Thursday, August 30, 2012

Grief will always suck.

No matter how good life can get, grief will always suck.

And that sneaky little bugger grief always pops up, whether you're ready or not (when are you ever really ready?)

And the other thing about grief - it's life long. Just like love. And you when you lose someone you love, the hurt never disappears, even when it doesn't hurt to breathe anymore. And that love never goes away either, even when you find more room in your heart to love again.

This week grief has been following me around. It popped up in different places: in the faces of my children, in hearing stories of others' tragic losses, in my early morning prayers while I'm out running, going through stuff in the basement...nearly everywhere. Like someone kicking the back of my knee each time until finally I fall down.

The other night, Steve took our three girls out on a date. Since the boys and I weren't feeling all that well, we were just going to stay in, but Caleb asked if we could go on a "sick date" - how could I say no? We grabbed some food and headed to Jer's memorial stone to eat with Daddy at the College. I love getting to chance to have one-on-one with our kids, and Caleb is so much fun to talk to - I never have a dull moment trying to figure out where the heck he comes up with half the stuff he says. But I also love hearing him talk about his daddy. How much he misses him, what he thinks daddy might be doing in Heaven, what he wants to tell him, and his favorite memories of him. He is just the spitting image of Jeremy, it hurts my heart sometimes.

I sat in front of Jer's stone and watched the boys play while tears filled up in my eyes. What an odd place to watch my sons play - at their dad's memorial stone. I love being able to go there and spend time in that place, but it will never feel right to be there.

Every once in awhile, the kids ask to watch the videos on my desk top that were taken days before Jeremy died of the kids with a whoopie cushion. The sound of Jer's his voice can confuse me like nothing else. This morning when Caleb asked to watch it, my brain couldn't make sense of hearing his voice right there but knowing he's not here anymore. He sounds so close, still so real like I could reach out and touch him. Only, I can't.

I tend to be too hard on myself sometimes, thinking I should be ok and grief shouldn't overwhelm like it still can sometimes. But then I remember that it hurts so great because I was loved so great.

I try to let myself have the bad days, because just sucks.

1 comment:

  1. Thank put words so perfectly to something that I could not. "He is just the spitting image of Jeremy, it hurts my heart sometimes". My son is the spitting image of his dad and we too have "dates" to daddy's memorial. And you're right, I enjoy those moments, but they will never feel right. Thanks again for those words...