It’s a funny thing about grief – handling it efficiently doesn’t make it go away. –Author Unknown
I suppose staying up until 2:00 AM doesn’t make grief go away either.
Tonight I cleaned my room. It was cluttered with many items from the funeral and I wanted to sort things out. I told my mother-in-law that I was organizing my life. I wish it were that simple. I wish I could get it all “sorted out” in one evening. But, that is just wishful thinking. I have a long way to go before life will ever start to feel “sorted” again.
As I sat in my closet I had a whimsical thought. I wished Shawn would peek around the corner with his index finger pressed slyly against his lips, motioning me to be still and directing me to keep a secret. I imagined myself playing along. I promised him that I wouldn’t tell anyone that he had visited. Then began the bargaining. In my make-believe charade I begged him to sit with me and tell me what it was like on the other side of time and space. I vowed not to say a word if only I could know where he is, what he is doing and when I will see him again. This enchanted thought lasted an entire thirteen seconds before I was disheartened by my own realism. I am disappointed with practicality. I am disillusioned by efficiency. I am disinterested in sensibleness. I’d rather sit in my closet and play hide and seek. If only Shawn could come find me.
