To Cry

Written by Dr. Tricia Working

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last modified on Thursday, 29 March 2012 03:10

 

 

Those who don't know me, would think that I did not grieve Papa, in fact, probably so would those who know me, because they saw no tears nor emotion, except for a very few - who know of behind the mask of strength.  I even went through his things and rearranged his room, shared memories with others - and nothing.  But do I feel nothing? No, rather, I have frozen the feeling until - oh, some such time in the future when I am stronger, more capable, when I have the time to cry.  I think part of me felt that their loss was more important than mine, a father or brother over a grandfather, and perhaps because I never doubted his love for me, I felt I needed to be there for whoever might need me.

 

I don't feel his death yet, perhaps because I took it onto myself and because I experienced it and held him and kissed him and because maybe, I had no one to entrust my pain with that would care for it tenderly, no one I trusted,anyway.  I'm glad I wrote what ended up his euology, but what hurt me, was my own mother and father didn't realize I wrote it, they thought someone else did - I can't even write now - I thought I could - but it is still all too tightly squeezed inside me and the words are not right

 

 

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