I am pissed. I am angry at my Goddess. I am angry at myself. I blame myself. I know the psychology of grief. And yes, I am in the anger phase.
But it’s more than that, and I have a confession. The night before her death, I prayed. I told the Goddess that She had too much faith in us, and we could not keep doing what we were doing. Little did I realize how She would choose to answer that prayer.
So I rage, and I doubt, and I question Her existence. How could She take my Barbara, and leave me here? If She exists, She knows I would never have wanted this. Yes, Barbara was exhausted, and could go on no longer. But She could just as easily have cured Barbara in answer to that prayer.
So, yes, anger. But also … the long dark night of the soul.