Exuming my soul

I'm back and evolving. As of late I have felt like a Gothic painting with a hand clapped over my mouth. It's not that I haven't wanted to speak; I feel like I have been yelling out muffled by perceptions of what I should be thinking, believing and experiencing at this discrete point in my life.

I have felt compressed and stolen from in Debbie's death. But not in a way that most would think. There are many wonderful things about her and those unique and beautiful aspects of her will be treasured and missed. I feel as if I lost my husband. Since we have been married I feel as though she has taken from my husband much more than she has given. The reason that makes me angry is that more than any person on this earth KJ coveted her blanket of affection. I felt like he always had her approval and admiration but he openly asked for the affection and it was generally withheld; in her presence (physical or verbal) he was a little boy longing for his mommy to care. We seemed to live in the flux of momentary bliss of her approval, affection and admiration and mostly aching for it to return. When I learned that her cancer was terminal I exhaled; at least my children will not have to live through this continual rollercoaster of false promises and copious heartache.

She died on March 29th, 2010. She was the woman who made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. I had thought in her parting we would finally move on. I was angry at her because I felt that she would never give to KJ or our family what she expected to be given to her. I thought life was finally blooming; spring; Easter.

What I do understand is that this truly is the season of Epiphany. We are learning to walk in God's presence in life and death. The truth is, now has been the hardest part. Ironically, she has been the most present she ever was in KJ's life- she is in his dreams each night and they do things he loves (this has happened for about a month). He is constantly raw and I am drained from this pilgramage. I am beginning to see that her appearance in his dreams are her gift offering of the mother she wasn't when she was alive; he still needs her. I finally realized that I am angry that this process is dragging on. I think something in me associates prior pain with his mother in his grieving process and I just want it to be done so we can move on to the good part.

What is the good part? I am trying to figure that out. We are alive. We have space to figure out what it means to know God, life, family this side of existence. I love what Matisyahu says about this emptiness:

Being that a woman is a reflection of God, this means that I also have a void or empty space within. True creation must come from this place... this is the ultimate act of God's giving to us....autonomy.