Here Comes the Anger!

I am effing mad!  For days at a time I hold my grief inside.  I don’t like to cry.  I think its because I’m always around so many different people and I genuinely hate explaining myself.  When people see you crying, they want to fix it.  They expect that you will just let it all out and talk about whatever the tears fall for.  But guess what?  The majority don’t want to talk about it.  The majority of us don’t even really want to be crying let alone discuss the reasoning.  So, to avoid all of that, I just try not to cry.

The problem with this is, we can only hold it in for so long.  The longer you hold it in, the bigger the event when it finally does come out.  Last night was my big event.  I couldn’t hold it back any longer, so out it came.  I cried.  Loudly and hard.  I was mad that I was crying, then I was mad for the reason I was crying, I was mad at my dad for leaving me and my mom the way he did, and really I was mad at the world for being so cruel.  No one should have to experience this pain…yet, all of us at one time or another…do.

Tonight I feel rage.  The kind of rage only a mother can feel when she can’t take her child’s pain from him.  My oldest son has been holding it all in like the rest of us.  He’s much better at it than I.  But tonight, I think the same spirit that got to me last night, unleashed on him tonight.  My son entered my room bursting in tears and holding up a Christmas card that my father had given him a couple of years ago.  In it, my dad wrote about how special my son was to him and how proud of him he was and how he wanted him to always follow his dreams.  I felt so bad for him and so helpless.  He hurts like the rest of us, but he doesn’t show it as much or as often.  He evades ever talking about it unless he feels under control of his emotions.  I held my son close for the few short moments he allowed me to do so and we cried.  I told him to that the card was a piece of his grandpa that he left behind for my son so he would always remember him.  I told him to put the card somewhere safe so he would always have it when he wanted to remember just how special he was to his grandpa.

Of course all of this led to more anger.  I’m so mad at my dad for leaving my son to hurt like this.

But my anger never lasts very long.  I know better.  I know my dad would never intentionally hurt my son this way and I know that through all of our pain, if we survive it, comes strength and a better understanding of who we are as individuals.  But still it sucks.  For now, my anger is comforting so I’m going to choose to allow it to stay with me for awhile.  I understand now, why it is an important part of grief.  In your sadness, you find comfort in your anger.  Strange.

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