Last week I started writing thank you notes for the flowers and monetary donations that were made in my mom's honor. When I finally sat down to get to work, I was struck by total and complete writer's block. What did I say when I didn't know what kind of plant/flowers had been sent? How did I even start the inscription? I was at a total loss. So, to jog my brain, I called and talked to a very good friend, who's wife had buried her mother seven summers ago. In talking about thank you's and cards and grieving, he told me about how as the sympathy cards rolled in, they would often get caught sitting in the car out by the mail box crying their eyes out as they read through the cards that had come that day.
For me, it isn't the obvious things that trigger the sorrow. We've been getting a pretty steady flow of sympathy cards which is good because it lets us know other people are missing her too, or understand our loss. The cards however, don't make me want to cry. I think since I'm prepared for them, I can brace myself and read through them. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm a heartless jerk because I rarely will start crying at an obvious trigger like that. It seems that I've been able to tuck my grief away in a little room of sorts, with the door firmly shut. Although if I open that door, even a little bit, whether by talking about her, or reading my last post, or writing about her....then it comes pushing out. (For you Friends fans, it's like Monica's special closet where she keeps her secret mess.) I'm okay with that, I know it's there, I know that it will sneak out on occasion unwarranted. For the most part though, this is the only way I know how to deal with deep hurt.
Anyone who wants to psycho-analyze me can think what you will, but I prefer it this way. My grief and sorrow are private things to me, and I prefer to lick my wounds in private. I especially don't like crying in front of others. With my complexion, you can tell I've cried HOURS after the event. I don't mind people asking me how I am, I don't mind words of encouragement in their many forms....I just like being able to confront the void in my own way, whenever possible.
I'm not sure I'd be able to do it had mom's death been a shock. I"m guessing not nearly as well. I suppose I started preparing my little room six months ago.