Day Thirty-Eight: An Explanation


Explanation:

I know that the majority of this blog’s followers found me through my humor. I know reading something witty I wrote for Huffington Post or Hahas for Hoohas or Funny Times, etc. prompted you to give my page a second gander. I know my PSA’s about redneckery in the Wal-MartS or stifling the urge to ram into the back of a rude woman’s Town and Country in the school pickup line led you here.

I know you didn’t sign up for melancholy posts about loss when you clicked that “like” or “subscribe” button. I am all too aware that I’ve found success in the blogging and freelance writing world solely because I have the “gift” of making people dribble themselves from laughter ( a “gift” inherited by both of my hilarious parents, by the way).

And I have to admit that every time I sit down to write another one of these melancholy posts, I feel somewhat guilty. I feel like I’m doing something wrong and letting down my followers. I feel like there’s some woman with snazzy ombre hair scrolling through her phone in her OBGYN’s waiting room and she rolls her eyes at my latest installment and thinks, “Oh, geez. Another post about her dead mother.”

I do understand that. I do understand that a fan base likes consistency. I understand that Garth Brooks disappointed fans when he became that absurd Chris Gaines character with the patch of pubes on his chin. I understand when a person signs up for a humor page in his/her newsfeed, well by God, he/she expects to see some humor.

But, in all honesty, I cannot be funny until I’ve processed this loss. Writing has always been my saving grace- it’s always been cathartic- and writing about the death of my mother helps me to properly grieve and find closure. It helps me to remember her fondly and achieve unexplainable peace that she’s face to face with the Holiest of Holies. Writing about her death will somehow help me rediscover my funny–I just know it.  Writing about my life now, without her in it, is just something that I must do during this season of my life.

As I continue to write my way through this journey, though my posts aren’t light-hearted or poking fun at grown folks with less teeth than a newborn, the plethora (I said plethora…ha) of private messages and comments that I’ve received in the five weeks that my mother has been absent from this earth have blown me away. So many people have thanked me for voicing what I’m going through. I’ve been told that I’ve helped people through their own grieving.  I’ve been thanked for publicly posting my emotions. Strangers have given me golden advice on healing that will resonate with me for a lifetime. I’ve read PMs and comments that would cause my mother to nod in agreement. I’ve cried at typed words from people whom I will  never meet this side of Heaven. And when I read this plethora (I said plethora again…ha) of positive feedback,  I have to think that what I’m writing now, though it’s so foreign from what I usually write, is making a small difference in the lives of others who are hurting.

So, ombre girl,  I’m going to have to work through all of these frilly dilly emotions before I can write a satirical article about those who dare wear Juicy sweatpants to morning services down at the First Episcopal. I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing- writing what I’m writing-  because it’s not only helping me, I think it’s helping others.  I don’t know how long I’ll produce this kind of writing because I know grief is a place to visit instead of a place to stay, but I hope you’ll bear with me as I trudge through this storm- as I trudge toward the light.

I do know that I’ll reach that place of lighthearted humor again. I reached it after my daddy died. I reached after the losses of others that I held dear. It took some time, but I found my happy, humorous place. It just may take longer this time since I don’t have my mama here to nudge me along with her contagious joy and jokes.

So, my point is that I just ask that everyone please continue to be patient with me. The loving comments, prayers and encouragement that have come to me from one ocean to the other has been such a beautiful blessing. Although I will never get to meet all 9,000 of you face to face, I do believe the good Lord allowed each of you into my life and my inbox for a reason.

Thanks for sticking around.

And thanks to Al Gore for inventing the internet, otherwise I may never have been blessed by you.

 

 

 

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About Susannah

I'm a freelance writer, blogger, aspiring best-selling author, wife of one and stay-at-home mother of two. I was chosen for the Top 13 in Blogger Idol and contribute pieces to The Huffington Post and Hahas for Hoohas. My work has also been featured in several humorous e-books, "Southern Writers’ Magazine", "The Humor Daily", "The Funny Times" and on the Erma Bombeck website. When I'm not putting pen to paper, bandaging boo-boos or spraying Shout on unidentifiable stains, I enjoy reading, playing the piano and teaching my children all about Southern charm. God has blessed me beyond measure and to Him be the glory forever.


25 thoughts on “Day Thirty-Eight: An Explanation

  • ladycarmienator

    You keep doing what you need to and take your time doing it… those of us who appreciate you for you will wait as long as we need to. I appreciate you and what you are saying. now as much as the humor and satire that drew me to your blogs in the first place.

  • Fanny

    Keep on writing. Whatever helps you heal. It’s a long journey and you know there’s a light at the end. I’ll keep you in my prayers.

  • Dona

    Just keep on doing what you are. Lost my dad 5 years ago, and mom last june. I want to call them everyday. The pain does go away, and then there are tons of memories!

  • April

    You are honest, real and healing. Keep on doing what you need to do. No need to feel you have let anyone down. I truly think you are helping many of your readers ( me included) work through our own losses & grief. I thank you for that.

  • Chris Carter (@themomcafe)

    You and your words are a gift. Whether they make us laugh so hard our stomachs actually get a work out, or when they make us cry so hard we can’t catch a breath.

    God is using you to both lift and nourish those aching souls out there who are in need of a voice to reflect their pain in their own tragic experience with loss. Keep walking through this agonizing journey, one step at a time. And know I am praying for you constantly, loving you from *here* and always always so proud of you.

    You got my number, girl. I have stopped myself MANY times from calling or texting- because I’m just unsure you need another person reaching out to you. Just know that I’m here. With my phone in hand at the ready…

  • Megan

    A few days ago a girl from the cable company called you to let you know that you could pay online Maybe she did that for two reasons.1. She is a seriously awesome customer service rep. And 2. She truly,honestly, wanted to help you in someway… Hang in there Susannah.

  • gmchatfield

    Keep sharing! I can see little bits of humor trying to break free. Keep writing! I loved your comment, “I know grief is a place to visit instead of a place to stay.” Keep trudging! The light is closer than you realize.

  • Sandy Akridge

    I like you have had to grieve the loss of my parents. But when I slip back to the black hole of it, I hear my momma say ” sandy you got to let it go thru a flour sieve. Just shake it a little til you find those little round bits that are left . Those are the good times the memories, that don’t leave when the rest of that flour has gone thru. I loved that lady and miss her every day. It gets easier. God Bless.

  • lynnelynnesgiftsfromtheheart

    Grieving is a slow and tumultuous process, I lost my husband a little over a year and half; about the time I think I’m doing ok i discover I’m not. The roller coaster ride continues with no music, I’m finding it hard to find my happy place. I feel guilty if I even think about having a good time. Your best friend is no longer there for you along with many others. I’m glad you have a support system around you. Thinking of you during this time. fondly ~lynne~

  • Beth McClure

    Who’s complaining? Give me their names and I will go beat them up for you. I’m serious – give me their names! 😜 God bless Al Gore! And may God continue to bless you, sweet one.

  • Gloria

    We are still here with you and love you; take all the time you need. Your words are touching lives of others grieving too. You are Blessed..

  • Leonora

    Writing is an art and art reflects the artist’s life. Many visual artists personal lives were reflected through their art and we know those phases as “periods”. Picasso had many: his sad blue period, his romantic rose period, with his last being strong expressionism which revealed himself during a period of conflict and war. Music is another art form where the composer and musician’s life is reflected through their music. We need joyful music just as much as melancholy; it’s all beautiful. Why should writing be any different? Finally, I am very sorry for your loss. Your mom sounded like an extraordinary woman and your readers should be honored that you have chosen to share this painful time in your life with them (us).

  • Ty

    Your human too….. I think many can resonate with your sorrow…. We all deal with loss in our lives. I’m so sorry you lost your mama, and your daddy so young. We have a saying ‘it’s better out than in’, it’s healthier that you write about it, than bottle it up, it’s a process, and many, many understand. Thinking of you xox

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