The Beginning of My Intentional Walk

I have some regret for two things I have done. One is my failure to journal through the illness and death of my mother, and two is the compartmentalizing my grief. Although I regret both things, I know my emotional survival has depended on what my mind would call a failure. I have lived long enough to know that I must allow my heart to win such battles.

Now my heart says it is time to begin and the mind is reluctant. I know I must take one small step at a time. There is no map, no GPS. I am not sure where the path will lead although I have been told by others there is a sort of healing and a lessening of pain along the way. Today I believe that. Yesterday I didn’t believe. Who knows if tomorrow will support that belief.

I am surprised by how unpredictable is this thing called grief. Some feelings were expected; sorrow, pain and anger. But, I didn’t expect simple things to trigger my feelings; a pair of shoes, a calendar, a happy memory.

Even in reaching out to others I feel alone. I have decided to take myself by the hand. I hope that the wisdom of my short years will be enough to serve as a guide. I have faith that Faith will be a strong tower.