Avoiding the Glimmer

Avoidance seems to be the name of the game. My father passed away two weeks ago yesterday and I just don't want to talk about it. Glimmers of pain have rushed through my body as I am reminded of losing my father. Who wants to experience this sadness? Not me, so I ignore the phone calls from certain members of my family, those who stimulate my vulnerability causing an opening for the glimmer to enter. I realize that these loved ones care about my feelings and want to connect with me during this tragic time in our lives, but I can't. This past week I have worked diligently to build a forcefield by which to protect myself. But this field is weak, therefore I must steer clear of people who can penetrate the forcefield allowing the glimmer to enter me.

The glimmer is short and sharp. For a moment I am overcome by a heavy sadness that clutches my heart bringing out tears that I have managed to hide. This glimmer occurs when I think about my father, my relationship with him, and his relationship with my children. It happened today in the midst of gardening. I was superficially aware of my thoughts, remembering things said over the past week regarding my father. This gave the glimmer a back door to slip in and take hold of me. I was grateful my back was to my children and my husband was far enough away to not notice I had been attacked by the glimmer.

I recognize intellectually that some day the glimmer will attack in lesser intervals. Until then I am trying to avoid the glimmer. Honestly, I do not think I will be successful for long.