I have avoided updating this blog for over a week now…it has been an eventful week, month, summer, year. I am realizing that in great pain, I become an introvert. For the extreme extrovert I am most of the time, when it is hitting the fan, I recluse. In my hibernation, it is when I do most of my thinking, and that thinking feels so fragile, so frail, that I can not bring myself to put it into prose…not yet. Songs have been written in the past two weeks, and time has been given to articulating within my mind what it is I’ve been feeling, what exactly it is I’m thinking about life’s changing events – especially those for which I have little or no control – but I haven’t felt like writing…until today.
Today found me peeking out from my cave. The sun not quite out, the outside world still feels unsafe, but I finally felt comfortable enough to indulge myself in the magnitude of the journey I’ve been on here.
That was the conclusion I came to.
Surreal that I was at the cemetery to bury my Aunt Saturday, where I had walked with her three months earlier to dress (in German tradition) my mother, Oma and Opa’s tombstones with flowers.
Surreal that as I stood around the freshly opened grave, I could hear the conversation I’d had with my Aunt about needing to buy a plot for herself; a day I told her was so far down the road we shouldn’t bother discussing it.
Surreal that after the burial, we went to the closest Swiss Chalet in town; the Swiss Chalet I had met my Oma and Aunt only one short year ago for my birthday which had passed on the 19th. From where I sat, I saw the table that had cozily accommodated us as we exchanged stories and gifts; it sat empty.
In less than 12 months, life changed so radically for our small family, that at times it seems surreal; and I’m left a little shell-shocked.