If you’ve been reading for a while, you know that I like to process on the page. The last 48 hours that my mother was breathing, before morphine made it impossible for her to speak she would wheeze, “This too shall pass.” It was consciously spoke to comfort herself, as well as a subtle parting lesson on her way out for my benefit. But it’s coming back to me as my father makes a grief support friend that may or may not become only platonic.
Saturday was nine months since my mother died of cancer, nine months where I have processed what it means to allow someone to transition fully from this world on a spiritual level. While there has been great beauty and comfort in the lessons that have come from the death of my mother, my father and the lessons he still provide prove to be trickier. The grief process has layers and I’ve hit another one of mine. The set-up? My father spent the evening with a woman he’s become friends with, out to dinner and a movie this past weekend. For the most part, my belief system colored by A Course in Miracles and Abraham-Hicks has allowed me to gently move through my grief and sit in support of my father’s process. For the most part I’m able to find deeper meaning and sit in a place of love with everything eventually. In fact, I’ve been congratulating myself with how well I have been processing over the past few months and truth be told I’ve been a little cocky with it. 🙂
Last night it smacked me in the face that I still have some processing to do in allowing for the death of the family unit, and the dissolution of the ties that bind us together. I haven’t been triggered like this for a while, but when he called me Mother’s Day evening and told me all about his date I’m not sure what bothered me more, the fact he went on about himself and his connection to this woman for a full 30 minutes or that it was Mother’s Day and it never occurred to him that I may have been feeling the absents of my mother especially strongly.
It took 70 minutes on the treadmill to process my visceral reaction into anger. Then another hour to get myself settled. I was not sitting in love, but in the absents of it. Humanly twisting into petty emotions that brought to light where a layer of my attachments lay.
Just when I think I’ve accepted that my father is a human being, a soul first, my inner teenager attempts to hijack my emotions. Today I want to honor that teenager, honor her horror that nine months into his vulnerable grief my father is looking for some measure of comfort from any life raft. Today I want to allow myself to be where I am, not wanting to know that he’s having a connection, sweaty palms and tummy flutters. To acknowledge that my inner teenager is horrified he may want to bringing another person into our lives one day. Then I want to pivot it into a place of love, because its my choice where I focus and I know what feels better.
Shifting emotions is incremental, you can’t go from deep resentment to loving acceptance instantly, it takes movements up the emotional scale. This morning as I was sitting with this layer of my awareness, asking for the deeper lesson, I was reminded that this too shall pass, no emotion is forever. That parting lesson from my mother was a reminded to just breathe into it all without being so hard on myself when I don’t get it ‘right’ instantly.