Must Be Positive

Post 263

I want to spill my guts on my hellacious year so far, but I don't think anybody is interested in reading about all my problems. I sure wouldn't be. Thankfully, my awesome Christian counselor helped me to sort through some of it yesterday, and I am feeling more myself again.

I have accepted that I am now a different person than I was before. Parts of me are the same, but my heart is damaged and it will never be what it was while I’m still here. Things in life that I used to be strong enough to deal with now cause more damage. I’m just not as strong as I once was, and if I move away just a little bit from the ONE WHO GIVES ME STRENGTH, then my heart hurts even more.

Why would I move away? It’s never intentional, and it’s not that I moved completely away, but I seriously rely on those walks to get the latest Jack Hibbs sermon in, or a dose of Lauren Daigle songs, or seeing my daughter “show up” as a GBH. Between being busier than normal at work and other circumstances, I wasn't consistent.

I will also mention that this past week I came down with a brief flu turned cold, and was also stuck inside due to this arctic freeze that pretty much shut down Huntsville for 4 days. The roads were pure ice and the area just apparently doesn't stock salt or have the means to lay it down. I NEED those mental health-clearing walks with my dog, and it was impossible.

When I thought about what I’d write this week though, I was going to tell you that I was now so accepting of Mo’s passing, that I was able to take care of one of the business-y things still related to her life (a $25 collections bill from LabCorps), without the same heart-wrenching pain that it caused every other time last year. I thought that's what I’d write, assuming that would be the case, but reality turned out differently this morning. The tears and pain tore through as I clicked on the box, “person is deceased” and had to attach a pdf of her death certificate.

And tomorrow will be my second birthday without Mo. I clearly remember last year wanting nothing to do with my birthday. I couldn't handle it. I tried to warn people not to remember it. This year I am willing to celebrate it, and I’m looking forward to lighting the birthday candle that I’d found in her things that day, which we lit and sang on my, hubby's, and son’s birthdays last year, and will continue to do so.

Hubby signed me up for an hour-long Swedish massage, and I think one way or another I won't be cooking. I will still absolutely miss getting a text or call or both from Morgan, but honestly, sometimes at night, I really feel as if she talks to me. One day, when I have the correct words to convey how or why, I’ll write about it. But when it occurs, she always tells me how much she loves me, how amazing it is where she is, and in the scheme of eternity, I’ll be there soon enough. I have a job to do first. I think she’ll wish me a Happy Birthday in this imaginative or ethereal way.

Jill, the emcee STECKER (lol-I got her name wrong in the COL program which she so graciously let go - ) made me feel so loved yesterday morning when she sent me the below words in a text letting me know she thought of and thinks of me. She’d come across this:

There are days when I feel happy
There are days when I feel sad
There are days when I feel at peace
and there are days when I cannot face the world
Then there is everyday,
that is when I grieve
- Louise Rees

The journey through grief unfolds as a spectrum of emotions, each day revealing a different facet of the intricate devastation of loss. There are days when the weight of sorrow feels insurmountable, and others when memories bring warmth and joy. Discovering moments of peace becomes a refuge in the midst of grief, but there are also days when the world transforms into an intimidating battlefield, making facing it seem like an impossible task.

The grief that follows the loss of a loved one is not confined to grand gestures or significant events; it subtly embeds itself into the fabric of our daily existence. It's the task of navigating through the mundane and the extraordinary, of facing internal struggles that often go unnoticed by the outside world.

In communities where people often shy away from the uncomfortable conversations about grief, acknowledging the daily struggles becomes an act of courage. It's recognizing that even on the sunniest days, a shadow of sorrow may linger.  

Everyday our grief demands acknowledgment and acceptance. How it presents itself on any given day becomes our daily task master. We do the best we can that is all anyone can ask of us, including ourselves.

It is the last couple sentences that ring truest to me.

Finally, I don't think I posted this before here, but every time I hear this song, it is also very meaningful. Until I went to send it to Rock 2 a couple months back, I’d thought Lauren Daigle had begun to branch out into country music. It’s not her though! Speaking of Rock 2, please ask God to give her and her family an extra dose of peace & strength today, the 6-month anniversary of her son, Matthew's, passing.