This Process

I know some of you are wondering how can I go from such grief to trying to find simple joy.  That is what this grieving process is.  You can’t explain it.  You can’t fix it.  It just is.  That I can go from such sadness that I don’t think I can go on; to wanting to watch the bunnies.  And it happens day-to-day.  And, when I’m lucky, I may have two days in a row of simple joys.  It is a process and there is no right or wrong way to feel.  And no one can tell you you should be happy or you should be grateful.  It is how you feel and you can’t just change your feelings like you change your clothes.
You feel.  You grieve.  You exist. 

You try to find the balance that feels right.  It may be filling your calendar with places to go and people to see--to keep yourself busy.  Or it may be not filling your calendar so that you can have time alone.  There is no right and there is no wrong.  It's what feels right at the moment.

So I don't deny my feelings and I don't apologize for them.  I've been writing this blog every day since Ed went into the hospital and to sugar coat things would not be honest.  Days are not all sunshine and laughter.  But I move on and I move through each day.  Some are harder than others.  But some get easier.

I try to find simple joys.  I am accomplishing tasks at work and that gives me pleasure.  Work is an amazing distraction.  I can dig in and focus my brain and show progress and have successes.  I'm starting to feel on top of things again.  But I say that in a whispered voice because every time I've started to feel this way over the past couple months, the other shoe would drop and throw my life into turmoil again.  Please, God, let my forward progress continue.

I dreamt about Ed last night.  It was a bizarre dream and I don't remember all the details, but I felt his touch and he was there and when I awoke, I remembered.  So this is a good way to start my day.  And once again the sun is shining and I enjoy how nice my front lawn looks after mowing last night (although the bunnies can no longer hide in the clover).  And as I've done the last two days, I will take a walk outside this morning and just breath in the cool, morning air.

The grief may hit me over the head again this evening.  I just never know.  But for now, I will let the sun warm my face, look up at the blue sky, and just be.