Conversion Therapy

It is now 2 days shy of a month since she’s been gone.  28 days. Elements of life are starting to fall back into place.  Work is more or less on schedule.  I get up and go to bed at reasonable times.  I have not started making dinner or doing dishes.  My S.O. (protector? companion?) works those details out for me.

It’s the permutation to a new normal.   A tiring process.

The daunting task of this reformation project I have going on is working grief into peace.  They are adjacent emotions; They work in accord.  Peace is the more mature and worldly older cousin to grief.  Grief is the primal mess of emotion that wells up uncontrollably.  Peace is the delicate flow that has lived the other side and emerges with fabulous skin and hair.  Grief is Ouizer and Peace is Clariee.

When I was small, I hated marshmallows.  I still do. But one of my friends showed me a trick where you pull and pull and pull on a marshmallow until it turns into taffy.  I can get on board with some taffy.   Peace is taffy adjacent.

I’ve walked into her room a couple of times.  Droplets of peace form.

I’ve gone to group therapy (twice!).  Another spot of peace emerges.

This process is arduous. I suppose it’s not unlike trying to change the color of swimming pool water with grocery-store food coloring droppers.  Eventually the change will come.

I’ve only really ever consistently prayed for one thing – peace.  Peace for my children, peace for myself.  Peace to calm the turmoil around those that I love.  Peace to usher in whatever strength we need.  It will always be the constant prayer of my life.

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