This is a difficult post for me to write. But maybe it will help me to deal with the feelings I have and will continue to have for probably quite some time. I can’t help but cry as I type because today, Zoe and Steve packed up the car and set off on their trip to California. Zoe came back from San Francisco to go through her belongings and Steve has been busy selling equipment and also packing. He will be spending part of his time at the property in Laytonville and also part of his time in Spain.

And I will remain in NYC, my home. And my dogs are here with me. So the family that we worked so hard to create and to nurture has not survived and as with many families we are all moving on to our own lives. I have no idea how all of this is going to eventually turn out. I know that tonight, I feel very sad and alone. And I also miss my mother. She was there for me all my life and now suddenly, in just the past eight weeks, she is gone. It’s almost too much in some ways and it’s also probably exactly the way it was meant to be. A clean slate, a new beginning, a letting go of the past and an acceptance that there will be a completely new life coming up in the future.

Living in the present sometimes doesn’t feel so good though. I wish I could skip this part. Over the years I have watched so many friends go through divorces and seen their pain and tried to empathize, but I think it’s just something you can’t understand until you are actually going through it. The loss of a parent, no matter how old that parent, no matter how prepared you thought you were, still hurts.

I do know that I am not alone with these feelings. There are so many people who have more stress than they’ve ever had. People losing jobs, homes, marriages, friends, fighting for their lives, trying to keep their health insurance. I guess the gift in all of this is knowing that we are simply part of humanity and life can be challenging and also beautiful.

Today is a good day for the two journalists who left North Korea with Bill Clinton. I am happy for them and so relieved for their families.

And I will make myself something to eat and watch a movie and sit with Lucy and Lola, my somewhat smaller, but still beloved family.

3 Thoughts on “Goodbye to my family

  1. Robin, I’m crying right along with you. I feel for your loss, and also for Steve and Zoe. I will miss you three as a unit, but am so glad for the friendship I have with each of you. You have untold strength, my friend, and you are being so courageous to stay open to the changes that have come and are still coming.

    I love you dearly. Hang in there. Have you ever seen The Tall Guy with Jeff Goldblum & Emma Thompson? It’s an old movie, but hysterically funny. SHould you need a good laugh.

  2. There is nothing like an animal when you’re down. I’ll never forget how my cats kept me company through the cancer year. In gratitude, I will gladly pick up their shit and barf until they die …

  3. So here you are, experiencing the present moment that you’ve been dreading for the past couple of weeks. It’s hard, it’s unbearably painful in moments and still you go on because you do and you must. As Nietsche said, “That which doesn’t kill me, makes me strong.” You already are a survivor and a very strong one at that.

    Hang in there my friend, some day soon you’ll look back on this time and be so proud of yourself for getting through it, learning so much about yourself and others and mostly for having the courage to face all that you are experiencing right now.

    Lean into the pain, as Pema says. And lean into all your loving friends and animals. We’re here to remind you of who you really are and how much you deserve the wonderful life that’s sure to come as a result of all of this powerful inner work you’re doing right now.

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