My word for this week is very apt…
Line breaks: ac¦cept|ance
The action of consenting to receive or undertake something offered: charges involving the acceptance of bribes[count noun] A draft or bill of exchange that is accepted by being signed: a banker’s acceptance
The process or fact of being received as adequate, valid, or suitable: you must wait for acceptance into the village
Agreement with or belief in an idea or explanation: acceptance of the teaching of the Church
Willingness to tolerate a difficult situation: a mood of resigned acceptance
I have been living with some difficult circumstances. One of my Brother’s killed himself. My Mother fell and broke her shoulder and I should be there with her, and my best friend, a GSD named Max, died suddenly wile I was away.
Learning to accept these things as final and happened is pretty much unbearable. I have been writing poetry and talking to people about my feelings each day in an effort to get it all out. Keeping things bottled up is just mind blowing, and not in a crazy druggie way that can be fun, but in a horrible, insular and dangerously self destructive way.
I tried talking about things when I was attacked and left for dead many years ago and was treated with disdain and even hatred by some. But, I talked about it again a couple of years ago and it helped to get some of it out. I wrote a poem about it and even put it in a book of poetry which was sold. I accepted it had happened and moved on.
I am now trying to do the same with the past few events in my life. Acceptance that Jules was unhappy and decided he’d had enough. Acceptance that I cannot be there to take care of my Mother at the moment as I need time to heal myself (I am poorly in bed at present) and acceptance that the best dog and friend I have ever had died while I was away. That I never got a chance to say goodbye to Jules or Max. That I will never see Jules share more art with the world. That I will never see that grin of his.
When Jules died I hugged poor Max a lot and spilled out everything. I talked to him, cried on him and double loved him. Then I had to leave him for a few days. Was it my fault he died? Or did he have a congenital defect? Was he ill and just not showing it at all?
With Jules it is somehow easier. He decided and made a choice to leave us.
With Max he just went. My poor partner, Robin, had to face this alone.
Perhaps writing things down is not a good thing to do as I have been told by someone. Opening your soul for all to read can be dangerous but hey. Accept it. That is what I do and how I come to accept events. To purge guilt, forgive myself and others…..
Acceptance, Willingness to tolerate a difficult situation: a mood of resigned acceptance
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