Symbolically, I brought out the heavy artillery as I negotiated today, August 15. For the first month after Eric died, I blasted Beethoven's 9th Symphony choral finale - Ode to Joy - literally every morning, before I could drag my ass out of bed. It shook the house. Some mornings I needed it only once; others, I played it until I thought the neighbors might call the cops. That was the only thing that could jump start the heart that seemed to have stopped beating; to drag me out of bed, to face the day. To put the right foot in front of the left, vice versa, and repeat.
Goundhog Day everyday. Pure, pure hell.
I no longer need Beethoven. I haven't "needed" him for five months. To show my special appreciation, I gave Beethoven a slot today. Beethoven shook my house with Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Handel, and other boys who wore funny wigs.
I didn't want to give today's "6-month anniversary" any more significance than what it is, but the body is conditioned to remember and react to trauma on certain days, under certain circumstances. Is it what this is? Trauma? Whatever it is, I refuse the label "tragedy."
I decided today shall be a victorious day - the most Victorious of them all - because I declare it so. Because I need to continue my progress, NO-MATTER-WHAT. No matter how tiny of a step. However minute of progress. No matter how unwilling. How difficult.
Today's victoriousness is about being slightly more familiar in negotiating my grief than last week; last month; last 15th.
Today's victoriousness is about remembering everyone and everything with only loving thoughts. It is about embracing grief, not resisting, with inclusiveness. Joy in spite of sorrow. Progress in spite of fear.
September 15 will not get easier, but it will be more familiar.
And I shall remain, more Victorious than ever.
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