Balancing act
My mom had a great big wing chair. It's upholstered in an attractive floral tapestry pattern; mostly dark green with some mauve, burgundy, and cream. That chair and I are both now sitting in my brother's living room. I'm sitting on the corner of the couch nearest the chair; it, unsurprisingly, sits on the floor. I was reading, and got distracted by the chair when I finished my chapter. I started looking at it, and missing her again.
I'm not sure what the best thing for me to do is. The sadness and sense of loss keeps hitting me at odd times. Sometimes I think I should just relax into it and let go, rather than trying to distract myself and avoid feeling the pain. At other times, it feels like sitting with those emotions is bad for me; that doing so is just easing into depression rather than dealing appropriately with grief.
There's also the difficulty that letting go means opening myself up to a pain that's never going to go away. I'm going to be sad about losing my mother for the rest of my life. Naturally enough, I'm not exactly eager to embrace those feelings. That makes it harder for me to trust my judgment about whether any particular instance is natural, healthy grief I should explore, or a chain around my heart.
Feeling that the sadness was depressing me just now was what prompted this entry. I opted for doing something in between distraction from pain and opening myself up to it. Bleah. I've articulated the problem, and am not feeling quite so sad, but I don't feel any closer to an elegant solution. Probably because there isn't one. Oh, well.