Gettysburg

Grief can be a deceptive monster, meandering through our lives in and out at different times stirring anger, sorrow, loss, longing - all the feels.

I was staying on the outskirts of the historic battleground in early September 2020 when I got the news.  I had already been in a state of my own self-imposed grief and trying to escape from reality as I knew it.  Everything was gone.  Everything was lost.  Or I thought so.  And then I realized there was more to come.

Life was coming.  At 2am I got a text saying that my best friend and his wife were heading to the Hospital… The birth of their daughter was eminent.

Then death.  At 6am I got the phone call.  It was my uncle.  My mom had passed.  Unexpectedly and suddenly - days after a questionable surgery and hospital stay.

Life and death work that way.  In conjunction; ebbing and flowing through the lives of those around us.  Through our lives.  Grief comes with that.

My own grief:

My past - a childhood with hidden demons. 

Excuses and not ever quite understanding my purpose here.

My present (2020):

The Toxic relationship that I worshiped.

And finally My mom.

I have grieved.  I’ve reached down and dealt with the passages of hurt and loss that bound me for years.

There are moments I wish I could go back, like the ghosts in the Christmas Carol and tell those who witnessed my chaos firsthand what was going on inside.  That my own selfish desires fueled an already fragile psyche into the abyss of self destruction.  That I knew he was going to show up (the abuser WOULD rear his head at the funeral).  That I was sure she WOULD show up at my side.  That I WOULD be able to make it through the day without the taste of spirits on my breath.  That I WOULD be able to grief… SOMETHING.

And in my mind none of it happened.  Well, I thought none of it happened.  My abuser did show up, to be spurned by my ‘fighter aunt’ who protected a man who didn’t want to be protected.  I wanted a fight.

The Gettysburg of my emotions, my grief; my pain.  And just like Gettysburg, it didn’t end well.

Today, I stand on another mountain that bears the carvings of soldiers of that same war.  I felt a tear form in my eye.  Grief can appear at any time.  We feel, we breathe in this experience that is life, and we all face loss - death.

I’ve forgiven Lee.  But I still have no desire to see him.  The spiral I went on was partly fueled by his rape of more than just my innocence.

I felt betrayed by someone who never showed up.  I know that’s NOT the type of person I want in my life now.

I wish I could tell my brother what I was feeling then.  What I’d been feeling for a long time.  That I needed help and I just wasn’t in a good place.  That I was sorry.  Maybe one day.

My daughter had to bear more than a child, no a young lady should ever deal with.  Watching her father start to vanish, knowing that she had already lost one parent, She was an unwilling participant in my roller coaster.  Though I have looked at her in the face and told her I was sorry, there will come with time where we have a deeper conversation about everything.

My sons both were shielded slightly from the wreckage, but they didn’t get through unscathed.

 

I’ve made my amends to my Dad.  He knows where I stand.  And not by words.  But by one day at a time living this life outside of the bondage of my head and a bottle.

And I’ve grieved my mom.  Not in the moment.  But in conversations over the last year and a half and a walk up a mountain.

I can rest now.  In each and every day and know that I am steady, present and truly alive.

There will be battles still left to fight, but they’re just minor skirmishes in a war that was ended November 19, 2020.

~ Peace

The Burtle