluttering in the stomach, the nightmare unreality, the wallowed-in tears. For in grief nothing ‘stays put’. One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral?
But if a spiral, am I going up or down it? How often – will it be for always? – how often will the vast emptiness astonish me like a complete novelty and make me say ‘I never realized my loss till this moment?’ The same leg is cut off time after time. The first plunge of the knife into flesh is felt again and again.
They say ‘The cowards dies many times’; so does the beloved. Didn’t the eagle find a fresh liver to tear in Prometheus ever time it dined?” – C. S. Lewis