Tuesday, May 15, 2012

The small things

When Michele asked me to write here, there is only one thing I clearly remember her saying in the brief - write as honestly as I can from where I am NOW.

So that's what I try to do each week.... write my now.
my truth.
As honestly as I can.
My soul stripped bare.

Some weeks, I am OK.  Good even.  But other weeks, I am not so good.
This is one of those weeks.

I am sick.  My chest rattles as I suck air in and out. My head pounds.  My eyes leak. My energy has evaporated and I am light headed whenever I try to do anything.
I am tired.
I am sick of the petty squabbles over who farted on who's pillow.
I am tired of cooking and cleaning when I am not working or preparing for work.
I am sick of being in charge of everything.  All the big things and all the small things.
I feel like I'm sinking under the weight of a life that was meant to have two parents involved in bringing up the children.
I am angry at a God I no longer believe in (I said I was being honest - I didn't say my thoughts had to make sense to you).
If anyone had told me I'd still be feeling this aching pain 26 months later, I think I would have given up right then and there when I first heard the news that he was dead.

I feel like I am going backwards into my grief when I have been trying so long to move forwards through it.
This is not like me at all.
I am a do-er.
A pick-yourself-up-er.
A set-your-goal-and-go-for-it-er.
A great believer in the almighty I CAN do it.
And I always achieve what I set my mind to.
Except when I don't.

Early this morning, I sat on our my bed and the tears just ran in rivers down my face. I wanted to be held by his arms.  I wanted someone to look at me like I was the most beautiful and precious jewel they'd ever seen.  I wanted someone to tell me they loved me above all else.

....and then my kids came in with their hilarious home-made Mother's Day gifts.
The small things they had painstakingly made out of bits and bobs they had collected.
....and they hugged me, and told me I was the best mother in the world (they are easily pleased).
...and I realised....
I am loved.

Life still sucks beyond the telling of it, but I am loved.
These two little souls are here, in front of me, looking at me like I am the most precious jewel they have ever seen.
Holding me in their arms.
Telling me that they love me so much.

....and I say a silent prayer of thanks to the God I no longer believe in.
The God of small things....

Handmade jewels


  1. Beautiful - Love that "the god of small things".
    I lost any belief in the "big white guy in the sky" so long ago with every death in my family. BUT - (before the many comments get posted about why I should have faith) I do believe in exactly that - the numinous moments that come to us and represent the greater love, the reasons to hold on, the expression of what all that faith is supposed to mean - love, compassion, taking care of each other.
    Hold on to the small things . . . .I have found after a year and a half that it is those things that have got me through.
    I hope you feel better so soon.

  2. Thank you Amanda, for articulating just how I felt last week. In this more precarious grieving place, things like being sick feel like they destroy the rhythms I have worked so hard to find for us. I have also recently discovered that the fastest route to resenting my kids is not having enough sleep. Being rested and having time to be together takes me back to loving and enjoying them. Hope you feel better soon, and Happy Mother's Day.

  3. Amanda, your post brought tears! Thank you for your honesty. I am at 26 months and feel exactly the same. Where you in my head today? Fortunately, I am blessed that my children are in their 20s. However, they still need that second parent for career coaching, relationship advice, financial mentoring. On the days I allow the grief to settle in, I feel like the weakness person ever.

    Hugs and thanks!

  4. That you so much for your post. I am in the same place as you are in the grief journey. It's comforting to know that I am not traveling alone!

  5. me too amanda, me too.......to everything.....

  6. I can relate 100%. Beautifully written Amanda.

  7. Amanda, I truly understand your heartache as I loss my soul mate two hours after praying together as a family. Every time I think about my children being fatherless it breaks my heart. I also get frustrated at times especially now since they are teenagers. I recall months after my husband died calling my mother-in-law crying about how my body just aches for my husband and I felt myself going into a deep depression. She encouraged me with words of faith. She told me not to lose heart, but to meditate on those things that are good. I did that and I begin to feel alive again. I think your husband would want you to continue to live and not to give up on God. I know it hurts right now so give yourself permission to cry, be angry, scream and shout, but know that God has a beautiful plan for your life. You have to continue your journey. Start with professing positive things about your life. Start thanking God for your wonderful future even though you can’t see it right now. He’ll bless you again so don’t lose faith and don’t lose heart. You have a future that awaits you. He blessed you once, He'll do it again. I'll be praying for you and your children.