Expected

Grief is weird.  Grief is hard.  Grief is confusing.

As I was sitting in my front room last night, content with the glow of the Christmas tree, I thought back on the last two months of our lives.  My goodness, they have been full:  Full of joy, full of immense sorrow.  Full of activity, full of laziness.  Full of clarity and counted blessings.  Full of confusion.  A lot of confusion.

There are moments where I feel so much faith, so much strength, so much hope, and I revel in the peace and comfort that Heaven has afforded my once-suffering child.  And others I just don't know how I can function.  In the moments of faith and strength and hope, I look at the times that I have been drowning with stunned surprise, confused that I can feel so up and down without real thought on my part--'how can you even think/feel that way?  You know there is a Plan!  You know that Caden is thriving and free of pain!  You know, remember?!'  But, sometimes, I do feel lost, I do feel unbearable sorrow, I do feel like I am drowning.  Some moments I know things are going to be difficult (Christmas decorating!) and others that I don't realize the effects until I am in them (Christmas floral arrangement).  I cannot plan on strong emotions, because sometimes I don't feel strong.  I cannot know if I am going to be alright, because sometimes I am not alright.  I cannot really plan days in advance, because I cannot trust myself yet.  And I know that is ok.  Expected, even.  Sometimes grief is beating me to within an inch of my life.

 I have never sugar coated my words.  I have never written only the beauty, never shown only the perfect pictures, never painted a picture of our story that wasn't true emotion.  My words are raw and unfiltered.  This is our real love story.  I know these emotions are "normal."  I know that I am my own worst critic, always too hard on myself for what I consider personal failings and shortcomings.  I know that things will become easier as time moves on, that our new normal won't feel so foreign and surreal.  I know that one day it won't hurt so much, that I will be able to look back on these times and see beauty.  I know that holidays will be joyful without Academy Award Winner acting on my part.  I know.  But, for real, sometimes it is hard to even open my eyes, or close my eyes, or breathe.

It doesn't always hurt.  But when it does..... it really does.