This weekend made the latter of those two statements a bit difficult as I watch the calendar turn over for the eighth time since my daughter passed away. While I took some time away to get my mind off of things, the thought of the anniversary was ever present and I had to forcibly tell myself to think on other things. If you haven't been through the loss of a child you can still relate. When is the last time you ate more than you should because you couldn't resist the Oreos and a cold glass of milk? Were you a smoker trying to quit? How easy was it to walk away and not feel the longing for what you once had? If you have faced the extremes of an addiction I can only imagine it to be even worse. No matter how hard you try not to think of those things there is a part of your mind that refuses to let go. And that tug of war can be exhausting.
But, when you face the drastic losses I've faced you can't force your thoughts too far forward or you'll find yourself in the future and it can be equally dismal. Let me give you an example of the mental gymnastics those who have experienced loss go through. Especially if they are in my shoes.
I miss my child. My child is not with me. My one constant through the first seven and a half years through the grieving process was my wife. I miss my wife. My wife is not with me. There is no one there to truly hold my grief in check. Everywhere I look I expect to see them. Everywhere I look I cannot find them. Instead I find reminders. So, why not get away from the reminders? I'll go to the beach. They both enjoyed the beach so I better go somewhere I haven't been before with them.
But I don't want to be totally alone because that only makes it worse. I'll invite a friend. My friend and I will enjoy one another's company and it will be a great distraction from loss. But everywhere I look I see memories of my family even though they aren't there and have never been there. And then the dreaded thing happens. It's about time to go home. That's it. That's the dreaded thing. I know, I know. We all hate to come home from vacation. But I get to come home to an empty house when I leave. And I don't want to leave. So I delay getting home by scheduling a meeting with one sweet new friend for breakfast and another for lunch. But then I have to get home eventually. And then I'll be all alone again. And, darn it, I've missed church so I won't get all my hugs.
And there you have it. All of this before I've even packed up my toothbrush.
But my breakfast company was wonderful and seeing one of my daughter's friends and her son at lunch made the extra 5 pounds from this weekend worth it. And, although they weren't at my house, I did have two little girls waiting for me to come tuck them in at their house as Uncle Kevin resumed his Sunday night visits.
And then the roller coaster drops again as I miss having someone to tuck in at night. I miss when she would tuck me in occasionally. I miss having someone to hold in my own bed at night. Then I have to face the realization again that I will never get to tuck in my grandkids because I'll never have any. And now I've come full circle. I've begun to dwell on what I don't and won't have rather than the fact that two little girls are waiting for Uncle Kevin to come play pretend school with them and then take them and tuck them in.
And that is where my focus must lie. I am so blessed. I had a beautiful woman actually agree to have breakfast with me. I had an incredible young lady and her handsome little boy truly want to have lunch with this old man. I had a mother and father looking forward to my visit and I had two little girls lean in for a kiss goodnight as I pulled the covers up just under their chins. How much greater can my life be right now? This is where I am and this is what I choose to make of it. And although the tears of what will never be may have me standing outside a house trying to collect myself, the joy of what is to come will have me marching up the steps and scooping up some precious joy.
No comments:
Post a Comment