closure.

With some good advice and a lot of consideration, I have decided not to go to the funeral. I'm not sure if it is the "right" decision. I actually still have about an hour or two to change my mind, I guess. I just thought I'd babble to the world wide web about my thought process on this one.

Seven years ago... I was at Outlaw Ranch in the black hills of South Dakota. It was staff training and the summer had not yet begun, when I received the phone call from my brother telling me that Marie had died. Marie Uttech was a second mom to me. Her sons were about the same age as my brothers and I spent my childhood on their heels just trying to keep up playing with the boys. She had bandaged more than a few wounds and played and cooked and loved me as if I were a daughter to her. We had our "hug of the day"... and in my memory, I thought I must have gotten a Marie hug every day. I was heavy laden with the news of her death. Yet, I was not able to return for the funeral. Months had passed. I was driving through the smoky mountains with my brother on my way towards my new adventure in South Carolina when I realized that I was still grieving the loss. It had seemed completely unreal to me. There was a part of me that could just ignore that news from the end of May and expect to get my hug of the day the next time I was in Wisconsin.

November... I was in a hotel in Chattanooga, TN during our job fair for the new Earth Fare. It was late when mom called and I just knew it was bad news. I was extremely short with her. I didn't want to hear the small talk, just get to the point. Grandpa had fallen, hit his head, took a turn for the worst, and was going to die. Sitting up with my grandpa as he lived his last hours. Holding his hand as he took his last breaths. Being a witness to death. This was a new different experience for me. There was no denial. There was no ignoring it.

Closure is a funny thing. It always comes in different packages. Ted's death is peculiar. He was young and healthy. I have spoken on the phone to him three times in the past few months, but prior to that, we hadn't spoken in years. One of the phone conversations was terrible. I had yelled at him, called him irresponsible. I told him that he was selfish and made it very clear just how badly he had hurt me. I wanted to hurt him with my words. It had been years, but somehow the pain of how our relationship had ended was right there at the surface. I feel very fortunate that this was not the phone conversation I have to remember as the last time I ever spoke to him. The last time I talked to him, I was driving to South Carolina after losing my job. It was a good conversation, oddly healing in many ways. And it gave some closure to the loss I had experienced four years ago. Now... now I deal with a different loss.

There is no way to explain why his death is so emotionally confusing for me. There is pain, anger, irony, shock, and so many other emotions that keep springing up from nowhere. I don't think I can get any sense of closure by attending his funeral. Seeing his parents, his brother, his friends... seeing his wife. Wife... the woman who called to inform me of his death. I do not wish to cause more grief for a grieving widow, but I also do not wish for that grieving widow to offer support for my grief.

So, no... I will not be attending the funeral tomorrow. I will go to his grave on my own at some point, and I will find my closure. Is it the right decision? I think its the right decision for me.