Grieflands

It is January 13th, the birthday of my oldest brother. This year, he has achieved a significant milestone as well as he has become the senior male member of our family. So on Saturday, we had an early celebration. As a teenager, he helped our dad on his eighteen seater boat. Dad rewarded him and us by giving us the boat to go on picnics along the river. My mother fretted that folk would be very critical if there was an accident. My father declared that my brother loved the boat as much as he did and would act responsibly. My brother never let him down. To remind him of those days, his birthday cake was crowned with a jaunty boat and the name "Pomeroon Pilgrim" was etched in blue on its side. Everyone enjoyed themselves and no one wished that Dad was there. Another milestone was successfully passed across the track of grief.

The Christmas tree was decorated early but in my forced attempt at normality , too much emotional energy was expended. The boxes of cards I had bought were opened but week after week remained unwritten. My annual family letter stayed on the to do list as I tried to make sense of my internal voices. Some asked me to go easy on myself. After all, I have lost the most cherished person in my life. Healing takes time. Other voices urge me not to be self-indulgent with the ceaseless reminders that I have so much for which to be thankful. "Though much is taken , much remain" is still as true as when first written. Despite my father's loss, I am grateful for the good things in my life and I'm deeply thankful for the time I was blessed just being his daughter. After Christmas 2009, my brother-in-law cried (to his wife's annoyance as she did not want to cry too) when dad left because he felt that that would be his last holiday with him. We all coped with anticipatory grief according to our temperament as the shadow of death inched ever closer. Then death arrived!

December, 2010,we enjoyed a Christmas Eve meal with invited friends. Christmas night all my sisters and their families with my mother slept under one roof. At 1.20 am on December 26th, we celebrated surviving our first Christmas with sighs of relief. Another milestone had passed and over the three days , we adapted and adjusted to a world without our dad. Going through the motions has brought me to a different stage of my journey; further along than if I had stayed in the paralysis of grief. Sometimes, it is hard to even do that but it is always worth the effort. My brother's party was a big effort but it signaled that I can look beyond myself and I know that one day, my journey across Griefland would be over because the God who gives us new, clean hearts can repair broken ones.