I was going to update you all on the rosacea and potatoes experiment (1, 2) but I feel like today’s results are skewed by the fact that I just cried in my car after leaving a baked ham with my aunt who lost her mother yesterday. Crying, like, oh, everything else about living an actual life outside of a moist damp stress-free room, is one of those things you shouldn’t do if you have rosacea because it causes it to flare. Which, given the state of my face, was obviously exactly what I needed. And it’s only going to be worse because I also have a funeral to go to tonight which means a) more crying, and b) make-up. Wearing make-up of any kind is against the rules of my face and thus it will flip out even more.
But my face is not what I wanted to post about. I think this is classic avoidance. Probably because I don’t want to cry again.
My aunt cried and hugged me today. I’ve never seen my aunt cry. She told me this was the hardest thing she’s ever been through and asked me how I made it through my grandmother’s death. We talked and when I left, my own tears started. It hurts a lot to see someone you care about grieving. I wished so hard that there was something I could do that would help my aunt. But then I remembered this song, and I realized that this is part of love. Love is hard because it can tear us apart and if it was easy, then it wouldn’t have meant anything at all.
It kicks so hard it breaks your bones
cuts so deep it hits your soul
tears your skin and makes your blood flow
it’s better that we know
that love is hard