I'm drained

Remember that feeling you used to get...after a boy (or girl) broke up with you?
Think back to high school.
College.

The drama!! 
The end of the world!
You'd sit and cry for hours.  Maybe days. 
Until one of your wonderful friends finally shook you of pity party. 

That's how I feel today.  Drained. 
No energy for even a run.
Just wine and cookies. 

Today I relived Nic's entire funeral.  It was like a car crash, happening in slow motion in front of me.  I couldn't stop it.  I couldn't escape it.  I just had to sit through it.

Nic's grandma passed away last Friday.  And while the reality of the event is very sad, she had a great life.  If you are going to die - this is the way to die.  Basically of old age, at 89, laying next to her husband of 69 years.  Not a bad gig. G'ma has been feisty the entire time I've known her, and I hear she always has been.  G'ma knew what she wanted and often found a way to get it.  And I adopted her when Nic and I started dating, because all of my grandparents had already passed away. 

So, while I didn't want to make today be about Nic...how could it not be? And my heart aches for Grandpa because while I am lost without Nicolas....we had only been together 7 years.  Grandpa and Grandma had been married 69 and I don't know how long they dated before that.  If my soul is wandering around, lost without Nicolas....what is Grandpa's soul doing?  I felt that...I could feel that...that feeling of emptiness.  Like a shell, going through the motions, watching everyone else.  Watching people cry and be sad and not reacting.  Not crying, not being sad....sad is an emotion...and I remember, at times, not feeling anything.  I saw that look in Grandpa's eyes and I felt it all over again. 

It was my first full Catholic Funeral since Nic's. I've been to a visitation...but not a mass.
And the mass. 
Man, Catholics really can play into your mental state. 
A mass of Christian burial is very ceremonial.  The white cloth.  The incense.  The songs.
blawh.  The songs.  I didn't know I had such horrible feelings toward the song, "Be Not Afraid", but when that song started, every emotion came over me.  Sadness, anger, guilt.  And I let myself get lost in every moment. 

And no good Catholic funeral can escape "Eagle's Wings".  I assumed it would be at the end of mass, like it was at Nic's, and I would walk out of church.  I'd have an excuse to not listen to it.  But it wasn't the case.  Right there, right in the middle of communion.  2 notes and I knew what was happening. I felt the shaking start.  That same feeling.  I closed my eyes and saw Nic's casket.  I saw the flag.  I saw those horrible, horrible people wheeling him to the hearse.  I saw him, laying in the casket.  I felt myself wanting to leap out of my boots and throw myself on his casket and scream.  To push everyone away.  To make everyone go away and to just have it be me and Nicolas all over again. 

One song.
Two notes.
Did you know that a song could carry that much emotion?

And then I felt the warm sun on my back and I felt him.  I felt him wrap his arm around me and tell me to take a deep breath.  And at first I ignored him.  I didn't want to take a deep breath.  A sick part of me was amazed at how vivid the memory was.  A sick part of me was happy that I could really relive that nightmare again.  But I realized Nic was right.  I had to take a deep breath and pull myself out of that memory. 

And eventually, the shaking stopped.  And the breating started.  And the song ended. 
Just like Nic's funeral.  Eventually it was over. 

And like all good Catholic funerals, we gathered in the church hall after and ate, and laughed, and smiled and talked.  And the decision was made, you can quit or you can carry on.  And I carried on.  And Grandpa is carrying on.  Because that is what love wants us to do. 

So, yes, I'm tired.  No.  I didn't run.  Yes, I feel gross and know a run would have helped.  But so did the 4 cookies and the glass of wine.  Because every day is another day, another fight, another survival.  So for just a few minutes, or a day, to let the emotion, the true sorrow, just take over you.  There is something extremely cathartic about that too.