THROUGH

There is a saying about grief.  The only way out is through.  I'm familiar with the process.  I did it when I found out I couldn't have children, I did it when we lost Luci and again while he was in rehab.  I know there is another side.  I know I will look back at this time and revel at the lessons learned and the strength of character I gained, but right now I just see grief as this black serpent coming to get me.  There are times I win the war and times he is able to spindle his writhing body around my own and hold on.  Today was one of those days.  I woke up to the stark reality that I am alone.  That the king bed I inhabit is mine and mine alone.  The bathroom with two sinks they're all mine too.  The mess left in the garage and the sink in the kitchen that is clogged mine, mine, mine.  I let myself cry it out and then expected that spindly snake to let me be.  I fought it at first.  I made my lists of tasks to accomplish.  I fixed the half ass paint job in the bedroom.  I unclogged the sink.  I called and got a better rate on car insurance.  But as each task was done he didn't let go, today he held on the whole damn day.  So today I let him have me.  I turned on the television, put my rattiest pajamas on, felt a little sorry for myself, let my eyes leak at random.  Today I let grief have me by the neck.  So Mr. Black Serpent you've had your day.  Tomorrow you may not have me back.  Tomorrow I will enjoy my day at the river with my friends and revel in the fact that it is summer vacation.  I know there will be other days like today.  I know the serpent isn't done with me by a long shot, but you see I'll let him have his way every once in awhile, but I refuse to be the victim in this scenario.  I will walk through this with my head held high.  If the only way out is through, through it we shall go.