If you read my blog regularly then you know I lost both my parents inside of 6 weeks. You may also know that after my breakdown (April 2012), I lost most of my friends (all but 2). I have been lucky enough to create new relationships. Wonderful women. Accepting of my idiosyncrasies. The Godiverse has been gracious to me in this area.
Last night I had my monthly dinner and gong bath with one of the new friends. She knew my parents had died. With tenderness, she reached across the table, took my hand and said, “I’m sorry about your Dad. Losing both parents has to be hard.”
That was brave and beautiful and it terrified me. My family was not touchy. My parents might have hugged or touched me once in the last ten years. Actually, I don’t think so. I did spend a lot of time in those last weeks stroking my parents’ arms but even that was uncomfortable. My husband and I hold hands but only when he initiates it. Rarely, I’ll snuggle into him. My kids and I hug but I stiffen each time.
I let her hand rest on mine for as long as I could stand it. And even as I write this, I’m getting clammy. I can’t figure out why that is? What is it about me that freaks out at a simple touch? Or is that I freak out at simple kindness? Is it a fear of acceptance? Is it a fear of being allowed to be vulnerable? Eventually I have to look at these questions more deeply.
Eventually is not today.
I wish I had held on. I wish I had used that opportunity to cry – her touch was the first time I actually wanted to cry for my parents. But I fought. I fought her. I fought the emotion. I did the EXACT thing I try so hard not to do. I ran from myself – and from this friend.
Today I cry because I’m sorry if I hurt her. Today I cry because it scares me and makes me feel like I’ve stepped backwards. Today I cry because I’m sad that my parents are gone and that I don’t feel what I ‘should’ feel.
I know I’ll never be fully ‘actualized’ – isn’t that an awful word? I know I’ll always “should” myself even though I know that’s counterproductive. But sometimes – just once – I’d like to not have something to kick myself about. Just one 24-hour period where I can say – “Well done.”
Every day I tell myself “I Am Enough Just As I Am Right Now In This Moment.” I’d like just one day where I claim – and live – that truth.
Oh well, if wishes were raindrops, I’d drown.
I know this friend reads my blogs. To her I say “thank you”. To her I say I wish I had the courage to hold on and I wish I had the courage to say thanks some other way than hiding behind the safety of this blog.
Dear friend, if you remember, on my drive home from this time together, I was followed by a rainbow. The rainbow is a symbol of hope and mercy and love. You gave me that rainbow over a pizza.
If wishes were rainbows, I’d hold you tight and cry on your shoulder.
In April 2012 I had a mental breakdown. The real thing. I have about 36 hours that I don’t remember....