One call

So with this grieving thing, I am still learning as I go.
Having lost before, I can say that this loss is so much different.
I heard the quote that said:

"What greater grief can there be for mortals than to see their children dead?"~Joan Didion

I find this true. 
I am not belittling anyone else's grief. I'm just sharing where mine is today. 

So a I received an unexpected call this morning that shattered me and I haven't recovered yet. 
It was Molly's Oncology office. 
At first, I thought the phone call was an error. The lady on the line was asking for someone by the name of Long. I assured her that was not who I was and mentioned the name Little. 
There was my mistake. 
She proceeded to tell me that she had the wrong file open and asked if this was the family of Molly Little. 

What kind of sick joke is this?
I hadn't heard anyone but close family and friends speak her name. Why was this person bringing this up? Did they know she died? Are they confused? Am I?

It's amazing how quickly I became derailed. The phone call only lasted 30 more seconds. They were inviting us to a bereavement retreat for those families that lost their child. 

Ya, right. Last thing I want to do. Drive 8 hours and bring up all my feelings about how awful this has been with total strangers. 
I kindly declined, but before I even hung up I was already crying. I choked out my polite good bye, but I am pretty sure she already knew she had upset me. I honestly don't care. Seems cold, but it's truth. If my grief made her uncomfortable, well, there is really nothing I can do about it. Except perhaps take Molly's name off of their call list. 

I realize that I may come off harsh and mildly cynical, but I have my reasons. 
Grief is such an inconvenience. I wasn't expecting to cry today. I wasn't expecting to be brought back to the day they told me Molly was terminal. I didn't want to re-walk those hallways, smell the antiseptic, feel the tightness in my throat as I held back bawling just so Molly could have a simple check up.
But grief doesn't care what I want today. It shows up uninvited. Sloppy, messy, rude, and intrusive.
I plan on stepping out later and putting a smile on. Others will never know what's going on inside, because honestly, it's awkward.

Grief, you win today. I give into your demands. But only for a little while. Because know this, I don't intend for you to run my life and rule me. But I know that you are necessary and that you have a purpose, so for today, I will embrace you.