The Funeral

Oct 8, 2011 by

Death is such a transformative experience. It has the ability to bring out the crazies in us all and have us running for the nearest escape. It can also be a beautiful opportunity for growth and connection with loved ones.

For the past few days I have been fighting my own demons of fear. My Nan passed away last week.

I have been working on feeling my feelings and allowing my emotions to show their many faces. Normally I would have immediately buried myself in a casino and played until the real pain was replaced with another, more familiar pain of loss.

This time was different.

I cried.

Off and on all week long I have mourned the loss of my Nan. I have leaned on others for support. I have listened to my inner voice and have watched for signs guiding me to make the right choices.

I wasn’t going to go. I was waiting to hear that it was ok. I felt that I needed permission to be there. Nan hasn’t been mine my whole life. I married her first grandson. And then I divorced him. I still consider them my family, but I wasn’t sure I belonged there because I was afraid.

I was fearful that I would be rejected. Could I risk making my pain even worse? If I went would I see that I have been living a dream and that I’m not really welcome anymore? I would be devastated.

When it came down to it I realized that I had to do what was best for me. I had to go. I was willing to risk the rejection in the case that it might not actually happen. I wanted to be with my family.

When I finally decided to go to the funeral 1 hour later I watched a truck drive by with a sign advertising an insurance agent in the back of it. The agent’s name? Grieve.

As I picked up my 11 year old step son from school and I told him I was going to go he said something that made my head spin. He was proud of me for standing up for myself. He knew how important it was for me and he was happy I was doing what I needed to do without listening to outside influence. That was a beautiful lesson for both of us.

When I arrived in Ft. Lauderdale I had the best service EVER from the folks at Alamo as I picked up the rental car. One of the men even gave me his cell number and told me to consider him my personal gps. Turns out his parents were buried where my Nan was going.

I found the places I needed to go and talked to the friendliest people. I opened my heart to accepting their kindness and love. I allowed them to take care of me when my burden was too heavy to bear alone.

I wish I could adequately express how blessed I feel right now. I am filled with faith and love. I was able to say goodbye and mourn with my family. I was welcomed with open arms and I knew I was exactly where I needed to be.

A few days ago I created a post wishing I were brave. As it turns out, I am.

 

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2 Comments

  1. Holly Hakes Petersen

    You. You, you, you, my sister, are courageous, and compassionate, and willing, and you are a bright and shining star. How fortunate I feel to know you. Commit this fabulous experience to memory and pull it out whenever you need convincing that you are not enough, or that you are too afraid to move forward, or any other self-sabotaging thoughts you might try to wound yourself with. Facts are facts. You have done it, you are doing it now, and you can do it again – any time you wish. Namaste’, Blessed One.

    • Ah Holly, my soul sister. You are truly a blessing in my life and I adore you. Thank you so much for your encouragement. I will remember this experience and pull it out when I need a lift. Your advice, as always, is golden. Namaste.

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