This was written weeks ago and I forgot to push "publish."
I know that last post ended super dark. It was intentionally done that way. I hate how I feel like Christians have to always provide hope or an upside to something. Sometimes there literally is NO upside to a dark place. And I think we all need to be ok with sitting in the pain and not having to provide a joyful response to in the midst of or in spite of it. When we do we minimize the person's pain.
Of course, I have picked myself up and kept moving. There is much to be done and so much to take care of. I got back to work less than a month after losing Miriam (it is part-time so that helps). The kids needed food and someone had to make it. My to-do list got long and the time got short and I had to get moving.
But, I am still a different person. I'm a person that sees the world differently. I'm told that I will feel both sorrow and joy in a deeper way, but that hasn't happened yet. For now my life moves with a different rhythm. My mind is thinking about heavier things, like what God's role is in suffering, and how we should be interacting with those around us as we all carry different heavy loads of pain along with us.
I am so grateful for the gifts I do have. I have no idea what I would do without Dave, and our two precious and amazing children. We are just plain lucky to have a warm home and food and people that love us while we grieve. There is a LOT to be grateful for.
Yet, the rhythm and melody of life has changed. There is a low tone of sadness that follows me wherever I go. This doesn't mean I cry all the time (I actually cry very rarely), but there is a loss in my life that colors how I view the rest of the world. While others rejoice and celebrate things worth celebrating I offer a smile and kind world and wonder how I will ever feel true joy again. I long to join in their joy and feel it completely the way they do, but my heart just can't. It's too broken at the moment.
I absolutely know that people care about us and love us, but still continue to say words that wound. And that's ok. I am used to it and know it's not intentional. But, it does make social situations hard. And making friends hard. I am a difficult person to get close to and I know it. I know if I were in a completely healthy place I would be an extrovert, but for now I protect my heart and stay close to home. It's how I cope and how I can control one tiny aspect of my life and allow myself to feel safe. I know most people will never know what this loss feels like and they know that so they are so gentle and kind to me. It's so appreciated, but it doesn't take away how I feel and how I get through the days. And that's ok too.
And as this writing rambles along as my thoughts come out onto the page I will close this post for now. This is how I feel today. Tomorrow I may feel differently. But, I'm learning that however I feel it's ok. Today I am sad, lonely, ashamed, angry, but also happy. They are felt simultaneously and warmly. I carry them with me and I share them with you with an open heart. Know that I appreciate every word and smile shared. I know I am not alone, but in this rare quiet moment I reflect and decide that for today, loneliness is quiet alright.