The Lingering Effects of Good-Byes
I've been to four funerals in the last six months, and if that wasn't sad enough I could have gone to two more had I not already been tied up at other services that week; I missed a funeral a couple of months earlier when no one remembered to let me know what happened; and another funeral was designated "Family Only," as if the people she worked with for years didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.
I wrote and recited two obituaries and two eulogies in just under four months. I officiated two services and two graveside services in just under four months. Made two round trips to Nowhere, Oklahoma to bury a brother and then his sister, in just under four months.
I write well and I talk well. I write well because I spent my childhood reading books way above my school grade; I talk well because my oldest friend was a thespian, and I picked up a lot of his mannerisms over the years. I make it look easy... but it's not. Standing in front of a room full of people is nerve wracking at the best of times; baring your soul to send your friends and family off in the manner they deserve is agonizing.
I wish I could say I was up for the task... but I've finding out after the fact that I'm wasn't. I'm hurting: I'm snarky and snappish; I'm overreacting to little things that bother me and blowing up over little things that hurt me. My armor is cracked and chipped - if I don't do some serious mending, I'll shatter all together.
Don't stay in the darkness too long, even if it's unavoidable. Object lesson learned.
I wrote and recited two obituaries and two eulogies in just under four months. I officiated two services and two graveside services in just under four months. Made two round trips to Nowhere, Oklahoma to bury a brother and then his sister, in just under four months.
I write well and I talk well. I write well because I spent my childhood reading books way above my school grade; I talk well because my oldest friend was a thespian, and I picked up a lot of his mannerisms over the years. I make it look easy... but it's not. Standing in front of a room full of people is nerve wracking at the best of times; baring your soul to send your friends and family off in the manner they deserve is agonizing.
I wish I could say I was up for the task... but I've finding out after the fact that I'm wasn't. I'm hurting: I'm snarky and snappish; I'm overreacting to little things that bother me and blowing up over little things that hurt me. My armor is cracked and chipped - if I don't do some serious mending, I'll shatter all together.
Don't stay in the darkness too long, even if it's unavoidable. Object lesson learned.