Intersections

 I spend my life hearing stories; stories of peoples current lives, past lives, stories of interpretation, of bravery, of happiness, of sadness, despair. What therapists don't talk about as much is how we interweave their stories into our story. 

 I don't want to share my story with my clients as much as acknowledge the interweaving of stories. If I did that and let me assure you, I don't.... makes my story a part of their story. And again, this is their time, not mine. But, what helps not sharing is creative pursuits. Somehow, for me anyway, I have to process and incorporate this intersection into my life.

Here's an intersection story. Most days I wake up and suppress or allow a wish. I wish I was waking up before Andrew died. I wish this day was before, not after. Some days I can't hold the wish, the thought back. So, I make the bed, smoothing the covers and pursing my lips to focus on the sheets, the blankets; making the world smooth. Not holding the feeling of wishing wishing Andrew were still here. And I was in that world where he was. 

It's so sad to say I wish to go back. And really, before this, I didn't want to go back to my past. It's one of the places in this landscape of loss. Wishing, wishing so hard this day isn't real. Wishing to go back to when he was alive however complicated and messy and stressful that life was. I've not had wishing for anything as much, as strong in my whole life. It's really an impossible, irrational wish. I live with the wishing and let it pass through me and then I get on with my day. 

And sometimes, getting on with my day is thinking of all the mothers who lost sons in wars, global wars, wars of addiction, of my clients grieving losses, too. And their loss comforts me. I feel less alone. I think of a story of a client who made their life a tribute to their loss through volunteering, or being kinder or changing their life in a way. One of the ways I often think about Andrew is in his sense of humor. It helps me to think of him laughing at me...he was so funny, so good at laughing at me. It helps me laugh at myself. I like to think one of the ways our family carries Andrew with us is through humor. 

I digress...When my clients grieve in sessions, I can be there too; unafraid of the pain, the loss, the sadness. Big feelings I used to manage a lot sooner in the therapy hour. I hope my clients feel better/ feel comfortable about big feelings. Even though, I can't talk about how I understand. Intersections. I feel better now. Because I realize we don't have to talk about how we understand. We can all just understand; a form of compassion I guess and we can laugh. Because Andrew wants us to...