Happy end of February,
As of today, it will be four weeks. Four weeks of feeling everything and yet nothing. Four weeks of waking up and forgetting and then remembering. Four weeks of missing Liberty and yearning to love on her one more time. Four weeks of trying to understand what I'm supposed to do with all my free time. What am I supposed to be doing? Loving and caring for Libby kept me very busy. Now, I have a hole in my time.
I have this recurring deep ache in my torso. It feels as if there is a literal hole that burns and hurts. Then I can't breathe. My throat clenches closed. I can't think past the unadulterated missing of her. Finally, the tears come. Eventually, I can swallow again. I'm calling them Liberty attacks. Like all things Liberty, I cannot predict when they will hit.
And it's okay. It's good to feel the hard emotions too. I spend a lot of time being numb which is beginning to fade- gracefully. My brain isn't holding some thoughts as long as it used to, grief fog is real for me. I am blessed by the people I work and worship with as they continue to reach out to me and offer hugs and understanding. It helps. Not sure how to carry this grief, so I'll embrace all the support I can.
I do not want to become stuck in the sad cycle. I don't want to see my laugh lines become grief lines. Been holding my breath for many years, pleading to keep Libby here and healthy. Think I need to find ways to love the life I shared with Libby and to continue to love life now.
In the past, I have said "I am broken" after whatever painful event occurred, but I don't really think we become broken. I think that we bend and bend and bend like a tree. And sometimes we may feel broken.
We, meaning me, tend to let the daily pains and/or struggles build up until we have to either bend or break. As yoga and life have taught me, I get stronger when I bend. Like the trees in the Texas Panhandle, we bend to the winds. When I think of the many ways I am blessed to be able to do so I have a small idea of the grace we are offered.
Thanks to a student who told me about this cool kind of fixing pottery: Kintsugi. There is a cool story attached to this method of filing in and then admiring the preciously scared broken pottery have. The Japanese have found a way to fill in the broken parts of the pottery with gold, which is much like the grace offered to us. You see, we may bend and sometimes break, but with whatever faith we embrace, our scars can become beautiful opportunities to grow. https://www.lifegate.com/kintsugi is a cool site to check out. This time of missing Libby makes me feel like I've been stripped of the powerful love we shared. I need the reminder that she is with us- with me. Taking Sparkles and Kitty out helps a lot. These scars of missing her will be ones I wear with honor. They will become what I showcase.
A song to help soothe https://youtu.be/nKBkdp_gCCs
Beautifully painful, raw, and real. Much love to you all.
ReplyDeleteKay Whitmire
This was beautiful. I feel your pain and struggle of learning your new life. The one you didn’t choose to live. You call it grief fog, it is definitely a thing after such a great loss.
ReplyDeleteContinue to do those things that honor the love you had for Liberty. Continue to spread the love you had for her with the world. Make your new world what you want it to be. Your love for Liberty will always be a constant even in your new world.
Even though her physical body is no longer with you, she still remains. She exists within you. It’s you that must carry her light to shine to the world. She will continue to show you signs that she is still with you. Whether is a special song in the radio while you are driving, a hawk in the sky flying over you in all of its glory, A cardinal peeking in at you just to say hello, and the list could go on and on.
Hold steady mama. Lean on those who understand your heart and your loss.
Big hugs and love for you and your family. I know the waves of grief of a different loss but they are grief nonetheless. Be gentle to yourself!
Without a doubt, one of the hardest events to endure. Very well spoken.
ReplyDeleteI admire the grace you are allowing you to give to yourself. Grief is hard. A learning lesson in love the world doesn't teach or talk much about. You and your family are loved, thought of, prayed over, and we are all here in common humanity for you.
ReplyDeleteI am unsure why my post is named Josie. Really. I had a miscarriage and if the precious baby was a girl here name would have been Josie.
ReplyDeleteLove, Georgia Dondlinger
I am so glad that you are continuing to share your journey. It is so very hard, this path you are on. However, it gives me great relief to see that you are not fighting the grief. Your understanding of grief, especially your personal grief, shows what a deep and introspective soul you are. The grace that you are giving yourself and the world around you will continue to keep your path lit, so that you won't have to stumble as often. I'm here, though, if you do.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, this is Terri.
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