Soul Widows Spiritual Retreat ~ Seven ~ Saturday ~ My Private Talk

i worked hard and with purpose on my journal cover. i felt a push inside me as i always do when i get to work. i admit i was quiet for some time as it fell into place for me but then i was more present with the other women. it is just that, well, it is a journal i fully intend to use and i wanted it to speak to that weekend, and him, and how i felt about it all. but mostly i wanted it to speak about him.
i put the old flag on it and the full moon. i also put a photo of star trails and then i found a castle. dragons like castles and just because you cannot see them does not mean they are not there. i put a photo of a rainbow over a waterfall in Hawaii. paradise on earth. i told them that i wanted this book to show that there was nothing he was afraid of. there was nothing he could not do.

he just could not stay.

we took a break in our art therapy to go shopping. well, the other women went shopping but i got to have a private conversation with our Fiery Fairy. i hope she knows how grateful i was.

time has always been a problem for me. at the old group, i had a literal 1 or 2 minutes. wtih the nun grief counselor at the Church, i had 55 minutes but she controlled the talk. she asked questions and i had to answer. she wanted to talk about ancient history. i wanted to talk about my Dragon. then i had the free therapy for 2 sessions. i got to talk but she did not see my anxiety. bless her heart, she was so overloaded with work. i could not add to her stress.

i know. i know. i am stressed, too, but her telling me i am doing very well in spite of my isolation and in spite of my financial duress, well, i knew her heart was not in it. and i need someone who sees something in me worth saving.

we went on a couple of errands for her and the sky was beautiful. while she got gas for her car, i stepped to the curb and took a breath. and took a photograph.

we went to a store for her to pick something up. i have not been in such a fancy store since my Dragon died. 21 months. i lightly touched scarves and blouses. i touched a nightgown that had embroidery on the yoke. so lovely. the store was in an old building and it had old wood floors. the sun was pouring in. i glanced around. no one was looking. i took this photograph. it seemed a metaphor for an open door before me and stepping out into the light, out of the cramped confines of my little apartment. it may never actually happen for me, but i have this photograph now that i can turn to and dream. sometimes all we need to keep are our dreams.
i talked. i told her one thing i have only told one other person. my Dragon. but this weekend was like flash paper. here and gone. i felt i had only one chance for someone else on this planet to know one of the terrible things that had happened to me to make me like i am. my Dragon, the one i had trusted with this story was not gone. i have been alone with it again. i am not alone with it anymore. the Fiery Fairy knows.
having someone know something about you that you never talk about but affects you every moment of every day is important. i told our grief counselor about something that happened to me when i was a little girl. a long, long time ago. a long, long time to carry this alone. my Dragon knew and he wept. he held me and it felt good that someone finally knew this. when i told our Fiery Fairy she was upset for me. i do not know really what she thought of it since i did sort of dance over it, but i think she was horrified. i kinda hope so. i needed someone else to know this. i had kept it to myself for 40 years. then for 8 years i had my Dragon to hold me. i do not regret telling her. i do regret that i danced on it though. it really is more important to me than that. it changed who i was. but at least there is one other person in the world who knows. i am not alone.

i had walked out onto the porch alone for a moment. this wreath of tin stars caught my eye. it is weathered and beautiful. it made me smile. after a day of revealing one of my two darkest secrets, i had to take a moment to be outside where the world is old and time passes with care. the star wreath grounded me back to the porch. it is whimsical. i need whimsy in my life. it is my daily therapy. Bunny and her moods and her way of speaking in third person. distance. whimsy creates distance for me from the pain.

hey, some people drink themselves into a stupor. whimsy, i.e. Bunny, is not a bad vice to have.