It's been a tricky week, grief wise.
The Freedom of the Borough Parade was great, and although I (literally) cried all the way through the parading on, sniffled through the speeches, and then clapped and cried all the way through the parading off, it was enjoyable. It was a release. More and more, having nowhere to go for Rich is becoming a problem. Soon it will be the anniversary again, and there is nowhere to go. Part of me wonders if Ian had any idea what difficulties he was laying in store for the Adorable Child when he chose to do what he did, and prevent us from having somewhere to visit, but then I know he didn't because he was grieving too, and he made his choices from the selfishness that grief brings. The fact I can't let it go yet (almost 7 years on) tells me that one day I will have to deal with him. Not yet though.
It's also been the AC's birthday. He is 13 now, (which means BG must be 15 and nearly old enough!) but his 13yr old self is racked with self doubt and worry. This is a perfectly normal state for a teenager, I appreciate, but this teen is mine, and so I support him and love him and tell him the right words (or what I think are the right words) and he pulls himself together and is strong and brave and smiling. He worries about dying. He knows that he can walk out the door and not walked back in, or that one of us will do that. I can't say "Oh that won't happen!" because it has. That reality has been a part of his life since he was 6 and there is nothing that can erase that.
The thing about grief is that it lurks around the corners, waiting for us. There are moments when I can expect it, like the Parade. There are moments when I don't expect it, like the AC's BBQ last night. It's a sneaky thing.
On the other hand, it is a bright and beautiful day. The world looks lovely, although the patio looks a mess. We will get there, wherever there is, and itwillallbefine.
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