I have gone out of my way to avoid the parking lot of our doctor's office for two years and two months. I'd park on the other side of the building and walk the long way to get to my appointment. As I approached the glass doors to the dreaded parking from the opposite entrance I'd avoid looking at one specific tree. This tree marked the spot where Jeff died in my arms. Under the branches of this tree, in our family car he took his last breaths.
I did not think I'd EVER be able to enter that parking lot again. So very time appointments were scheduled only to be attended late because of my pathway of avoidance.
A few days ago the kids and I were running so very late for a visit with our doctor to deal with a run of pinkeye through our house. I sped like I was competing in the Indy 500 only to be stuck in a line-up behind an accident. I had planned to park in our now usual parking area to maintain my avoidance of the scene of our loss but as I screeched around the corner, I was suddenly struck by just how silly this was. I was going to be even later for an appointment because I was afraid. Afraid of what? The worst had already happened in that lot. Was I afraid I would relive losing Jeff all over again? I already do this on a regular basis. Was I scared that I would have a panic attack, not be able to breathe, lose the plot right there in the parking lot? I didn't have this luxury. My kids were with me. I am bullet-proof when my kids need me to be strong for them.
So, in a split second decision I faced that lot down. I didn't park in the exact spot as I had that day in March 2008. But I parked nearby. I grabbed Liv's hand, picked Briar up and ran for the doors. To anyone watching I would have looked like any other mother late for an appointment. They wouldn't have known of the demon I had just conquered. My triumph was unnoticed by anyone but me. My visit to that lot was so very quiet and quick - so unlike the day Jeff died.
I visited the scene of the crime. I'm okay. We're okay. We'll live. I will never forget or enjoy the memory of that day but it can't hurt me more than it already has.
6 comments:
Congratulations on conquering that demon! I know how powerful the place where he died can be and I'm so proud of you for taking your power back!
Great post. And I look forward to seeing you this summer! Send me your phone number when you get organized. We'll be around all of July.
Sending you a quick hug from MN.
Congratulations!! I will hold your post as a reminder that when I see anyone doing what seems to be a normal thing, it might actually be that they are conquering their own challenges. Again, congratulations.
You amaze me with your strength, Jackie. EVERY SINGLE TIME...XXxx.
What an amazing move you made!!! So proud of you" hugs
Jackie- I have "lurked" on your blog for many months now. I have never commented, I almost never do on any of the 'grief' blogs I read as I feel it might be too intrusive. I just had to say today, what a wonderful blog this is. I find myself cheering you on, from all the way in NYC, a complete stranger. Your wit, and honesty, and strength have truly helped me. I lost my (early 30's) sister very suddenly in February, 2009 and have thus sought out blogs of other grieving souls. Though I know the losses cannot be compared, I wanted you to know how much your writing has meant to me. Thank you!
-Sarah
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