A thosand barbs

I've been really blessed in the friends department right now. Bug, the Doctor, Willis, S. and a host of other people continue to be great support systems. They are thoughtful and encourage me in healthier directions than I would go on my own.

During GriefShare five we learned about how friendships will change. It's true. 

Some notes I jotted down are: Let friends know what you need and talk about boundaries.
"I will never be the same" and "I will become a new person."

I am a new person. One with 10 times the anxiety, who is not functioning at a 100 percent. One that is really cultivating a complex about drinking and suicide.

By suicide I mean, I fear who might be next. (They have not ruled on my mom's death.) I look for signs in other people I know to be struggling and than sometimes I run in the other direction. Other times I say something like, "I know what it is like to get that news. You hear your loved one is dead and you're all 'Oh no, my _ is dead.' When the words they 'killed themselves' is added to the mix you go on a different grief journey." I may also share my own struggles and what I am doing to combat it. (Mainly therapy.)

Some of my friendships have changed because of this journey. I have learned who my truest friends are. I don't want to say "real friends" because some people are not good with death. But I now know which friends will remain so caught up in their own drama/lives that they could not even fathom reaching out to someone who is hurting. Even if it is someone who has seen them through hard times. That's OK. Truth is we all knew those friends were like that from the beginning and our surprise is probably not so much surprise but confirmation.

Last night Pastor R. said that sometimes it is best to say "I'm sorry for your loss" rather than try and connect with the person by sharing something that might upset them.

"Don't open your mouth and let your brains fallout," he said.

I'm going to add, good friend or not do not offer help if you will not follow through. Seriously.

Anyhow, I leave you with this week's GriefShare card or tailman as Pastor R. called it: I would rather walk through life with friends and suffer their occasional unhelpful attempt (to comfort me) than walk through this without them. -Carla

I, personally, would take a thousand barbs just to know someone is willing to hear me talk and talk to me about my loss.

Umbrella

Today is my dear friend Bug's birthday. Bug and I lost our moms days apart.

The "umbrella" phenomena  started after I sent a text out Dec. 2 that read, "If it keeps pouring like this I am going to need an umbrella." To which Bug replied, "I'll get you one."

Umbrella became the code word for needing or giving comfort.

Last night I painted this yellow umbrella for her. Part of the reason it is yellow is because her mom liked sunflowers. The other reason is I really think all umbrellas should be yellow.

The original painting was done with watercolor but the color was too light on the 5x6 inch stretch canvas. I went over the original painting with acrylics. The only colors used were yellow and black.

I almost exclusively paint on smaller canvases. I really don't have the patience to fill a large amount space. I am also a fan of single color backgrounds.