Today is Easter Sunday; my first Easter Sunday without you. Before you passed away I loved attending church. Sitting in sacrament meeting I felt the quiet, gentle peace the Spirit brings. Listening to Sunday school and RS lessons I often felt fortified and enriched. Things are different now. Instead of feeling peace I feel emptiness. Instead of feeling strengthened I feel forsaken in some ways.
Since you passed everything seems to be about death or finding joy in your afflictions. Joy? Do people honestly believe I should be happy? I lost my Mom and some twenty-one year old kid is telling me I need to rejoice in my afflictions? I don't think so.
Then there's the guilt I feel because I am unable to sympathize with others whose trials seem trivial compared with my own. I just want to stand up in the middle of Sacrament meeting and tell them to grow up and just be grateful they still have both of their parents with them on earth. I know that I am being selfish and critical but I'm just so emotionally unavailable right now I can't even listen to other people complain about anything.
So last Sunday I didn't go to church. Instead I followed my heart and took the train into DC. I returned the keys I accidentally kept to the DH and then sat in Lafayette Park. The miracle of it all was Shawna and Gary called when I was en route to DH. I had misunderstood Shawna when she called on Thursday saying they were coming into town. I thought she meant the following weekend but I was wrong. She said they were in town that very day and wanted to walk around the monuments. I told her I was already in DC and they could meet me at the Smithsonian Castle gardens.
I can't even describe to you what a miracle it was she called me. I had been thinking, since receiving her initial call on Thursday, how wonderful it would be to see them that weekend. When she called and said they wanted to spend time with me and wanted to walk around DC I was grateful and actually excited.
Mom, it was the perfect Sunday. We walked, talked, cried, laughed, and hugged for four hours. It was exactly what I needed. I felt more peace and greater hope with them than I have felt after attending church since January 30th. I could freely express my feelings and they totally understood. They didn't try to placate me by saying things like, "now your mother is your own personal angel or now she can be with you all the time." Instead they just listened and understood, which is exactly what I need most. I need to surround myself with people who have experienced loss and who have survived the hell that follows, because that is exactly what it feels like; hell.
After walking for awhile we decided to eat dinner at The Old Tabbard Inn. Eve had taken me there last winter and I loved it. The atmosphere is so cozy and intimate. Perfect restaurant for a couple who's been dating for awhile. I wouldn't recommend it for a first date. Anyway, I'm not sure why but sitting there in the upper dining room there was a moment that I felt we weren't alone. I didn't feel you but I felt someone was very happy we were there together. Feeling that made me happy too. I didn't share that with Shawna and Gary. Sometimes I think I am too open about my feelings. I think I often share things with people who don't really care or don't really believe me. Not that Shawna and Gary wouldn't but other people I have shared intimate feelings or thoughts with have not been receptive and at times even critical. I guess I've learned that not everything is meant to be shared.
I am not sure if I told you this but Shawna reminds me of you. She's fun and loves to do and see things. Like you she wears a 7 1/2 shoe so we can exchange shoes, which we did last Sunday. I let her wear my tennis shoes because hers weren't as comfortable. I also noticed one of her eyebrows is like yours. Something I hadn't noticed until last Sunday. Being with her, in a strange way, made me feel closer to you. I just regret they live so far away and I can't see them more often.
This morning I have been trying to remember past Easter Sundays. I remember shopping for Easter baskets, getting that stupid green plastic grass everywhere, dyeing eggs, wearing my Easter dress to church, how Dad would buy you a corsage for church, and coming home to Easter dinner, which was usually something you had left cooking in the crock pot. I miss the packages you sent me when I went to school filled with Easter candy and Easter bunnies or chickies. Do you remember the lamb I bought you one year for Easter? You used to keep it on your dresser and we called it Lambie. I need to find him when I go home and finish sorting through your things.
I am sure I haven't told you, although you probably already know, but Dad found George. He's bringing him up this week, along with your blankets and the corn doll you bought in New Mexico. If I don't go to MS I will probably pack it up and go home for awhile. I know Dad could use some help around the house and Josh tells me every time we talk I need to be near family. I guess he's right. I'm just afraid. Which sounds ridiculous but I am. Afraid of what I may become of what I may be tempted to do if I move back; give up.
On this Easter Sunday I don't expect miracles or packages. No one sent me packages except you. I don't expect to feel peace at church and I probably won't join Scott for dinner. To be honest, I don't really want to remember its Easter. I hope in time this will change. That gratitude will fill the void and memories will be enough.
Although I have been scanning a lot of photos, I wasn't able to find one of us on this holiday. I did find a few of your family taken the year before you were born; Easter 1955. I included a photo of your Dad, Great Uncle Blair, Dennis and Danny for you. Its strange to think you are with most of the people in the photo today; Grandpa, "Grandpa" Blair and Dennis. I hope wherever you are you are at peace.
Love you-
Sissy