There are layers and layers. And with each layer you peel back, the tears fall until your eyes sting so bad you feel like you just can’t go on.
But with grief (not my experience with an onion by a long shot), I think there comes a day that you develop a tolerance, at first a survival mechanism, to be able to withstand the turbulent waves of sadness, disappointment and guilt. Slowly this tolerance becomes more than surviving, it becomes living.
After we lost Jenna I became a hermit overnight. I dreaded going anywhere. The mundane rituals of getting gas, going to pay a bill, stopping by the store to pick up some bread and milk, was too much. It was torture to think of doing anything ‘normal’ after burying our daughter. Being at home was a safe place. I didn’t have to hold back tears, or wear a mask behind closed doors. There were no pregnant bellies or baby girls to avoid.
Slowly, slowly going places became easier. I wasn’t so aware of the grief, and the cloud of sadness that seemed to always be there.
Last night, I found a part of the old me again. And it feels so good…
Sometimes you don’t realize things about yourself until you start talking out loud.
Last night I was telling Pete I really am not a homebody.
I LOVE to go places, see things, do things. In the middle of conversation I caught myself being me again, going back to something I haven’t been able to enjoy these past few years, and something I’ve really been missing. I don’t have to spend a whole lot of money or any money (hence my new obsession with Houston on the Cheap). I am passionate about taking Bubby places and enjoying these last few months of just me and him during the day. I want him to know he is so loved, even with a new baby on the way.
He has been super clingy these past few weeks. I think he knew before we did. He likes to hold my hand, everywhere we go – to the bedroom to make the bed, walking around in the backyard. It makes getting things done (i.e. typing) nearly impossible, but it’s adorable and I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you I love it :)
But last night I realized that part of grief has slipped away, and I’m more than okay with it. I’m not just okay going places and getting out of the house, I want to. And it feels like a little bit of this load has been lifted off me, to be able to enjoy one of the things I used to love so much.