"A problem shared is a problem halved..." Kate Stevens

So yesterday, this is what I really wanted to post on my facebook status:

So the 8 year old has a genuine, full blown, crying from his toes, total meltdown on the way to school because "it's like I've lost everything".... I can't fix this and I wonder if he's proud of himself for what he's done to all of us. Yah, I said it. I'm so pissed and pissed at everyone who forgives him, coddles him and treats him like it's okay. It's not okay. You don't abandon your family. Period. Inexcusable.

I typed it.  I stared at it through my tears and pent up frustration.  I was about to hit 'enter' when I thought it was probably a good idea to stop and think about the ramifications of saying something like that out loud to the world. I'm so frustrated with the situation and I love my kids so much, that the statement from Cooper just tipped me over the edge.  I was finally having a moment where I wanted the world to know how bad I feel about this and at that moment, I wanted to hunt him down like a wolf stalking a vampire and rip his cold blooded head off.  How could a father do this to his 8 year old son?  Especially after losing his brother. How could he do this to his 11 year old daughter, who thinks he is the sun and the moon?  How could he do this to me when all I ever did was love him?????   I wanted to kick a hole in the wall.  I wanted to scream at someone, anyone, asking why this happened to us, how this happened to us, why was the world so unfair???  After a moment,  I copied and pasted it into a message, sent it to myself  and posted something about "finally being pissed", instead.

Strangely enough, about an hour later, the ire had dissipated.  Weird.  About an hour after that, I was walking around work feeling, almost, lighter.  Weird.  Like a weight was lifted off of me.  Huh?  How was it possible that I had been so unbelievably irate, (about time in some people's minds, I'm sure), and suddenly didn't feel it any more?

I have said since the onset of this current unpleasantness that I couldn't get mad him.  Getting mad gets you nothing and Griffin's plight taught me that.  I still believe that wholeheartedly.  But I have also realized that in the grieving, you have to get mad to learn to let it go.  That's how I learned it was pointless- I was so mad at God when I finally got my baby home from the hospital after 4 long months, only to hear two days later that he would need a kidney transplant by the age of 2, his brain was full of holes and he would probably not live to be 5.  I was so mad that I refused to talk to God for about a year, not understanding why in the world this horrible, awful, unfair set of conditions were at war with my infant child's body.  It made no sense to me at all.  Honestly, it still doesn't, but I do understand it was what Griffin was given by the universe and I had no control over changing it, only over how to handle it.  When I came to that realization, I understood I was wasting valuable energy (of which I was expending at a great rate) on being angry.  My little guy needed me and that was all that mattered. 

Remembering this, I realized why I felt better and thanked Griffin for reminding me- I finally said it out loud.  I finally let it take hold for a bit and released it to the universe. I was genuinely mad at him. I was finally allowing myself to be mad at him.  My love and affection for him, my protective instincts for the man I married, are finally leaving me. I'm learning to let them go.  Talk about enlightening...I realized, too, that I am finally living the phrase, "let go and let God".  I've only have control over how I respond and my actions to those cards that I am dealt.  I am finding great peace in that knowledge.  Wow.

Being angry and spiteful gets you nowhere.  It eats you from the inside out.  Finding the joy and the happiness in the world around you, the moments you have on this planet with the people you love, is what the focus should be.  Living, loving and smiling as much and as often as you can should be the highest priority.  But reminding yourself you're human now and then, is okay too.

Soooooo, I'm going to give myself a break.... this whole grief thing is pain in the butt because it won't cooperate with me :)

Tiff