Last night we celebrated the life of G. and proclaimed Resurrection.

I'm finding that in times of crisis, I can be that steady presence, that I can remain calm and clear-headed and listen to the pain that people are able to express (or not). I can hold it in--I can do what needs to be done and not fall to pieces when there is comforting to do.

But...(you knew there was a 'but') My release valve engages just a tad premature. Last night it was after I had walked the widow back down the aisle with her daughters and assorted other family members, and had made sure she was securely encircled by them in a sort of spontaneous private "family hug."

I went to the small ante-room to take off my robe and put my jacket back on, and as soon as I got out of the robe, I fell apart. Grief that had been building up since I got that horrific phone call from a parishioner on Friday morning came flooding up through my chest, vibrating my whole body--it seemed to originate somewhere in the area of my solar plexis (a place I have rediscovered through yoga). It came out through my face, of course, in the form of what is called "The Ugly Cry."

Had I a private place to just go and cry, I would have. But this was not in the relatively safe confines of the church. This was in the Chapel building of a large memorial park--it is a very public building. And...I had to go up through the exiting crowd to get to my purse and my papers, which were still up on the lecturn.

I tried to get some modicum of composure, dried my face with my hands as best I could, and started through. I caught they eye of some of the parishioners from St Stoic, and I clearly saw distress on their faces when they realized that I had been bawling. Not gently, and reservedly weeping in the dignified way we do things at St. Stoic; ugly, racking sobs. The kind that you just can't cover up with a little powder and lipstick. (Which I didn't have access to, by the way, because my purse was by the lecturn.)

I don't know what the aggregate effect on those folks will be of seeing the person who is 'supposed' to have her act together so exposed and raw. I hope it can be seen as a moment of authenticity, and not of weakness.

And I hope I can get through the week without mind-f**king this to death...