Sunday, January 13, 2013
We finally pushed ourselves out of bed to get ready to go to church. Being at Mass gave me moments of peace and reflection. I drifted off a few times, got thinking about friends and family when Father Joseph said one thing or another that resonated with me but I pulled back to sing and recite prayers. After Mass we went grocery shopping and upon our arrival home, remembering it was the 13th, I called my parents to wish them a happy anniversary. I made Mom laugh at one point. It’s always good to hear her laugh.
Hanging up the phone, I then went downstairs to make lunch. An afternoon of football for the family was in store as Emma’s boyfriend came over to hang out along with my brother-in-law too. I prepared snacks, watched a little television, and neglected school and house work I ought to have gotten done.
But despite it being a “good day”, as night fell I knew I’d spent yet another day dismissing my feelings. All week I have felt this heaviness on my heart, but I haven’t been able to shake it. I’ve cast aside moments of sadness by focusing upon others and by acknowledging the positives. I’ve adopted fresher perspectives when I begin to sink. I have worked out at the gym, turned the television on, set the volume higher on my ipod, laughed harder, talked faster... I’ve kept either my body or my mind or both constantly moving. But the heart has had enough. It’s demanding attention. And I’m still not able to give it the attention it needs.
I’ve let just a few tears fall tonight and I’ve turned here to write but I’m still holding back. I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow and the next day and the next. If I lose control now I fear it’ll take me some time to recover, and I don’t have that time right now. So, I’m just going to wipe these tears tonight, tell myself to take a deep breath, and make myself go to sleep so I can get up early and start my day tomorrow. It’s going to have to be this way for awhile. I’ll get up, dress prettily, head to work, keep myself smiling, focus on responsibilities there, and tend to my children at the end of the day. Rinse. Repeat.
But one of these days I’m pretty sure the wall is going to come down. The dam will break. This I know. Because letting go is hard, but sometimes holding on is harder.