Tonight is one of those nights. I am not even sure what I am feeling. Empty, broken, scared, anxious, tired, exhausted or some mixture of or maybe all of or maybe none. I have no idea.
I have been stable for a few days. I have been in an OK place. I have been at a place where I could be strong for everyone else. That is not where I am tonight, but I don't know where I am.
We met with the investigator this morning and ran through everything one more time. It was a conversation that I almost enjoyed. We were with him for probably an hour and only spent about 15 minutes on that morning. The rest of the time we talked about Carson's life, his birth, and all sorts of things. It was unexpected and enjoyable. The best part was the policeman using all of his equipment to break into a car in the parking lot. His car. To get his keys back. It was entertaining.
We ran some more errands, we did some more things. I can't find any triggers for my mood. I keep reliving my day trying to explain my mood, but I can't. I realized that I don't need to. I belong to no one. My feelings, my moods are exactly that, they are mine. I can own them. I want to own them, but it is really hard to do that. It is really hard for me to just feel. I don't emote very often. My emotions are happy, happier and off the charts.
I am used to being the strongest, the pillar where people crumble and I hold them up. I am not sure how to ask for help, I am not sure what to even ask for. I have no idea and that, I believe is the hardest part for me. I am not sure how to be vulnerable because I don't like to be.
There are not many places besides the presence of my God, my Father that I can be truly vulnerable. Today my prayer has been that I could find permission from Him and myself to feel and for the strength to own my feelings. To know that the perception of other people doesn't matter. What matters is that I can feel what I feel because it is what I am feeling and I can give myself permission to do that.
When our Levi died , one might say that we had 3.5 years to prepare. Levi was given a terrible prognosis from minute 1, a 10 percent chance and yet my brain said, well someone has t be in the 10 percent, it is going t be Levi. Fast forward through 3.5 years of hopes, highs and lows, despair. I would put everyone to bed, make sure they were sleeping, then lay on the couch sobbing as quietly as I could, grieving, even as he was asleep in his bed, even when I could wander into his room and climb in with him to assure myself that he was here, still alive, still with us, in his dreams plotting all the havoc we was going to wreak the next day. He was that kind of guy.
ReplyDeleteWhen the count down to the end came, a really bad scan, the referral to hospice, coming home to our country road, to a house full of neighbors, casseroles, (2 of the 8 signs that something really sad is going to happen) 02, morphine, a hospital bed that he refused to get into at first and a nurse, (a nurse is never a good sign). Yet, I maintained, this is not happening. When the friends came and prayed (in tongues, no less) I was sure, that in spite of all the other elements that that would get up to the 10 %. Nope. When Levi began t fade, I was still sure there would be a loop hole that we could find and slip through. I even thought to myself, "Lets just get through this whole death thing, and we'll get back to normal". Of course, Levi was always with us, in my mind, he was our normal, After he slipped away, surrounded my us, Under my hand on his little chest I felt his heart beat go from wild bird flutter, fighting to get away, to a slow, soft, almost not there , and finally not thump. I watched the funeral director come and take him from our house, after the police came to make sure ..what I don't know and still I spent the next 2-3 weeks in a fog, not feeling anything except maybe a small guilt ridden bit of relief that no one was dying and suffering at our house any more. at a bout that 2-3 week point, you have read all of the cards, all of the casseroles are gone and you begin to wrap your brain around forever and what that means. At that point, you become champion multitasker, grieving is your full time with ZERO benefits job and along with that you feed kids, drive kids, feed yourself, pay the light bill, sob at the grocery store, unashamed, sob at the bank unashamed, go to work, sob at work unashamed. Grief is work, work that cannot be avoided or slacked upon. Your grief, the depth the weight can only be compared to the love that you have for that little sunshine dude. you would not deny your love, you cannot deny your grief. You are not on this dark rough road a lone, look in front of you, look all around you. We are here. Heaven is not a far away up in the sky kind of place, it real, we had it when we had all of our sweeties under one roof, in arms reach. Carson is there, Levi and Kiley are there. We will be there and then forever wont be such a painful concept. Love all of you.