The leader/coordinator of the grief support group that I've been going to for a couple of months sent me an email last week. She was just checking up on me to make sure that I've been taking care of myself in light of the first in a series of impending holidays. She's very kind (and I'm not just saying that because I sent her a link to my blog). I've actually asked her if she's always so nice. She calmly admitted that she's not. I love it when people allow themselves to be transparent enough to give me hope for myself.
Anyway, I said something in my email reply to her about a plan I have been brewing for myself. I've been thinking about going out to Michelle's grave. At her memorial, we received a beautiful marker with red and white fabric draping over a cross with a bird perched at the cross of the cross. Well, I haven't made it out to her spot for several reasons. Fear. Yeah, probably that more than anything. It's not that I'm afraid of the graveyard. My goodness, I used to live next door to one. Ah~the perks of being the pastor's kid.
Anyway, one of the things I said was that I want to make this trek alone. I'll admit, it's not really a trek, it's only a few blocks from my parents house which is only about 15 minutes from my house. But, there's definitely been a blockage for me to go there. My mom wanted to go out there for Michelle's birthday. I couldn't do it. Once, Softie drove me through there. There were kids in the car with us and I find it rather difficult to express what I really feel in front of them. Like on my wedding day, I felt the pressure of parent more than the pressure of bride. I felt like I had to be brave for them. Well, I feel that quite a bit about Michelle's death too. Like, if I let myself cry as hard as the ache in my heart wants me to around the kids, they might think I've lost my mind and it might really hurt them to see that.
So, this trek I'm thinking about, I want to do it alone. I want to face my fear. I want to admit to myself again that she's really gone. I want to be free to sob and cry as loud and as long as I feel like What I told my leader in the email is that I think I'm afraid to scare someone around me with my feelings. Then I said that maybe what I'm actually more afraid of is showing myself how deep my sadness is. It was something like that, and it's out now.
What if the latter part of that thought is more the truth? What if what I'm really afraid of is addressing the dark cavern in my heart for myself. What if I try to cover up my own fear of myself with this silly pride or protection of those weak people around me. You know, the ones who I'm responsible for keeping afloat? Um, what does that say about me? I'm pretty sure I couldn't keep anyone afloat even if I tried with all of my might.
I think I'll think about this a little more. I sure hope that there's not too much truth in a fear of myself.