A Conversation with Elizabeth
1998
Work

From:          Elizabeth
To:            larry.m.mixson@bvs.com
Date:          3/6/98 1:45pm
Subject:       work
 
Are you still at work. Have a good weekend. I'm going to send part of what I'm writing, so you may possibly hear from me before you leave. I'll continue writing more possibly, but you may not get it until Monday. Monday I may be in a different office because of construction, although I can probably check my HM, I may not be able to write. I wanted to let you know.
 
I have done so much work this morning until now (1:30) that is unbelievable. I had nothing to do when I started writing you about Snow Crash and then I got snowed. Loss--but doesn't that properly entail grief at some point, or grieving. Having just heard about my mother and then hearing those old songs--one more cup of coffee was one of my favorites--but is that from that album or another one--I only played one side of B on the T last night as it had gotten late--I found myself crying, not painfully, but with deep feelings.[1]
 
What a story you have about those years as well? In some ways, I don't know if I've full integrated all those experiences, and I didn't even have to go to Viet Nam. My freshman roommate was studying nursing and actually got into that Army program as an undergraduate to have her schooling paid. I have tried to find out if she went to Viet Nam as a nurse, but have never been able to find any information readily.
 
I went to a moving presentation a while back a very well known grief counselor. It is his specialty and it was a rarity to have someone of his reputation come here. My attitude towards grieving and loss has
become more open and permissive after hearing him. He talked of the evocativeness of music, and even deliberately using music to facilitate grieving. He spoke of how the actual losses were so often caught up in "fantasies" or other pictures, even sometimes unidentified, about how persons expected their lives to turn out. For example, a 50 year old might face come leg operation, and be really and truly upset in an overboard fashion, and she might finally identify that once she dreamed of being a ballerina and had never grieved that loss in her life, or never fulfilling that dream. Then in the 50's it was brought to the surface. He put together a list of music to listen to facilitate grieving over losses. I wrote him later and got a copy. I want to send him some suggestions of my own. He spoke of pulling over sometimes when driving and crying when hearing a particular piece of music himself. Now, when that happens to me, I just allow it. I don't try to choke it back.

[1] Reading this makes me want to smoke a joint, put on Blood on the Tracks and flash back to that time which I too would cry from long ago Deeply Rooted feelings.

It seems strange to me when I read this as I always remember Elizabeth and being, logical, rational, never showing emotion but I see now it was always there inside her, she just didn’t show it to me at the time.

Question?