Disclaimer: this post is a heartfelt post, but it also is one that I am using to help spread the word about the Ford Fiesta Movement. The theme is still adventure, last week I posted my bucket list and last Tuesday I was able to live out one of those! :)
I find grief a very distant friend these days.
I don’t even know why I refer to grief as a “friend” either. But after all this time it hardly feels like an enemy. It feels like the only connection to her that I have left. Not so tangible but just as real.
And even though I feel like I have exhausted myself with every thought imaginable concerning our loss, I still crave to keep her spirit alive somehow. To tell you the truth, it’s in a different way now. Yes, to always remember her and keep her memory alive… but more so to celebrate the life I feel that she gave back to me. She handed me a new set of cards when she left this earth. I could hardly imagine at the time how much would change from that moment going forward, but it did. In every possible way, life changed and has never been the same. Of course, it goes without saying I would trade it all to raise her in our home, as the eldest daughter. My goodness, I think about that everyday. What it would be like with her here.
But she isn’t. And that’s just it. Life is different. And somewhere between the NICU stays, the beautiful friendships we have made along the way, and the ups and downs life has handed us since, we made a way to be happy again. To CHOOSE joy. To somehow make grief and joy very real parts of our lives, simultaneously.
For the first time since my loss I feel like it’s okay to not dwell, without feeling guilty about it. I know grief well enough that I am positive, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that she won’t ever leave me alone for good. She will take another swing at my heart before long, and it will be good for my soul when she does. Love like this never dies. It lives on in ways most people cannot understand unless you’ve lost too.
I’ve been picking up my art pencils again. It feels good to be saturated with prismacolors and ridiculous amounts of pencil sharpenings. And to have the art process churning in your heart and mind. To be completely impulsive. To create.
It takes me back to my college artsy days, but in a more confident way. Maybe because I have a few scars of my own. Some experience. Some heartbreak. Some hard-earned life lessons. When I remember my college days, I remember feeling so lost in the sea of starving art students all wanting to make their dent in this world.
She left behind so much, but one thing she gave me was confidence and courage. To just be me. To swallow it, as painful as it might be sometimes, because for goodness sake I am such a people-pleaser even though some might not think so.
To let go, and let things be.
I have been thinking about something I read a while back…
I’m letting go… so I can be free.
The thought of “letting go” tugs at my heart. Sometimes I wonder what it must be like for her when I am sad. Do she hurt too? It’s such a silly thought. Heaven wouldn’t be heaven if she cried. But I wonder if I’m supposed to keep letting go… not just for her but for me too…
To be free here.
Play the guitar. Hopefully, one day.
Draw, and doodle and draw some more.
Hold her baby sister’s hand.
Teach her baby brother about rainbows.
And watch the clouds go by.
Listen to the rain.
And sit under a starry sky and a howling moon, making for one of the most perfect nights in Fran-history while Mumford and Sons plays this song. And let the music pound through the grass through the souls of my feet until it reaches my heart and soul and tears flow.
But not for her, but for me.
Because now I am free.
And maybe, just maybe that’s what she’s wanted for me all along.
To be free, as she is today and has been since we said goodbye.
This is a sponsored post and I was compensated for my participation. The opinions expressed are my own. For more adventure inspiration visit here!