Haunting Fears

"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear." C. S. Lewis


I am afraid. Afraid of how quickly time is passing. Afraid I will forget the way Brittany's laugh sounded. Afraid I will forget the way her blue eyes sparkled like the ocean. Afraid I will forget the way she twirled her hair when she was tired or upset. Afraid I will never stop crying. Afraid that I will stop crying. And I'm afraid of the past, the present...and mostly the future.

In addition to those fears, there are several specific words that scare me, too and I have fought hard (with much success) not to speak over the past 8 months. And when others say them so effortlessly...so naturally...I cringe. I want to childishly plug my ears and start humming to block out the sound. What are these taboo words? It's probably not hard to guess but for the sake of clarification I'll make an exception...albeit a timid one...and share them with you:

• Funeral/visitation (I simply say "services")
• Buried/burial (it's hard to get around this one but sometimes I'll say "when we took Brittany out there" or "when she moved there")
• Cemetery (I say "where Brittany is" or "where she resides." I don't even like saying the name of the cemetery, although I reluctantly do at times)
• Grave ("location" or "area")
• Headstone/gravestone ("memorial" or "marker"...and I don't even like that)
• Casket (the "thing" she's in)
• Tomb (NEVER say that around me. It's creepy and frightening)

Crazy? Maybe. Juvenile? To some, perhaps. A form of denial? Unlikely since I'm painfully aware of my reality. Denial might be a lot less tormenting, though. Sometimes I wonder if people are aware of my intended avoidance of such rhetoric.

My mind is also constantly haunted with so many other fears, too...all of the predictable "what ifs." What if I wasn't a good mother? What if she never forgave me for some argument we had? What if she would have postponed her trip by one second, one minute, one hour, one day? The most haunting fear of all though? What if she was afraid when the accident was happening? What if she saw the semi heading straight for them? What if she was in pain? What if she cried out for me and I wasn't there to protect her...to comfort her...to hold her and let her know it would be alright? I'm afraid I will forever be persecuted by these fears and never find peace. 

And I'm afraid of the unknown...