It's been an interesting journey with few demands other than an openness to the idea that grief does end and each of us in the group will get through it. Some days it's been easier to see/feel that than others.
This week is different. We have a mandatory assignment. We're supposed to write a letter to our missing loved one. I've been dragging my feet. In fact blogging right now is all about avoidance. The house is quiet, I'm by myself with lots of space and time to write. The thing is I don't want to go there.
Partly Little Me has stomped her foot down and put her hands on her hips and is giving her uh-uh-not-going-to-do-it face. She doesn't like it when people tell her something is mandatory! You're not the boss of me she silently bristles, even though she knows and I know I'll do it. I just have to posture a little.
Now that I've given myself permission to dawdle just a few minutes longer, I'm going to sign off and at least try to write the letter. Really, what do you say to your dead father? I guess I'll find out.
If you don't mind me asking, when you read this will you stop for a few seconds and send some hugs and light in my direction. I don't like being alone and sometimes I'm afraid of the dark.
Thanks for listening,