I think I’m getting kicked out of my bereavement group. I know it’s coming. Some of the ground rules I’ve already broken.

Rule #1- Try not to course. Our facilitator told us people have different feelings about language so try and avoid it. When I said “fucking” I used in a sentence that made sense.

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense.” This even related to the group discussion of why some family members can’t be there during your grieving. I continued to elaborate.

“My mother raised my aunt. She was 13 years older. My aunt did fucking nothing when my mom got sick. I thought it would be fucking common sense to invite me and my dad over for a holiday. Or something.”

The facilitator laughed. I don’t think she meant to. I’m not sure my insurance company knew what they were getting themselves into when they recommended the weekly bereavement group to me.

“I mean am I crazy?”

The group was silent.

Nicole came to my rescue. “You aren’t crazy my dear. She should at least invite you over for coffee.”

At the end of the group you raise your hand if you want to come back the next week. Apparently there is a long waiting list for this particular group.

I raised my hand hoping to get the invite emailed to me. I haven’t checked yet. I’m worried that breaking the first rule is an automatic not-invited-back-ever in my file.

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i am a first generation italian-american who grew up in southern new jersey. Life is amazingly beautiful and devastating. Sometimes in the same day.

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adriana suriano

adriana suriano

i am a first generation italian-american who grew up in southern new jersey. Life is amazingly beautiful and devastating. Sometimes in the same day.

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