Wednesday, December 16, 2009

How Many More Days?

For no apparent reason, I had the Ugly Cry on the way to school today. About half way there, I began reminding myself of joyful things like the Class Holiday Party this afternoon. Thinking happy thoughts so the puffiness would go down before the six year olds entered the building. (My back up plan was a story about my allergies making my eyes red.)

I honestly don't think it is the holidays that are making me sad. I have so disengaged from the December calendar, I was shocked to hear a man in Macy's yesterday declaring, "Only 10 more days until Christmas!" There is certainly nothing assembled, hung or wrapped in my house that would remind me of the impending holiday deadline.

I think it is just finally hitting me that D is really gone, will remain gone, and life as I knew it will not return. Why it takes five months to get to this destination known as Reality, I do not know. I think that shock must wear off, and processing the situation must begin. The December calendar page facing me is only an ironic coincidence.

One of the main things I am coming to terms with is if I want to do something with someone, I must seek a person out. D is no longer nearby in his lift chair as a continual partner for my outings. My problem is I really don't want to do anything with anyone at this point. I think I am still recovering from seven years of D's cancer, and the emotional roller coaster ride that accompanied it. Being alone and quiet is a good thing for me right now. I think I was like that famed rat in the hot water pot on the stove: he kept swimming around as the water got hotter and hotter. He got used to it until he eventually met his untimely end at the water's boiling point. I think I have probably been at "boiling point" for a long time without realizing it. And the letting go and letting down is difficult, but necessary for healing.

In the meantime? Let the celebration begin with the class party. Sugar cookies are pouring in by the dozen, boxed drinks are chilling on the portable's porch, and there is a bag of popcorn that may have my name on it.

2010 will surely be better.


Lynn said...

Oh, I so understand that ugly cry at unexpected times! J died so close to Christmas that I don't think any of us had come close to processing it that first year. I tell those who are wanting to be there for someone who is grieving that they need to contact them again later on when the reality is starting to sink in. Grief is so much a journey, a process that works out differently for each of us. Being alone is not a bad thing, we need to be alone with God in order to heal. I think that only you can feel the pain you feel and only God can heal that pain, no matter how many loving friends and family we have around us each of us has to ultimately go through it with God alone. The support is important and needed but so is time alone with the Lord. Enjoy what you can enjoy and if you need to cry, just cry, it's healing.
Enjoy those starry eyed, excited little ones full of sugar cookies!!

melanieb said...

Let it begin in 2010!
Blessings and love to you today.

Anonymous said...

I'm praying that the joy of the Lord will be your strength this day and the many more to come as you "naturally" grieve.
We live in a society that is always so quick to sweep "stuff" under the carpet. It's better that you talk/pray through your struggles rather than suppress them. God's peace will come and His love will surround you as you call out/cry out to Him. God is the husband to the husbandless.

A few years back, I went through a season where my grandmother and spiritual mom died within 3 months of each other. I would have been more of a royal mess than I was had I not had the Word of God as my comfort as well as a few praise and worship songs that I played over and over and over to make the grief more bearable.

Know you are in my thoughts and prayers especially during this blessed Christmas season!