Lurking Grief

I thought I was doing great. It has been a week since the move back to my hometown and I have been a perfect symbol of moving on. I survived the stress of the move here. I only cried a little bit when I left Selma and a couple of times watching my boys trying to figure out how to put my lifetime of memories into the storage shed and I thought I would have to throw away some more things. I know I shouldn’t cling to them, but I feel lost without the comfort of having some things left as proof. I have my beautiful children, but it is weird the need to cling to what is past. I imagine sometime in the future I will cast them off too, but for now I need to know it is there.

This morning I had my first breakdown in a long time. As usual the shower caused my tears to just pour forth even harder than I expected. I guess it is like singing in the shower, some people only sing there, I cry there and this morning the dam burst. It was like I had been holding my breath and didn’t realize it. I write as this wave finally passes. I thought I had gotten one over on grief but here I am doing what I expected would have happened a week ago when I left Selma and landed in Slidell. I am having a delayed reaction and my brain is once again processing that this is real yet again. Most days I just engage my mind on things so I never dwell on my reality and then something small comes at me like while shopping I see something Steve would like. Grief tends to hit in the small stuff right now. Quiet moments when life is moving at its own pace then a thought flits through my head and I find  myself transported back to the front porch with those two sheriffs telling me Steve died at a gas station from a heart attack. It is a recurring ache like the ankle I broke many years ago. It reminds me from time to time it had been broken but thank God it is not as painful anymore and less frequently.

I look forward to, and may be dead, when the pain will not be as tender. I did have a dream about Steve last night, my second one since he has died. Is that bad? It seems I would dream of him every night. Once again it was a good visit this time not a comfortable visit, a rescue type dream with him and me talking on the phone as we did so often. We spoke our sweet lovers’ code as we said our goodbye’s as I was waking from my dream. Strange I don’t remember ever thinking about the sweet pet name I called to him as I was rousing. He was on a mission though, and I know he was taking care of us. Of course dream interpreting people will relate it all to God and I know this, but it was nice to see Steve’s face as the one doing the rescuing and relating to me through my dream.  I miss that face and as I go through pictures of Ireland for my mom this morning, I thank God for having those pictures, even though I cry, it is good.

So you can see, I am in my next stage of recovery. I will be settling in, busy about the process of car tags, licenses etc. then job hunting. I am so blessed to have a safe place and a roof over my head right now and am not so rushed. No one ever wants to move back with their parents, I never wanted to burden them, but I am so grateful for their open arms in my time of need. Family is so important I feel so for people who don’t have the family I have. Cultivate your family relationships people, they are a life saver in a storm and no one loves you like family.