So a couple of weeks ago I went back to Church. Now, to some of you, that may not seem like a big deal. However, in this particular case . . . it actually was a big deal. I have not been back to the Church that my mother’s funeral service was in since she passed away. Nevermind the fact that I don’t regularly go to Church. At all.
This is how it went . . . after parking the car, I just sat there. All I could do to prevent myself from leaving was to sit in my car and breath. Finally, when I realized that mass was about to start, I got out of my car and walked towards the church. As I looked up at the stairs leading to the Church, all I could see were flashbacks of walking down those stairs after my mother’s service. To be honest, all I wanted to do was leave. I didn’t want to go. Deep breaths. I continued with my deep breaths. I walked up the stairs, took one last breath and walked in the doors. At that time, the Church was still a little quiet. I picked a pew towards the back and just sat down. Slowly, my nerves started to settle. Slowly, I started to feel more comfortable. Church started.
The mass itself was easy . . . it’s like riding a bike. There are just some things you don’t forget after doing them over and over again. But, what was different was that for the first time in a long while, I felt warm and comfortable in the church. I felt like I belonged. It started to feel good that I was there and got past the “when I was here last” syndrome.
When I left, I felt lighter, I felt good. I felt that this was just another step towards letting go of my mother. Of course I’ll always know that the Church is where the funeral service took place. But, that doesn’t have to stop me from going there or make me sad. It doesn’t have to cause fear. I don’t have to avoid it. There have been many things and places that I didn’t do or go because of the connection those things and places have to my mother. But, as each day passes, I realize I cannot live in fear. I cannot avoid places just because it is somehow associated with my mother. She wouldn’t want me to live in fear or avoid places we used to go to together.
Clearly she wouldn’t want me to avoid the church especially given that it’s a venue where I may be getting married. Where she left off . . . I will pick up and continue. For that is the legacy of mother to daughter . . . Daughter to wife. And, hopefully, someday, wife to mother.
This is how it went . . . after parking the car, I just sat there. All I could do to prevent myself from leaving was to sit in my car and breath. Finally, when I realized that mass was about to start, I got out of my car and walked towards the church. As I looked up at the stairs leading to the Church, all I could see were flashbacks of walking down those stairs after my mother’s service. To be honest, all I wanted to do was leave. I didn’t want to go. Deep breaths. I continued with my deep breaths. I walked up the stairs, took one last breath and walked in the doors. At that time, the Church was still a little quiet. I picked a pew towards the back and just sat down. Slowly, my nerves started to settle. Slowly, I started to feel more comfortable. Church started.
The mass itself was easy . . . it’s like riding a bike. There are just some things you don’t forget after doing them over and over again. But, what was different was that for the first time in a long while, I felt warm and comfortable in the church. I felt like I belonged. It started to feel good that I was there and got past the “when I was here last” syndrome.
When I left, I felt lighter, I felt good. I felt that this was just another step towards letting go of my mother. Of course I’ll always know that the Church is where the funeral service took place. But, that doesn’t have to stop me from going there or make me sad. It doesn’t have to cause fear. I don’t have to avoid it. There have been many things and places that I didn’t do or go because of the connection those things and places have to my mother. But, as each day passes, I realize I cannot live in fear. I cannot avoid places just because it is somehow associated with my mother. She wouldn’t want me to live in fear or avoid places we used to go to together.
Clearly she wouldn’t want me to avoid the church especially given that it’s a venue where I may be getting married. Where she left off . . . I will pick up and continue. For that is the legacy of mother to daughter . . . Daughter to wife. And, hopefully, someday, wife to mother.
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