Vegas

There is no right way to mourn.   

During the first six weeks after Molly's death, I spent a lot of time with family and friends; I stayed in the Hamptons and walked for miles on a deserted beach; I let people come visit and take me out to lunch.  And I went to Vegas.

Yes, Vegas.  Frances had been planning for months to play poker in a tournament and one of the first decisions she had to make after Molly's death was whether or not to play.  Her decision process went something along the lines of, "I can stay home and be miserable and lonely, or I can go out and do something and attempt to get back on my two feet."  She chose the latter with my complete support.

So my choices were.....  stay home by myself (NOT a good plan); ask her to stay home (which she would have done, but why?  So that we could both be miserable?); or go with her.  I chose to go with her.

For me, the trip was healing in a really weird way.   I slept for the first time since Molly's death, I spent tons of time alone in  whirlpools and saunas reliving everything I knew about Molly.  I journaled; I had some great meals.  There was even some laughter with friends who joined us.  I still remember the laughter; it felt so right and it felt like Molly was right there laughing with us. 

There were tears too.  There will always be tears.  

Indigo Girls have a song with a line that just keeps replaying through my brain, "We're better off for all that we let in.".  It's true.  I don't want to mourn on someone else's schedule or according to someone else's belief system.   Part of this whole experience  has been staying open to experiences and people and letting them in to my life.  I have been enriched every time.    (http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/indigogirls/allthatweletin.html)