Traveling is its own triumph.

We had a somewhat tricky trip here, narrowly avoiding a couple potentially major accidents, but we made it safely nonetheless. We have enjoyed spending a lot of time with family and a few friends while we have been here, further relishing in the beautiful weather and incredibly scenic surroundings. The lack of responsibility has been a boon to my spirit and emotional balance. And even though it hasn't been all smiles,(as the occasional sting of recent events would incur) I would still call this vacation a successful escape, and necessary catharsis, from the weight I have long carried in tow. And there's still lots left to enjoy. It is a wonderful thing.

On the way out with a bang.

Today was a long day but it was shared with a great crew. The work was fun and challenging and I hope to do more of it.

Almost free.

I picked up a bunch of work over the last several days and after tomorrow's gig I'll be rearing to hit the road. It has been a good crop of work but I am really looking forward to the time away. My brain, my soul... my heart needs the break. I plan to shoot my own stuff as I go but it definitely won't be work. I plan for it to be art, instead.

Work is a valuable form of healing.

It is a distraction, yes, which has it's value for being that but there is more to work's value than just being a distraction. It is service. It is focus. It is collaboration. It is effort. It is usefulness. It is living in a valuable way. Too much of it can be unhealthy but lack of it is positively wretched. I am quite lucky to love my work.

Starting to get back in a groove.

I wouldn't exactly consider myself a fully functioning working man yet but I kind of feel like the work I'm doing is a decent dose that seems to be helping my emotional state. The distance of time(it has been 15 days since Mom's passing now) has started to have it's natural healing effects, I suppose, and I certainly can't complain about that. Time is an important ally in some of life's personal battles.

Reminiscing with old buddies.

Today was basically a day of hanging out with rad people, some of which I haven't seen much for maybe twenty years or more. And it was quite the experience, something like the high school reunion. The difference this time was our inclination to be more open about the challenges and trials we have been through over the years. These are true friends as opposed to the more casual(though still important) kind. I am grateful for their kindness and enduring friendship. I am a lucky man despite the unlucky challenges of late.

Taking a break from the pain.

Maybe it seems a little disingenuous but I think I kind of needed a "non-day" where I sort of avoided thinking about anything pain related. I just needed an emotional break, I suppose. Plus, I might be a little physically ill so going the "do nothing" route seemed well justified. I still have a bit of congestion which might take another day or two to work out but I don't think I have a fever or anything anymore(if I ever had one in the first place.) I just look forward to the week. Should be interesting.

The varied and lengthy healing process.

Too much emotion for one day. Too much emotion for one week. The memorial was a beautiful experience that heaped up the emotion like an avalanche of love and sorrow. And even though the process of healing began long ago, I feel like having gone through the technical process of memorialization and departure has opened a new door to the various ways one can say goodbye. I might be getting somewhat ill physically tonight(I am not sure if it's just the lasting effects of my emotional blitz) so that doesn't really help much at the moment. I want to say I feel clearer and more positive or optimistic but can't quite say anything like that yet... but perhaps I will be able to soon. Perhaps.

The pain of loss. Part 12 of ∞.

Spending so much time with the family is likely the best kind of therapy for this sort of loss. The feeling of connection and love is incredible and even though it can not replace the deficit of Mom's passing it does remind me of the better times in life in an undeniable way. A good friend said it better than I can - "Like I've said since I lost my dad, you might not get over this, but I promise that you'll eventually get used to it." I know the pain will linger indefinitely as it is a loss impossible to replace without Mom herself filling it... but... we all will gain the strength to continue on in life as we must. Life will always persist regardless of quality until that quality is literally too dangerous or the functional strength to live becomes too weak. That's a long way off for me, I expect. A long, lonely way.

The pain of loss. Part 11 of ∞.

The graveside funeral was basically as challenging an experience as one would expect. It was a good experience in the emotionally important sense. A bit of therapeutic expression as we shared our feelings and allowed them to run their course. I expect there is more yet to come when we have the public memorial on Saturday but it might not be as taxing then as it was today... or maybe it will be worse... I don't know. It will be another important step to healthily healing our emotional balances. Grief is an important part of life's experience. I can't imagine it is ever something one enjoys as it is happening but it's retrospective value always adds something positive to whatever is happening in the present even if it isn't necessarily acknowledged or even understood. The value of experience is easily overlooked but that doesn't make it any less valuable.

The pain of loss. Part 10 of ∞.

It seems that this experience is one that will continue for some time to come. As the people, events, moments, and other reminders of Mom resurface, unexpectedly in some cases, a freshened sting seems to poke at the heart. It also comes as others experience their own grief as I, in my empathetic nature, tend to share the pains they feel about it. Tomorrow will be incredibly challenging, I expect, as we participate in the graveside service. The family will be there together, experiencing her loss again, and I am not sure how I will handle the pain of it. I know it will come and go... and that, to some degree, the memories of the experience will have to fade in time... but that doesn't really make it any easier right now. It is just another step in the process of grieving.

The pain of loss. Part 9 of ∞.

I'm currently tired... but I am also tired of feeling pain. It seems to make my emotional core shut down and almost become amnesiac to what has happened. I just want to sleep and not remember the pain. I want to have nice dreams about the future.

The pain of loss. Part 8 of ∞.

It has now been a whole week since Mom passed away... and even writing that statement brings an emotional sting. People are kind and offer their condolences but it so often feels somewhat hollow to hear. This feels like a pain unknowable to all who have not experienced it... and those who have experienced it are part of a club nobody wants to join. Every well wish extended my/our direction is appreciated for its intent... but still feels hollow. Maybe it's just that I feel hollow to hear it. That I just don't have a way of relating it through their attempts to offer solace in any meaningful way. Maybe I am just apathetic to there unknowing situations otherwise.

The pain of loss. Part 7 of ∞.

In an odd coincidence of timing Jimmy Fallon also lost his mother recently. And a couple other friends of mine also had family members pass away somewhat recently(within a month or two.) It is probably not actually an odd coincidence since that is just how life goes... but sharing a similar period of time in which similar sorts of experiences occur with other people does seem to lessen the blow a little. I don't know if it's just being reminded that others experience trials similarly, in a communal form of commiserating, or something else. I do somehow feel somewhat more emotionally connected to those people, though. Maybe that simple feeling alleviates some of the pain in some strange way. Even if they don't say anything to me, or even know that I exist(Jimmy Fallon), the bond of a shared experience feels strangely empowering... even if only just a little bit. Every little bit is appreciated. The pain of a loss this deep can always stand to benefit from even a tiny breath of relief.

The pain of loss. Part 6 of ∞.

Another thing that seems a bit cliché, almost like something you expect to see from the movies, is when you happen upon your father who has been crying to himself in the kitchen. He had the most to lose when Mom passed away and it would be a totally natural thing for him to experience a level of grief I will never be able to understand... and I feel incapable of helping him through it all. It is a pain of my own loss mixed with a pain of helplessness. I don't know if it was too overwhelming to fully process for me but I think I was sadly buoyed up by a stoic dose of apathy in this case. My ineptitude tends to revert to self-defense in a way unbefitting a son of such loss. I am more annoyed by my reaction as I reflect on it now... I believe it is not a healthy was to process that sort of challenge. Maybe I'll do better next time, now being a little more aware of my character flaw.

The pain of loss. Part 5 of ∞.

Sometimes the sympathetic offer is enough to break the gate, still... which may last longer than I expect... which is fine. And so the emotional ride continues on, juxtaposed with the life experience as always. Each moment different than the last despite familiar feelings that linger and echo so indefinitely.

The pain of loss. Part 4 of ∞.

There are moments of vulnerability that still come in spurts... they are sometimes unexpected but there are definitely situations I can identify as areas of challenge. It might seem kind of cliché but when I am in the shower considering the situation I am vulnerable. When I read any sentimental comments from family or close friends regarding Mom I am vulnerable. When I pause for a moment to consider Mom's eternal absence I am vulnerable. I am sure some of this is obvious but it seems valuable to identify these sorts of things anyway. I am not too sure how often I will reflect on these entries but taking the time to write things down always improves one's memory of them anyway.

The pain of loss. Part 3 of ∞.

Time might seem like it heals all wounds but I tend to think that is an incorrect way of addressing what might actually be happening. Time increases experience, good, bad and otherwise. It fosters change. It separates us from each life event and leads us to each new one, aware of where we've been and blind to what is next. Perhaps some of the pain we experience in loss is the despair of uncertainty about the life we will lead in that person's absence. We have not yet built a positive notion of what life can be without them, having not yet experienced it, and we fail to see the new, unknowable potential with sufficient hope. My mother is now given to eternity, the story of her life closed to this finite journey's view. Her legacy will continue to evolve as it reaches throughout the lives of her children and friends but her changing influence is now gone. I recognize that she is gone and the pain of her absence is still very real and present. And even though time will change things eventually it has not quite enlightened my experience thus far. And that's okay.

The pain of loss. Part 2 of ∞.

I do not believe one can fully prepare for the intensity of this sort of emotional pain. We were quite blessed to have time to prepare for the certain end as it came... yet, the only certainty that really unfolded was the truth of the actual end. I have lost good friends in various ways, people I have felt a deep bond of love and connection to, and the pain of their loss is something I have worked through on a few occasions over the years. However, and not to compare those situations with any specificity as it would be unfair and unwarranted to do so, those experiences of loss simply can not compare due to the differences of the actual type of loss, something quite unexpected to me. I thought, quite naively, that because death was a common thread between them that they served in some sort of preparatory manner for each similar experience to come in life. Now I know how mistaken I was. This has been a new, more intense, more deep, sharper type of pain. Something to teach me something new. Something I hope to learn from. Something I do not want to last very long... but will endure as much as is necessary with as little complaint as I can muster.