Take that!!

     Aunt Nellie's funeral was on a Monday.  It was the Monday following the weekend I decided to go through my list and forgive.  It was the Monday after I recalled memories.  I now knew the ugly details of the abuse that I had blocked for most of my life.  I had forgiven and thought I was fine.  I drove alone, listening to music and talking to God.  I had printed a map to the funeral home and to the church and I followed the directions, but when I got where I thought I was supposed to be, there was no funeral home.  I was hungry, it had rained just enough to make it impossible to see through the windshield because of the dirt, my contacts were bothering me, and I started to panic.  Suddenly, I was fully aware of my unfamiliar surroundings.  The car began to make a terrible noise.  I felt Satan himself was in full control of my day.  I couldn't concentrate.  The adult in me who had become responsible for my dad in my own head was afraid to see him in the state of mind I was in.  The little girl in me was afraid to see him, because I might just cry, "Daddy" like I do when I'm upset and crawl right in his lap.  Aunt Nellie's funeral was not the place for my inner child to show up paralyzed with fear.  I was caught between wanting to be locked in the safety of my room at home and wanting to pay my respects and see family.  As I fought panic, I slipped into a numb, almost "in shock" state of mind.
     I called the pastor.  Usually when I called, I left a message or hung up and he would call me back when he saw that I called, but this day, even though he was at work, God had him answer his phone.  I couldn't sort my words or my thoughts.  When he said, "I can look up the address and try to guide you there if you want.  What  do you need me to do for you?", I wanted to say, "Come and get me".  I was afraid I couldn't find my way home.  I needed him to tell me it was okay for me to go home.  When he did, my mind cleared enough to pull into a McDonalds, get myself a little food and a bottle of water to wash the windshield.  I took out my contacts and put on my glasses.  I would be okay in spite of the pictures that were flashing through my mind.
     I had to turn off the music, because it was creating more chaos in my head.  I couldn't seem to see or judge distance.  I would find myself exiting the freeway when I didn't mean to.  I got lost twice on a very easy direct drive home.  I probably shouldn't have been behind the wheel.  I was in shock.  The world around me was a foreign place and things I had seen several times over the years were not familiar.  Even when I finally found myself thirty minutes from home, everything looked different. 
     I pulled in the driveway, shut off the car, and finally let the tears go once I locked the door behind me.  I was overwhelmed with feelings that included regret for not attending the funeral and guilt for taking the day off from work and not doing what I said I was going to do.  I changed into my pajamas, wrapped in a blanket, e-mailed the pastor so he would know I was safe, and then I stared at the wall in silence.  There was that throat gripping pain again.  The feelings were so big that my mind was unable to wrap around it.  I wanted to scream, I wanted to hit somebody, I wanted to sleep and cry, but mostly I wanted the chaos in my head to just be quiet.
     After hours of sitting in my chair trying to breathe, it hit me.  Satan had successfully taken a very important day from me.  I could get angry, I could be sad, or I could take it back.  I got to me knees in my usual praying place and with God's help, I forgave again and again and again, until my heart was completely free.  I promised myself that the abuse was never going to take a whole day from me again.  It might steal a moment here or there, but never a whole day.  Especially such an important day.  I did what I had to do to get through it.  There are still days when I have to forgive multiple times.  Somedays it's not so hard and other days it's like pulling my hair out as I rip duct tape from my skin, but it's always freeing and always worth it. 
     I don't regret missing the funeral only because I know aunt Nellie would have wanted me to work through forgiving like I did.  I had my special day with her before she went and I will see her again.  I remembered the details of what happened to me and I let it go.  I made it through memories I was afraid would kill me.  Not only did I take the day back from Satan, but I slapped him in the face with it.

Jesus loves you!