A Healing Journey - Part I

Over the last several weeks, I've wondered if it would ever stop raining.
We've experienced a few dry days interspersed with biblical downpours. The hope is these rains will taper off and we'll return to standard weather patterns.
Nearly two months ago – near the beginning of this damp spell – I set off on a journey, driven to find a relief similar to the one we seek for these recent rainy conditions.
For many years, I've struggled to find a way out from under a blanket of memories and patterns left over from my interaction with my deceased parents. To this day, I find myself twisting and shifting to remove myself from a straitjacket of old patterns and habits constructed for relationships which ended – for this lifetime – at a community cemetery in Alabama.
I haven't been sure this cloud would ever lift.
As the 11th anniversary of my mother's death approached, I realized something a few weeks before the day arrived – this year's anniversary would fall exactly on the date and day of the week she died.
Instead of taking the time to grieve, I chose instead to dive headlong into the circumstances we faced immediately afterward, deferring actual mourning to an undetermined date and leaving these old habits clinging to me like a leftover dryer sheet.
So, as the calendar rolled toward Sept. 5, I realized doing something on this day would be a good chance to gain some distance from these remnants of a life now gone.
I decided to go to the place where it all should have stopped – the graveside.
As I got ready to leave for the cemetery from Mississippi, I had this sense one of the things I'd be attempting to stare down is the fear of loss, a fear which can cripple someone and prevent even the most calculated risks.
I put on “The Extremist” by Joe Satriani as I confronted cloudy conditions on the first few minutes of the ride. This music – with its sweeping motions from charging and electrifying to simple and emotive – provided a great soundtrack for the first leg of the trip.
As I proceeded, I thought about whether the clouds I'd encountered along the way would ever break, or if would be just as bleak or worse if I'd even make it to the cemetery at all.