Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Introspective Thievery

I had barely turned the corner when I could see the flags whipping in the wind. I was still several blocks away when I saw the bright yellow triangle signs of the Patriot Guard setting up a red, white and blue perimeter around the temple.

My breath had started to come faster the moment I saw the flags, but now as I was getting ready to turn into the alley to get to the parking lot, I was starting to panic. The tears came suddenly and violently and I knew that I would not be able to stay for the funeral.

I felt awful and relieved all at once. I felt like I should just suck it up and this wasn’t about me, so I needed to be there to support her as her highly decorated husband was brought into their place of worship in a box. But I also felt like I had figured out how to let myself off the hook. I was not grieving for her husband. I was grieving for my friend who had been killed the same way going on three years ago.

And despite my best efforts, I could not get my grief to fit into this particular situation or box. It was unwieldy and uncertain. Like a horse that has been cooped up for days. The first few steps out of the stall are awkward and tentative. Testing the earth beneath making sure everything still works. But then there is a tensing of the muscles and a relaxation into expectation as his speed explodes from within.

I’m trying to steal a moment of introspection in the midst of all. A moment to help sort out the mish-mash of craziness and emotion and sadness that is my being right now. But introspection and soccer games and 2 year olds and grocery shopping just don’t mix.

So I’m holding on. By the skin of my teeth. Trying to find solace in the daily routine, but mostly feeling suffocated by it. Trying to just be and feel without being consumed. Trying to stay connected to my world and the responsibilities within it. But mostly just wanting to run away to a place where laundry doesn’t matter and insurance companies actually pay the doctor bills, where I actually want my children to crawl all over me and where things make sense and parents don’t die because of a modern day crusade.

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