I’ve been thinking a lot about Steven’s mom and the time spent in the hospital preceding her death. Honestly, my mind is quite jumbled right now. If you’ve talked to me in person lately, you may have noticed I am even more scatter-brained, random and babbly* than usual. Heck, you’ve probably noticed it on here!

I probably won’t share many of my thoughts, out of respect, but I did want you guys to know that there is still a lot on my mind, and while I am posting some light-hearted stuff here, that doesn’t always reflect how I am truly feeling. It’s just me trying to create a distraction for myself. So thanks for participating!

With that being said, one thing I do want to write about is how I tried to avoid crying throughout all of this, and how it bit me in the butt.

I arrived at the hospital in Kansas City on a Friday night (8/27) and was there until the following Saturday (9/4). I don’t want to go in to the details, but it was a roller coaster of emotions being there, hoping for the best, having doctors telling you to expect the worst, but then seeing Linda looking so peaceful, and so on. It was exhausting.

The whole time I was there, for some reason, I didn’t want anyone to see me cry. I don’t know. Did I want to be strong for the family? Does that even make sense? Maybe in a sleep-deprived, extremely sad head it does. Mind thinks if someone else looks sad or is crying, I should hold it together.

I remember I broke down in tears for the first time that Thursday, as I called my dad, then Erin. I couldn’t keep it together anymore. I went in to the lobby where I could cry by myself and let it out on the phone. Then I held it in again. Until that Saturday night when we got home, and I couldn’t sleep because I was hysterically sobbing. I called my sister that time (it was late!).

I will never be able to express how much I appreciate their support as I was letting it all out.

It happened again on Sunday a bit when I was talking to Erin again. Then again the next Monday when I was with my sister, aunt and grandma, and couldn’t make a decision about leaving my home town or driving back to Illinois. At this point, I was kind of an emotional wreck.  Little things were setting me off (obviously).

Then I got it back together to head back to work and told myself, “Enough! Pull yourself together!” But why did I feel like I had to tell myself that?

So, it wasn’t until this Saturday at the service, when Linda’s cousin and her husband were playing a beautiful piano/guitar version again of “All You Need Is Love,” that the water works started a bit again. How does music do that?! How does music make us feel so emotional?

As I listened to the Beatles song, I sat there thinking about how much fun we had had with Steven’s family playing Beatles Rock Band this past holiday season. Everyone was resistant to play at first, but once we started, they really got in to it. We probably played for a good hour or two, each of us taking turns at the instruments. I remember Linda particularly liked the guitar and singing. I remember having an absolute blast. I felt sad at the funeral we would not be able to do that again.

Jeez, think we have enough house plants?!

Oh look, a video of my awful singing!

But I’m really happy I have that memory.

So, I say not trying to cry bit me in the butt because when I did, I just felt so deeply sad and the tears were (sometimes) somewhat out of control. And made me feel worse. I am sure there will be more to come, as certain feelings or memories arise.

Has anyone else ever tried to hold back tears? Why do you think you did?

Thanks for reading!

*My made up adjective for “babbling” and “babble.”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_You_Need_Is_Love