Grieving Caleb

Grieving is a terribly confusing thing. I don't know why this is coming up a year and a half later but it is along with all this other stuff. My feelings are so jumbled I don't know where to start. One thing I know is that I have a lot of unresolved anger towards "the system". Which kind of sucks because the system is a nameless, faceless thing that has no emotion and certainly no remorse.
For nine years of our lives with Caleb the system was there for us with Caleb, we are honestly so lucky how we live in a province that has so much support for those with a disability or a disabled child. But I was not prepared for how we would get treated once Caleb was no longer with us. It was like a band aid getting ripped off in one stroke, taking the hair and scab with it. I was nice to have those agencies to support us, the thing about support though is that when you have somebody rely on it the removal needs to be gradual. Sarah and I have talked about how we felt like Caleb looked after our family and I think that this is why we felt like that.
This last week Sarah brought home Caleb's wheel chair and had it in our living room. She never told me that she did this and I came home from work and there is was, it actually scared me to the point of having a small anxiety attack. I was stunned for a short amount of time and asked her why. Honestly I was angry, not so much at Sarah from bringing it home but for the rush of emotions and memories that flooded in. The kids see it like a toy and they have all taken turns sitting in Caleb's chair, it scares me to see them in the chair, especially if they sit still like Caleb did.

Where have I been?

Good question, I don't know myself. Currently I find myself in a crisis of faith and I don't know what to do about it. I don't know exactly what has changed, I know there are issues that I have relating to Caleb's death that I have not dealt with but the more I search myself the more I find ugliness in my life that I really don't want to deal with. I'm tired.
One of reason things have come to a head verus staying hidden in the recesses of my mind have to do with taking on the task of leadership in our church. For most of my adult life I wanted somebody to have faith in me, to trust me in a leadership role. I am more than willing to admit that I had some very ugly motives that even I didn't recognize at the time but thankfully I had good leaders that saw through my facade and encouraged me to grow more before taking on that responsibility. Then I finally got to a place in life where I really didn't care anymore about leadership and realized the responsibility and spiritual maturity it required. And it was then that I was asked to lead a small group with Sarah. Well I have done my best at putting on the strong leader face these last couple months, and now I find my brittle mask crumbling before me. All of a sudden I feel bare, because all of my covering up has pushed my problems to the surface. Not unlike the plumber who keeps patching the water line each time it leaks, before long there is no longer a pipe, only a bunch of patches in a row that will eventually fail and flood.
Am I depressed? Well I guess so, I have gotten hear by my own decisions. I am obviously going to be stepping back from leadership, Sarah has decided that she has enough fuel in the tank to lead herself.
I don't want this to sound like a pity party for myself, I am just standing back and looking at my life and being honest with myself. There is much more that will eventually come out, just can't find the words.