Thursday, September 22, 2011

Too Big A Guest

I dreamt that there was yet another funeral for Robb.  This one was filled entertainers.

Street performers, ballerinas, a clown on a unicycle, a barber shop quartet, balloon vendors, a hot dog stand, a mime, and tap dancers. 

A full-on Busker Festival.

And everyone was invited to leave their gifts, wrapped in bright colors and frilly ribbons, in the Gift Room to the left.

It was one big celebration.

I revolted.  A complete temper tantrum, toddler style, worthy of an Oscar.  I kicked and writhed on the floor, pounding my fists.  "Stop making me celebrate!  Stop!  Stop making me celebrate!" 

Where did this dream come from?  What is my brain trying to say, other than I'd rather not have another funeral for Robb, and I don't want to invite all of Barnum & Bailey?

It is this: I cannot celebrate.  Anything.  I've tried.  I wish I could.  I miss the joy.

Birthday parties, anniversaries, milestones, anything loud and excessive, really anything bigger than a cupcake.  Others are welcome to; please, feel free, celebrate.  Thank you for inviting me, but I have to decline. 

Celebration is too big a guest; she allows no room for me.  So I have to step aside, slip out the door.

If I stay, I might revolt.  And that could ruin the party for everyone.

***
"Wearing mourning in the old days was not such a bad idea, 
because it took into visible account the fact of death, 
which we now try to hide, so that it won't embarrass others."

~ Madeleine L'Engle,  
Two-Part Invention

10 comments:

Jaimie said...

My parents had an affair two years ago (parent, anyway) and I find it impossible to get excited when anyone is getting married. Or maybe I was always like this -- I don't know. I think I might have been. But sometimes things are so big they have a way of changing the way you see yourself in the past, too.

Cheryl said...

Slip out the door, but please come make plans to come back when you're ready...

Chaim B said...

I'm sorry.

And Amen.

I've not seemed that described so well anywhere else.

It's kind of like when I'm asked how I am. How can I ever say I'm fine when my heart is broken? When I'm missing a piece of my family?

Sending you a hug!

Chaim B said...

I'm sorry.

And Amen!

I've not seen that described this well before.

It's kind of like when I'm asked how I'm doing. How can I say fine or well when my heart is broken?

Sending you a hug!

Pati @ A Crafty Escape said...

You're not alone in feeling this way. Ever since my mom passed away in May my dad is having a hard time with special days. He feels like a hypocrite acting happy for others when inside he's dying.

Maegan said...

Wow! I often wonder how we progressed from Biblical times of people tearing their clothes and screaming/wailing in the streets to putting on smiles and trying to not make others uncomfortable??? I for one, would much rather be wailing in the streets!

GINA said...

I will pray right now that God wil bring you to the place when you can celebrate again....in His timing.

Anne Bosworth said...

(((((Tricia))))) I wish I could hug you into next week and irritate the daylights out of a Starbucks crew by sitting in their comfy chair space and chatting with you for a few hours. I'll condense and reduce to nearly the least common denominator...

I haven't had a Christmas tree in two years.

I hear you. You don't need what I send you this morning (I totally know that) but just the same...I send you validation and approval and companionship and compassion...all the things that say this pain (and these thoughts and experiences etc)is such a paradox...in one sense all yours--unique and untouchable...and in another sense so very well understood to the point of "Ya...me too!"

Sending you love greater than comprehension allows...

Anne

Terry said...

dear tricia..i wish that people could understand this...when my sister gracey had to say good bye to her husband so suddenly[he was sick for only two weeks], she was really hurting..and now whenever weddings and wedding showers come along, they don't understand at all why it is too hard for gracey to attend...i mean WHY don't they understand?...are they like me who has never even had this heartache?...they must be...love terry

Janeen said...

A blessing, dreams...sorta...where you can have another visit, or where you can throw the royal tantrum that your responsible self won't let you have in real life. Let 'er rip, in whichever realm works for you.