I do my grieving while I drive. Alone with my thoughts, I don't have the pressures of home with me - tasks to complete, undone chores, visual reminders of my internal chaos. So, in the relative inner quietness of me-in-car-mode, I think. And write letters in my head. And grieve.
It took me a long while to realize that I would often do this about five minutes away from my destination. Highly illogical, as it has me arriving blotchy faced and teary eyed. Incidentally, I HATE crying in public. Or in front of anyone, even my closest friends and family.
But I finally figured out why my heart picked this timing: five minute installments were perfect for me, apparently. My heart knew what I could handle. I am rather in awe of this intelligence (I never would have been smart enough to plan mini-grief sessions) but I'm slowly discovering that my heart and body know exactly what they are up to. And I am learning that it feels good to listen.
