Make Believe

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.

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