Okay, in case it isn’t already obvious from recent posts on this blog, I am/we are experiencing sorrow due to my husband, Anthony’s physical and mental deterioration (courtesy of Parkinson’s disease). Ming, our son is also experiencing sorrow but from a sensible distance and that is fine and understandable.
So the bulk of this sorrow is mine alone – of course it is and I can’t, and don’t, expect anyone else to take it on because why should they? All of our friends and family have their own lives, their own joys and challenges and, sometimes, their own personal sorrows.
Even Anthony himself doesn’t feel the intensity of sorrow I feel and that is a good thing – a wonderful thing. And, as for me, this is my own deep sorrow that cannot be alleviated by invitations to dinner or movies or lunches or all of those suggestions from my beautiful friends, because this sorrow is not self-indulgent – it is a simple reality and it is inescapable. It doesn’t plunge me into a pit of despair; it just is and it somehow stills my soul.
This kind of sorrow doesn’t want or need cheering up; it doesn’t need distraction; it needs to be felt in its entirety, to be embraced and acknowledged and never avoided. It sits on my shoulder like a half tame bird who might fly off at any time – unpredictable.
Sorrow needs to be faced without fear and, strangely perhaps, it also needs to be embraced, accepted, absorbed and, for me, this is (despite the openness of this blog), deeply personal. I need to do this sorrow thing by myself. So for my beautiful neighbour-friends who care enough to want to rescue me from this sorrow, please let me be for awhile – let me figure it out by myself because I know that I can and will.
I am no longer afraid of sorrow.