“I get to be there.”
I ran across this phrase in an email from a friend, it stuck in me. She was alluding to a time of grieving, healing on the horizon for me.
I can’t hear myself saying those words to anybody. That doesn’t make me proud.
I’m not good at being there. I am elsewhere, always. Behind, before, circling about. And when needed fully there, even in crisis, I struggle to stay near in my person, if not my body.
But there are people who I want “there.” I can think of some. Maybe I am especially morose, but I do occasionally make a list of people ( and write it somewhere to be found) that I would really want there, say if my parent died or child was grievously injured. The older I get, the more I think about such things.
In times of great grief, I, the loner, really do not want to be alone.
I’ve been thinking about this. It’s been coming up in me. So, it’s my strong suspicion that I have some grieving to do.
I’m one to put that stuff off. My mantra has always been, “I have to…”
I counted once during my most survivalist mode – I said it like 100 times a day.
My Dada died when I was 11. I grieved that when I was 19. Because, I think, people came into my life who made it possible. They were safe – in a way for which I have no words…I never felt that there was anything that I had to do when I was near them, except be me. I had responsibility for holding – nothing. My job in our society of friends was, if I liked, to be clever and insightful and deep….and to drive, but I like driving, and I much preferred to drive with my directionally challenged friends. Otherwise, there were no weights to keep pressed over my head all the time.
As “I get to be there,” rolls around in me, I think of weights not surrendered…maybe not pressed in full extension, but worn round my shoulders like some mantle….mine, always mine.
I lost my grandmother, seven years ago, the one that I am suspiciously quiet about. Words, tears are yet under the cloak of “I have to…” Then there’s that ten years of my life lost and all the friendships I sacrificed, and the daylight vision that now seems nightmare and ….
I am doing something that I never do…I’m going to go grieve…some things.
I have to…