Now that the service is over and I have a moment to breathe, it’s time to start trying to heal. Ty and I have decided since Day 2 that we are going to need help through this. There is no way I can do this on my own and even with the amazing support system we have, we decide professional help is in order. Grief like this can destroy a family. It can destroy a marriage. I’ve already felt the almost uncontrollable rage. I’ve had to apologize to Ty and to my family for snapping at them. The rage wells up and it seeks an outlet. That outlet can be anyone or anything that happens to be in the room at the time. I’m resentful of people with more than one child. I look at my own brother’s family and how they are whole and how ours has been ripped apart. I’m mad as hell.
I call the first of the grief counselors on my list. She talks with me for 25 minutes. I cry. She lost a husband suddenly. That’s a lot like losing a child. She says things I’m feeling before I can say them. You just want to die, too. She visioned a Star Trek transporter beam taking her to heaven to be with her husband. You don’t want to go on. You don’t know how you’re going to go on.
This is good. This gives me a bit of hope. We schedule an appointment for the week after next when she returns from vacation. Something to look forward to.