Anger has mastered the art of getting in the way, by being first to arrive. It uses the combination shouldn’t and happen, and “not so great” actions of others to produce long lists of complaints and negative feelings, along with the desire to whine. It’s funny that even though physical wounds qualify for the happen list, they’re not there, because the first to arrive is tend to those wounds. But for every other kind of wound I let something incapable of tending arrive; anger – a July 4th sparkler, burning for minutes, but also capable of starting a full blown forest fire. Very angry arrived when I saw my husband for the first time after learning he died. I was furious by the time I grabbed his flannel shirt and twisted it, thinking, how dare you leave me all alone – the deepest wound yet. Thankfully grief knows how to tend, and did so until my anger ignited the “forest fire” wound of living life without him. I don’t see myself as carrying around a sparkly sparkler, but it certainly wins more races than a band-aid in coming to my aid. Why is it so easy to forget I have a choice?
A Widow's Walk 