I am being pulled like taffy by family obligations, which appear to be conflicting.
After searching for a ticket to Philadelphia for less than $700, I found one. Mind you, a sucky one in which I must sit in a middle seat with my almost two year old on my lap while I endure the stink-eye stares of surrounding passengers for having the audacity to fly with a child, and make a connection in Chicago. But somewhat affordable, considering it is rather last minute and that is the way it goes with funerals.
And I feel like I really should go. Because losing one of our own generation is something that makes me very sad. And well, I guess something I should be there to support my family through.
And this morning, Supergirl, she who was formerly 'okay' with the idea, had a minor breakdown when I told her I may fly next week.
I told her she would have fun - she would have playdates! Maybe a sleepover! FUN! Special time with Daddy!
She cried and said she was afraid I would die like Kim if I went away.
What am I supposed to say?
"No, honey, planes never ever crash and I will always be alive for you."?
No, I can't afford two tickets.
The worst part for me, is that she has tapped into my biggest emotional weakness.
Whenever someone close to me has died in the past, I have gone through serious bouts of anxiety - all related to believing that
The last person I talked with about this, with my grief counselor after Elijah died, divulging my rawest and worst fears, rational or irrational, obsessively anxious or not.....well, um, she died. Yes, suddenly.
I gotta climb my way out of this one.