Dear Nathan,

So much for the so-called five stages of grief, because I’m right back at anger today. That’s right: I’m mad at you. I’m mad at you for dying. I’m mad at you for not being here today when I need you. I’m mad at you for being gone.

I cry angry tears, and then they turn into sad tears, and then I feel bad for being mad at you. Then, I cry some more because I think I have a right to be angry. Then, I feel embarrassed for crying off my makeup, because someone will surely notice my bleary eyes, which will make me cry even more when they ask how I’m doing.

Today is one of those days when the enemy tries to tell me that I’m a failure, and nothing I do matters. When the principal calls with her trying-to-be-nice-to-the-poor-ragged-mother voice and tells me that she knows we have a lot going on in our lives, I want to scream at her. Not because it isn’t true, but because it is true. I don’t want to be patronized because I’m raising five kids and my husband is away doing Army stuff. I don’t want pity. I want to prove them all wrong and make them take back their pity.

Is defiance a stage of grief? If not, then it should be.

I don’t want someone’s understanding of my tough circumstances. I want to raise five godly young men who are productive members of society. I want people to look at our family and see God’s hand at work. But first, we have to get to the part where they are grown up and move past the part where they throw pencil boxes and lunch bags and get sent to the principal.

Right now, though, I just want to cry. I want to sulk and be angry.