The inevitability of where this journey with my husband is headed rears up and confronts me from time to time. It has done that recently and in ways over which I have no control, no answers that will help, nothing to do or say. When this happens I go through the anger and the bargaining with the inevitable. I stare into the future with the intensity of a blind woman straining to see the path ahead. The thought occurs to me that I am one of thousands around this world grappling with the reality of loss. For some it comes quickly, for others slowly with long periods of time to wait out the ending. The idea that I am not alone should bring me comfort. At times it does bring me comfort.

I remember when I was pregnant with my first child and I was scared to death. I could not imagine anything the size of a baby coming out of my body. I would calm down as I thought that all of us got here in that same manner and all of those women had birthed all those babies so I was going to be o.k. Yet, I was frightened and looking for an escape. I smile as I think of it now. I was only 18 and I continually faced down the realization that a baby was growing in me and it had to get out in one form or the other and none of them were appealing to me. But that was birth and a beginning. This acceptance of oneness with thousands of others is one of loss and an ending.

I write so lovely about this topic. Inside I am screaming a primal scream and I am pissed off. I am angry. I want to break something, beat up someone, create havoc and mayhem. I want to run for miles and miles to escape the truth. I want to become hardened and cold. I want someone to fix this thing and I want them to fix it right this minute. NOW! I am intimately familiar with this inner scream. The silent scream that goes on and on and on until it ceases to soothe me and only the truth will heal me is an old friend of mine. Always this crushing anger and rage filled scream lead me to the humility of acceptance. I may not do it pretty and I may yet struggle against it but in the final result I surrender to the truth.

My mother tells me I fought sleep as a baby. I went to sleep standing up rather than lying down to go to sleep. I cried and cried until I accepted that I was going to bed and going to go to sleep and that was the only truth. My daughter fought sleep and she had to move through her own struggles and give in to the truth that I was a power greater than herself. Now I am resisting acceptance and reality once again and I find myself crying and screaming in silence against a truth greater than myself.

Writing this post I understand that I have not fully come to a place of quiet acceptance. My inner battle has not yet been subdued. The truth is that subdued or not subdued this journey is continuing with or without my acceptance. The sooner I put down my pride, angst, dreams, hopes, fears, all of my demands and protests, I will find peace. Finding that peace frightens me today. It seems that finding that peace is abandoning the fight. That is my truth today. I know that will change and evolve. I know that what is....is! But I think I have a scream or two left in my system before I move on. I am backed into a corner and surrounded by the truth. This is a painful place to stand. I won't win this battle. Not in the traditional way. I will be conquered. But not today.