Grief

So my parents have just come back from visiting old family friends... (not surprisingly in mullumbimby...ah I love my hippy parents...) people whose children were babies when I was a baby... full of stories of their lives and their children's lives... and once again the reality is brought home to me. Pretty much all of my parents friends are grandparents. They tell me stories of the children I grew up with, and their delightful children. Usually I feign interest..."how lovely!". Tonight I lapsed into uncharacteristic sarcasm. Yes, they all have children, grandchildren... lucky them... "Oh" says my dear Dad...attempting to comfort me... "we don't think about that, we don't know what it feels like..." Somehow this was not comforting.
Tonight I read my dear friend's new blog. She writes very movingly about grief - the situational grief we all experience at different times, but also the more pervasive grief attached to being gay. Its a grief that settles over the skin like a well-worn thermal. Its the subtle sense of loss that is triggered by a thousand daily almost unnoticeable losses. Its the loss of your parents dreams for you. Its the loss of childhood princess dreams. Its the loss of social rituals - a white wedding, an engagement party, answering the "what does your husband do?" questions at your child's school P&C and a thousand others. Its the loss of having to always anticipate who will not accept you. Its the loss of friends who opt for others they have more in common with. Its the loss of being able to stroll hand-in-hand in the park. Its the loss of knowing that you too can have a "family" in the socially acceptable sense of the word.
Sure we make do. Sure we are often happy. Sure we make our lives the best they can be. Sure things are changing and improving with every passing year.
Sure we still grieve daily...


Not that I am sad.... life is pretty good really.... just one of those moments.