So I bought Marianne Williamson’s new book called A Course In Weight Loss. I’d like to lose some weight, mostly because my knees hurt more than I’d like to admit and the only thing I can think to do is take some of the weight off of them. I completely buy into the idea that our emotional and spiritual issues manifest in physical symptoms. So I believe that taking a spiritual approach to my extra weight would be far more beneficial (and cheaper) then say joining Weight Watchers (which I’ve also considered).
I got the book in the mail before we went to Disney World and read the first few chapters. My intention was to begin the 21 lessons as soon as we got home. As of today, I can’t bring myself to start it. The problem is with the first lesson. The gist of that lesson is to take down the protective wall we have built around ourselves. Our extra weight and emotional eating problems stem from holding on to this emotional baggage.
I asked myself what it is I’m holding onto after reading that chapter. What is hurting me? Who or what am I angry about? Over the past few days something has been bubbling up. It’s Amy.
It’s been over a year now. I openly grieved for a reasonable amount of time and then I filed it away. It’s in a drawer called “Lost Soulmates” way back in the recesses of my mind. I flipped this switch that seemed to make it impossible for me to grieve for anything at all. When my grandmother died, I shed a few tears for my sweet mother and cousin because watching their grief broke my heart, but inside, I couldn’t feel my own.
Amy’s death was the most unfathomable thing that could have ever happened to me. We were supposed to watch each other’s kids grow up and maybe move into a retirement community together when we were 85. She was so ALIVE. If I went back through my cell phone voice mailbox, I’m sure I’d hear the message Kristin left telling me about the birth of the twins. She had a beautiful house with a nursery she’d decorated in a froggie theme for her little boys. I made the trays of food for her baby shower and carefully moved all the gifts into the nursery. In the last month of her life she lent me an ear and reassured me when I was going through a tough time.
A wonderful, sweet woman is with Amy’s husband now. She is the mommy those little boys (who are now 14 mos old) know. We are friends on Facebook. I am happy to have a window into the boys’ lives but sometimes it hurts so much to look through it.
I’m not sure if it’s the holiday season or trying to address that darn wall, but I miss her so freakin bad right now. It’s just not fair. It was too early for her to go…