I am a runner, literally and figuratively. I did a marathon in 2006 and 2008 will be the "year of the 10 milers." I also run from emotional pain. Did I mention I am a fast runner?
The Ex's Grandmother passed away the other day. Not unexpected at 94. In fact she announced her passing a couple weeks ago and called her children to her side. Brave, smart lady.
Grandmother and I had a true, loving relationship. I called her Grandmother. She called me her granddaughter. I was blessed; I was lucky.
She knew about the separation and was saddened but continued to care about me.
Now she is gone, and I cannot go to her funeral. The Ex has asked me not to. Considering the funeral is 8 hours away in a remote location and the family thing is all weird, I will honor his request. Truth be told, the thought of NOT riding 8 hours one way through curvy roads all by myself doesn't upset me. Besides, She was extremely important to Ex. She called him her "onliest." (the only boy, ok that's just annoying but I loved her anyway. Yes, I often signed cards, "The Onliest's Wife" She thought it was funny.)
I was ok with the whole "not going" thing. Well, I said I was ok. Then my daughter asked if I were going. And I said, "No Dad thinks it's best if I don't go." And I saw the pain on her face. And I said, "But we're improving - we actually talked about it, right? And I think we're getting along better." My desire to shield my children overcomes my desire to speak my true heart, clearly.
Then today I ordered the flowers for the funeral. Wild horses couldn't stop me from doing that. Hopefully a big, gorgeous display of her favorite: pink roses. And then I hung up the phone and cried. Why? Because I can't say goodbye. Because I don't get to see the whole family that I still care deeply about. Because my daughter has to go through this without me - we are very close. She'll tell me stuff she won't tell anyone else. So I tell myself this is a good thing - she'll maybe open up to her dad. Or her cousins. Look on the bright side, this is a growing experience for us all. Right?
Bull Sh**. I'm mad and I'm hurt and I'm sad. And I am running to Florida to jump on a sailboat and go sailing while my family mourns. Maybe then I won't have to think about it. Besides, my rugs at home are too piled up and lumpy with stuff I've previously swept under there to handle this one.