I was invited to a gathering of a friend from our grief group to recognize the twenty years that have passed since her teenage son died (very quickly of leukemia).
After saying the place, her house, and time, 5-7pm, she added: please eat before -- I have no attention for serving food --- I have tried it before and generally melted down.
I was impressed and filled with respect for her decision to do what feels right for her, not worrying about the minor comforts of others.
I find myself usually more concerned about others, about keeping up appearances and making sure everyone else is okay than actually doing what I feel like doing.
I get tense, stressed, but I keep going. I remember reading about the woman who baked and baked. She would bake a cake a day for years and just throw them away, but the baking brought a bit of peace and reminded her of her child. Her story impressed me, and I respected her for it, although the practical side of me thought she could have found somewhere to donate the cakes.
Or, the mom who would hardly get out of bed for a year, letting others take care of her other children. Or the father who couldn't go to work for a year, just walked around the neighborhood where his son was shot.
These stories impress me, yet they are of people who became somewhat dysfunctional (or just self-aware in the case of my friend not providing food). I am impressed that they didn't feel (or ignored) the tug from society to pull it together; to get on with it; to pretend you are okay. I respect their path, their choice, yet it is not my choice. I choose to hold it together. Every day, for most of the day. I choose to try to enjoy a sunny day.
Yet, I'm not proud of my choice. Maybe some day I will allow myself to feel okay about not going crazy. Yes, I am resilient, I am strong, I want to make life as okay and enjoyable as it can be. But I still feel guilty about it.
I miss Lev and I live in denial that he won't come back. Eventually I'll probably just convince myself that in the afterlife we will be united -that one day Lev will meet Liana and we will all be together, three siblings, mother, father, after living a full life... like one happy family. But that's not today.
Today I choose to watch some stupid show on Netflix instead of doing something meaningful. Today I choose to enjoy the sunshine and throw rocks in the lake with Liana.
Maybe in seventeen years I will know how to best acknowledge Lev's life. Maybe I will know what my needs are and be able to express them. For now, I don't know myself, so I certainly can't tell others.
All I know is that I do hold it together, and other people think it's a great thing to do. I certainly agree it's good for Jaal and Liana, and probably good for myself and Tony, too. When we have a gathering I make sure we have enough food for everyone and that they have drinks and seats, and that they are all taken care of and have a gathering that is meaningful for them... for them, because I don't know what I need. Or rather, what I need isn't possible, so then what?
As for the twenty year memorial on Sunday, I'll bring cheese and crackers and make some cookies.
