« Prayerful | Main | Hate 101 »



I'm so sorry, Blue Girl. This post made me cry, and it gave me the chills. You have to rehang that plaque front and center and remember that even if we think we're too this or that or not enough of that or the other, we're exactly who we're supposed to be, and we're loved for it.

Kathleen Maher

Blue Girl, At my angriest, I cry, making it difficult to win arguments.
Of course, I don't cry silently. I cry with fury, hurling what seem to me to be salient reasons as to why I'm right, tears or no.
When frightened, I laugh. (Hence, police run-ins.)
When facing a challenge? I dive into the thick of it, hoping to get it over with. (Physical injury, unintended social insults, or bad writing result.)
Your post made me cry. And laugh. Run into traffic and cry again.



zombie rotten mcdonald

Good thoughts, Beege.

But the car driving thing? That's me on GOOD days.

Dan Leo

Look, just stay away from busy traffic for a while, okay?

Here ya go, babe, a song about the crying game.


aww BG, sending a gentle hug .

When my dad died from cancer, it was quick. I wept on the plane flight home from law school and wept until he was buried, then did a mixture of anger/sadness. I was lucky I had friends who let me grieve the way I needed to. Am around if you need me.


Oh.... goosebumps... oh BG... I'm so sorry.

You loved him. He loved you.
You both knew it.

There's peace in that, somewhere...

John Freeland

January 20 - a big day for us, too. My daughter, wife, and me sitting in a hospital room with the TV on. While Yo Yo Ma and the rest of the group played, a PA came in to describe the surgery they had in mind for our daughter and get our signed authorization. We shut off the TV. Our girl lost an ovary that afternoon.

I've since had a chance to read the inaugural poem and Obama's inaugural address. They were both good.

Our girl is recovering nicely.


Just stumbled on this blog. Why are we supposed to care about this again? Seems very self important.

blue girl

Thanks, everyone for your nice words.

John, I'm glad your daughter's doing well.

Raven, didn't you get the memo? I'm the most self important person in the blogosphere! True story.


Anger is instinctive and appropriate in the face of helplessness. My heart breaks for you, but I'm smiling for the brief, lovely catharsis that came, finally, to confirm, accept and assauge your anger. My love to you and yours, BG.


BG, I have found that grief is one big freakin' onion. You get through one layer, and then you find tears and anger all over again beneath it. And there's just nothing you can do about it, except to keep life going and keep peeling away. And it's key that you don't have to do either alone.


BG, I have found that grief is one big freakin' onion. You get through one layer, and then find anger and tears all over again beneath it. All you can do is keep living and keep peeling away. Luckily you don't have to do either alone.


Sorry BG. I have nothing useful except for that.


Not to feed the troll, but there's just something about accusing a blogger of self-importance that cracks me up.

My condolences, BG.


So so sorry for you loss, BG. May angels lead him in.


So so sorry for your loss, BG - and beautiful post. May angels lead him in.


Isn't what ma peel said something - I keep peeling the onion and my eyes keep watering....T7....

Jonathan Waller

Thanks for sharing this lovely story - I'm sorry for your loss and hope you find lasting peace.


My condolences Blue Girl. May your memories keep you warm during these cold Midwestern nights.


On 1/20/2009 my father would've been 72 years old. Or perhaps he was. I don't think death should take away celebrating the day someone becomes a year older. At least that's my opinion.

I have to be bluntly honest with you, BG -- I've been avoiding your site for this reason. And in reading your post I was flooded with images of one of the worst things I've ever had to deal with. But I realized how much of a fool I was being -- or perhaps selfish is a better word -- and thought if I could just make a quick post to let you know that this too shall pass I could give you some ray of shimmering sunlight that you had somehow eluded until now.

Of course I know that's not true, but there are times I wholeheartedly wish I live within hopes and dreams I wish for others. This world is too cruel at times.

Just know that you are in my thoughts.


Thanks, everyone.

Nicho, I'm sorry you've been avoiding my blog and I'm sorry you were flooded with terrible images. But, thank you for leaving the note, I really appreciate it.

Hope you don't continue to stay away. I promise I'm gonna try to start keepin' the conversation lively.

Adorable Girlfriend

Blue Girl, I am so sorry for your loss. 20 January would have been my grandmother's birthday. She would have been 87 years old.

If there is anything I can say or do -- please call upon me.

May the angels in heaven be as thankful for him as you were and may his memories live on in the acts of kindness carried out around him.


Wendell Berry's take on the stupid death thing:

"What hard travail god does in death!
He strives in sleep, in our despair.
And all flesh shudders underneath
the nightmare of His sepulcher.

The earth shakes, grinding its deep stone:
All night the cold wind heaves and pries;
Creation strains sinew and bone
against the dark door where He lies.

The stem bent, pent in seed, grows straight
And stands. Pain breaks in song. Surprising
the merely dead, graves fill with light
Like opened eyes. He rests in rising."

Wendell is my favorite source for clear-eyed curmudgeonry. Now we'll see how poem meter translates into blog comment form!

The comments to this entry are closed.

My Photo