have you read the children's book "we're going on a bear hunt" it's an old one, this family encounters all these obstacles on a bear hunt and each time they say "we can't go over it, we can't go under it, oh no we've got to go through it"
that's where i'm at. there is a path laid out in front of me, a path to healing, to being made whole, but it's going to hurt like hell to get there. i can literally see the pain waiting for me and i'm scared.
scared of what it's going to be like when i clean out his drawers
scared of what it's going to be like when i give his stuff away
scared of what it's going to be like when i find a job
put my kids in daycare
go to bed alone every night and wake up alone every day
being a single mom
the beginning of grief is akin to what i imagine drowning to feel like. in between numb these waves of intensity hit you with the force of a storm. it's physically painful, when elly died i could literally feel my heart hurting. your entire physical system goes into shock. when jim died, i thought - i can't believe i have to live through this again.
not quite two weeks out and my mind is already insulating itself, the memory of that Thursday has already faded because your body had to forget the pain. but i can look out over the next year and know more waves will come, more body racking sobs into my pillow will come, the feeling of being swallowed whole will be there and i'll have to battle it.
it honestly makes me a little fearful. sometimes the worst part of pain is knowing it's coming for you.
i don't know why my life is the way it is. i'm not sure why i got this hand... why i've known so much loss and pain and tragedy. but i rest in the fact that this is my phoenix moment. something beautiful will rise from these ashes.
in the meantime though... i ache for my husband and my daughter. jim and my ellybean.
Showing posts with label one year to healing. Show all posts
loss.
Sunday, May 8, 2016
most of my life feels like a nightmare right now. i wake up and live a day filled with loss and then sleep a night filled with nightmares.
elly would have been two months old yesterday. i thought about the monthly pictures i was going to do with her- taken with her bunny lovey and wept. i thought about how she won't get a first birthday party, or ever get to run or walk, won't say momma, won't wave out the window while her sister and brother go to school... and then i thought about how i could have born all of the weight of losing my child if only my husband would have stayed.
that morning when he walked out, we didn't touch each other. i was preoccupied with getting the kids breakfast and assumed he was pulling in the trash cans. i don't know why things didn't go differently- why i didn't say something or pull him in for a hug or why i didn't hear the car door slam. the why's in this situation could swallow me, very easily actually.
i keep telling myself dawn will come, that my family will rise from this- but honestly at this point i have a hard time believing that i still have a family. my counterpart, my constant is gone, ripped from my life in the cruelest way imaginable. the thing i keep thinking is why us, i mean we were so in love. so many people these days are in loveless or unhappy marriages. that wasn't us. we were in bliss, so content to just be- just be together. i would have never ever left his side, not even for a second. we never strayed from each other in the five years we were married.
there isn't a second that goes by that i don't feel his void in my life and catching the smiles of my kids as they run around and play rips the wound further... the only thought in my head "he should be here for this, he should be here for this"
it's hard to be this broken.
elly would have been two months old yesterday. i thought about the monthly pictures i was going to do with her- taken with her bunny lovey and wept. i thought about how she won't get a first birthday party, or ever get to run or walk, won't say momma, won't wave out the window while her sister and brother go to school... and then i thought about how i could have born all of the weight of losing my child if only my husband would have stayed.
that morning when he walked out, we didn't touch each other. i was preoccupied with getting the kids breakfast and assumed he was pulling in the trash cans. i don't know why things didn't go differently- why i didn't say something or pull him in for a hug or why i didn't hear the car door slam. the why's in this situation could swallow me, very easily actually.
i keep telling myself dawn will come, that my family will rise from this- but honestly at this point i have a hard time believing that i still have a family. my counterpart, my constant is gone, ripped from my life in the cruelest way imaginable. the thing i keep thinking is why us, i mean we were so in love. so many people these days are in loveless or unhappy marriages. that wasn't us. we were in bliss, so content to just be- just be together. i would have never ever left his side, not even for a second. we never strayed from each other in the five years we were married.
there isn't a second that goes by that i don't feel his void in my life and catching the smiles of my kids as they run around and play rips the wound further... the only thought in my head "he should be here for this, he should be here for this"
it's hard to be this broken.
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