loss.. and life after

 Sometimes I miss you so much it steals my breath. It makes my heart beat so hard that I swear people nearby can see it beating from my chest. I once compared grief to spilling cold soup in your lap. You feel like you can't fix it, can't change it, and can't just walk away. Some grief is that way. But this, this is the kind of pain that picks at your bones relentlessly. You can feel it stealing away who you are inside just a little more every day as you try to pretend you are entirely fine.

Fine. Fine.

There is no such thing as ever being O.K again when you house this kind of pain inside of you. The pain you cannot escape from because even when you sleep it sneaks up on you and whispers in your ear.

Loss.

the pain of loss

The pain that settles in your bones when your heart is missing an integral piece that makes up the person you are.

You never feel whole again from that moment.

It's always there.

Sometimes though you let it boil over, like an overinflated balloon. It screams to be let out, loosened, set fee. 

The tears spill to the surface, they spill over your face like rain a summer storm and wash away any hope you had of ever feeling normal again.

Sometimes in those moments you allow yourself to see what could have, should have, or might have become,  if only...

if only...

 Haunting thoughts and words for anyone that has ever suffered loss.

 If only I.. 

my thoughts began and that was enough to open flood gates I wasn't able to contain the rush I had been trying to protecting myself against.  I was blindsided.

 Grief does that sometimes. It hits you like a freight train out of nowhere and there isn't a thing you can do to save yourself.

August is hard. 

because I miss you and who you might have been. 

I was standing there raw in my grief, as if it hadn't been 19 years.  As if It was a fresh wound still pouring forth blood and rage and fear.

In some ways it is always fresh. You don't breath a moment without loss reminding you it there. It may not bubble to the surface frequently but it is always there, just waiting for the wound to open and bleed hot, fresh, and viscous over everything surrounding you.

I have always been embarrassed by my grief for you. I am sorry for that. 

I carry the burden of you alone.

if only. ( there it is again )

 I am embarrassed by all of the pain this body and heart holds. It isn't just you.

I have run from the grief many times, wrapping myself in a blanket of logic and excuse. I tried to run from it this time, but you know me too well.

I tripped.

Literally, tripped.

I caught myself and looked to find what had tripped me intending to pick it up and throw it into the ocean for daring to stop me. What I saw stole all the air from my lungs. You ...

the reminders I see when I miss you the most.

a single heart.

sometimes you surprise me in a flower petal, or a misshapen cookie, a cloud, or a spill. Reminding me that you are still in heaven waiting... you got the better end of the deal my love. If you ask me.

and there you were.

I may have never been able to hug you, but in moments like these I am sure you are hugging me

I'm Not Home Yet

This song sparks hope in me. It reminds me that no matter how much suck I have going on right now I am not home. this isn't the end. This isn't what it's about. I am bringing my suffering to the cross and taking rest in him. I try to remember to offer it up for those around me that are hurting and suffering. (thanks for the reminder my friends) In him, With him, and Through him I will find rest. Maybe not while my physical body walks this Earth, but some day.

But I still miss me. I miss the me that felt the sunshine. I miss feeling joy! Not just everyday joy, but the kind of joy that makes your eyes burn with the happiness you cannot contain.
I miss looking around and feeling like my life is a breath of air that fills my lungs. 

I miss the sunshine.

I miss the warmth.

I know I will feel those things again logically. But right now, it feels so hopeless. So impossible. 

It makes me angry.

I should be happy. I have every reason in the world to be happy. I am so blessed! I have amazing kids. a handsome, caring, superhero husband. I have a house that fits us, a yard to play in, and clothes to wear. I have food to eat. I have people praying for me.

Yet, I feel undeserving. I feel selfish for feeling so sad. 

Because I shouldn't feel this way.

I feel like a failure.

But I'm not home yet. This is not where I belong. I belong to HIM, and I belong in the light.The Lord didn't make me to cry and cower. He made me to shine.
It's going to take a while, but I have to believe I will get there somehow.

Conflict and Chaos

I feel sad. Of course I knew I would on a human level, but I wasn't prepared for the conflicted feelings I am dealing with now. I am looking back on things in a very different light. I know we both did what we did because we both felt we were doing the right thing. We both acted out of love for the boys, even if we were coming from wildly different places.
 She did teach me a lot.

 She taught me how to sew. She bought me my first sewing machine and sewing box. I still remember her patiently teaching me how to read the pattern for the pig costume I was making AJ. I still have that sewing machine and sewing box. I still smile when I look at it. I always have, even when things were dark.

 She helped me discover fine dining. I cringe when I think back. She took me to a nice place for my "last meal" before Tyler was born and I ordered a filet mignon. We were at a place in Fall River on the water. I ordered my steak well done! Oh if I had only known.

She taught my older boys to swim. I don't know how and my older two are absolute fish! They loved her pool and her hot tub. Looking back on that, it was a wild experience for them. It was something I didn't have the capacity to give them.

She once sent a giant... I mean GIANT bag of stuff from her store. Crafty things and doohickies. Little cups and butterflies. I loved it. I still haven't used all of it. It was a really thoughtful thing for her to do. That was while things were going well with all of us. She braved 100* heat to see the boys play despite it taking a toll on her.

She gave me my first car. A ford Mustang convertible that I LOVED driving. I felt so bad ass in that thing. I will never forget driving to work in Acushnet, just a little too fast, and spinning it all the way round on a sand patch.

She placed the most obnoxious crying baby mat under my feet at the baby shower for Tyler. It made me so frustrated at the time.

She patiently tried to teach me to wrap gifts. She even secretly had me wrap my own one year. I was terrible at it. I still am. She loved Christmas though. She was always like a big kid. The cookies and the egg nog to decorate the tree. The burned batch and one broken ornament each year. We still do the cookies and egg nog here. There was this bubble bear that was possessed too.
The hours she spent lovingly putting out her village and decorating. I don't have that patience at all.

I guess those things make me sadder than I thought they would.
But most of all...
She loved those boys. Loved them like they were her own children. And really, that is always a win in my book