Back to the anger topic. There are moments I recognize anger in my children and their emotions that link to the grief spectrum. It isn’t only me that feels the intensity of anger. These little bodies of theirs also hold strong feelings.
They see my anger.
They mimic me.
I hate to admit it. I am not sure how to handle all of this. I am displeased, better yet embarrassed by my reactions.
At this stage of loss for children under the age of four years old, they will reflect my behavior back to me as what they define as normal. That means they can show empathy, share tears, be sad, copy melancholy. And when I scream, they will probably scream, too.
A play therapist told me last month that we have set up a little family grieving center right inside our own home. It is safe and natural; it occurs without trying. When did that happen? When will we be normal again? When will a day be just a day and not another day without a husband and a dad? I don’t want to be a grieving facility. I want to be a family.