I was taken by surprise yesterday when I just wanted to cry. You see, another loved one has left suddenly. This time it was my aunt Monique who passed away. I had an opportunity to come to Montreal and spend time with my dad before we attended her funeral yesterday.
For the past few tragedies that I have encountered in this new year, I have always manage to be strong for those I love, lending them my strength and giving them my support. I assumed I was going to be able to do the same for my cousin Julie who has lost a mother. My assumption could not be further from the truth.
Instead, as soon as I started speaking to my cousin, my voice started cracking and tears began to flow. I hugged her hard and did not say the usual things many will say when meeting with the bereaved, such as: "I am so sorry for your loss". Instead, I told her in my watery voice that I was just glad to be there.
Simple truth. I am glad to have been there. Despite it being painful and awkward amongst mostly strangers, I was glad to just be there. To see cousins I have not seen in years. To just by my presence, show my love and support, nothing more.
Thankfully I did not have to give more because like I said, I was longer able to be strong.
I just crumbled.
Normally after an emotional encounter, like the one I had with my cousin, I just pull myself together to be able to function for the rest of that difficult time. This time, I just stood there, awkwardly trying to look at ease in my corner, while everyone was chatting away and catching up. I could not join in. I could not pull myself together. I certainly could not shake the feeling of sadness that overcame me.
I called my husband and for a few seconds was trying to contain my emotions, like I normally do in these circumstances. However, he knew, just by the sound of my voice and asked sincerely if I was okay. I just answered no and cried. He knows me. He knows I hate crying in front of those I am not at ease with. He knows I hate crying, period. Hearing his voice comforted me and after my brief call, I thought I could go back in and do like everyone else.
I didn't. I found a quiet seat in a room full of people all talking and sat there swallowing the lump in my throat and the tears threatening to spill. The dam of emotions I contained so long out of necessity was cracked and spilling. I was trying to contain it, like trying to cover the cracks of a dam with chewing gum.
My father seeing how upset I was, took me away from the funeral home and I took a breather. The sadness did not leave but at least it was a small reprieve. We returned to the funeral home for the prayers and eulogy.
We joined the aunts and uncles for a later supper after the service. It was nice to see how much all of us have grown up. Therein lies the blessings, we have all been blessed with people who love us; our own children, our spouses, siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, parents, grandparents and friends. These moments of tragedy and sadness only highlight these blessings. They are there to remind of us what is good around us.
The good I took away from yesterday is that my aunt gave me what no other loss has been able to give me recently, a chance to release my tears and just simply grieve. I can't stay strong forever. That is what the creator is there for.