I’ve tried a few times so far this week to write something. It’s just not there, you know, and I’m not inclined to fight it.
The rest of our KC road trip came and went and I began to write about that, but got distracted by life and stuff needing attention.
I’ve wanted to write about my former father-in-law and how I felt a dull ache in my heart for days and angst over whether or not I should go to the funeral. I gave blood last week and began crying on the “table” during the donation and had to wave off the concerned Red Cross staff, letting them know it was something else entirely and I was fine.
The funeral is today and I’m going. I asked a few people if I should or not and wasn’t satisfied with any of the answers I received. Not because they didn’t make logical sense or because they were contrary to what I actually wanted, but because I was looking for someone else to tell me what to do and I suppose in the end I didn’t really want advice. I wanted to want advice, if that makes sense, but in my heart I already knew what I wanted, which was to go and grieve for myself and support my children. Isn’t that what funerals are for?
Like much of life, it can be whatever you want, you just need to figure out what you want. The lucky among us figure that out with enough time left to actually act on our wants and desires.
My mom is going to the funeral with me. I asked her yesterday and at the risk of sounding shady and cold, she owes me. A person should not have to go to a funeral alone. In my life I’ve often felt that it was better to face grief in a solitary fashion—work out me feelings for myself, but I’ve learned over the years that this is backward thinking. I’m not too proud to admit I was wrong. People need people.
I won’t get to sit with my children, of course, as they will be with their dad up front. I just hope they don’t make my son cut his hair for this. I have a feeling his dad might.
Sometimes waiting for a funeral is like holding your breath and I’m really looking forward to it being over so I can exhale.
I’d like to write more about all of this, but the words are just not there. Such is life.
Peace and love,