well, this is awkward

1) Start where you are. What's going on with you? What's on your heart/mind today, right now, at this moment. No back story necessary. No disclaimers. What's up, buttercup? Spill it.

" well, this is awkward"

That's how I begin most conversation with people right now. Whether old friends or new ones, I am having to acknowledge the strange space between us, to own that I don't know how to be and they don't know how to be. This beginning to blog again and to do so in community with others accepting the invitation to blog through September with Effy ... well, this is sort of an awkward thing to be doing right now. 

and I just need to begin with that so I can move forward. 

What is going on with me? 

My twenty year old son was killed in a car crash two weeks ago on August 17th. Every day since, I have taken to Facebook and written love notes to him, to myself, to my husband and my children, to his friends and community. I've written about what this is like and how to move through this, reminding all of us to be gentle with ourselves and to take care of ourselves through this healing process. I've written to acknowledge the discombobulated process of grief. 

Writing is how I keep this energy moving. Grief is energy and it needs to move. So I write. I do other things too ... I paint, I dance, I take care of the people. But mostly, for now, I write. Blogging again seemed like the next natural step. But it is awkward because it feels too normal and nothing is normal. 

And everything is awkward.