the path.

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.