Camping

Tomorrow will be one month since May 27th, the day John left us. I get to learn first hand about grief and loss and I can tell you that it is not like they say in the books and it can not be learned. I have come to find out that if you want to know what grief is like, you have to go through it.
I have heard people describe many experiences of loss in my work and in my friendships and to be honest, I really had no idea. How can you explain what it feels like to be freezing when you have never been cold, or to be drowning in a desert? It's surreal, at best.
In the last two weeks I have had moments of clarity and moving on "ness" where I wake up and the first thought that enters my mind is not, "John's gone. John's dead." but more like "It's morning, where's food? I don't want to get out of this warm bed........... oh yeah, John' gone. John's dead."
I have had periods of time where I am working and I am focused on my task at hand. I am not immersed in sadness. I have a purpose.
My mother went to see a grief counselor who told her that it might not be a good idea for her to come camping with us and the Family Folk Chorale for the weekend. She told her that going away from home so soon after a loss can trigger really intense emotions. We talked about it, she wanted to go. I didn't think anything of it.......... until about an hour in to the drive.
We had gone up for our summer retreat with the folk chorale, a community of friends who have come to be our dearest friends. It was rainy and gross out and I dreaded the whole thing. But the kids were excited and I felt like it would be fun for them. Why not?
Half way through the performance I was crying and at then end Jonah and I had left the stage and were wandering through the strawberry field looking for something that wasnt there.
The thought that came in to my head was that we had left John all alone in the house.
I know this is logically crazy
but this is how I felt.
I kept thinking about that box that my mother had so lovingly decorated with John inside of it. I had picked the box up out of morbid curiousity, how much does a full grown man weigh, when broken down in to ash?
It was surprisingly heavy.
We had to get home.
It was too soon to leave him alone in the house.
We wouldn't have left him alone in the house before so why would we now?
It poured.
I cried.
Jonah got muddy and wild and just like that we were all packed up and headed home.

I couldn't get there fast enough and slept like a baby and when I woke up I heard the birds and thought that John was there
and he was.