The Doldrums

I suppose I have been in the doldrums for a while.

Like Milo in The Phantom Tollbooth (a book I love), I’m trying to think (think really hard) my way out of it. Fingers crossed.

That said, any thoughts will not do. I’ve been thinking about how I don’t have anything new to say, other people have said everything better, or no one is going to care. None of this will get the car moving again. Maybe it’s not exactly about thinking, it’s about doing. Just do a thing.

So, here’s what I’m doing since I’ve been thinking a great deal about death, loss, and grief. I’m rereading Memento Mori: The Art of Contemplating Death to Live a Better Life. I’ve mentioned it before, but now I’m going to do some of the writing prompts, and some of those, I’ll post here.

Today’s prompt:

First, I realize that writing about death may not seem the best way to drive out of the Doldrums! (Hahahaha!) Well, this is how I roll. So…

I want to write about my first experience with death even though I have no clear memory of it. And it is a death that many can relate to–a family pet. A man on a motorcycle shot our dog. I write about it because of the impact it had on our family. My mother already suffered from what was probably post-partum depression, and she loved that dog. I’d even say she loved that dog more than us, and she was still struggling with the death of her brother a few years before.

My parents’ marriage was doomed from the start, but this death pushed it over the edge, and we didn’t talk about it. I was only three. So I’m not sure what they would’ve said to me. But even when I was older, I knew not to ask. At least, not to ask Dad. When did Dad and I ever talk about anything difficult? Almost never.

Do you want to answer Joanna’s question? Feel free to share it in the comments or in your journal. It’s a conversation I’m always willing to have.