Someone said to me recently they don't know where I find the strength, and sometimes they feel weak when they read my posts. It made me really stop and think about what I'm sharing. I never want to give off the impression that it's easy or that if you just believe in God he will make it all better (although if you have given your heart to The Lord, he will always be there to provide the peace you need. He will not forget you). Any strength I have comes straight from The Lord. I could never do any of this on my own. And there are many moments I feel weak and I fall apart. In grad school my entire research project was on grief and a lot of what I wrote about were stages of grief. I surely can't recite them all now because that was a million years ago, but I can assure you, from own experience grief comes in moments, waves, mountain slides, a gentle breeze or a big old hurricane. Sometimes it's quick and sometimes it lasts all day. It's something you can't always explain to others, but can be seen all over your face.
So I have been compiling a list of "confessions" I guess you could call them. Things others might not know who haven't walked this walk. Or if they have, maybe something they can relate too. My hope is to encourage someone that it's okay to be on the roller coaster, you aren't alone.
I often sleep with her monkey
I feel guilty sometimes that she's the picture on my phone, my watch and around my neck, and I'm grateful my other children aren't really old enough to feel left out.
Everywhere reminds me of her
I leave the radio on a lot because this house is too quiet
I try to take way more videos of the kids now
I stay up late looking though the pictures and videos on my phone
I search other people's Facebook pages for pictures of her
I get sad when I can't picture her in my head
I don't feel "her presence"
I don't know what to do at the cemetery
I love to talk about her
My heart soars when I hear others talk about her
I'm scared she'll be forgotten
I watch my other kids neurological signs very closely
I stay in the shower for much longer than needed because it's the only place that I'm completely isolated
I'm tired of looking tired
I know what soul weeping is
I'm not depressed
I don't think people expect me to just be okay
Grief can still have a smile on it's face
Some days I'm just not in the mood to pretend I'm okay, and I can only be "not okay" around my husband
And some days it's easier to pretend to be happy then say how I really feel
I can't understand why there's not a cure for cancer, but we have the latest technology on our cell phones
I still take my other kids for granted
I miss St. Jude
I miss TN
I don't wonder what she would have been when she grew up because obviously that wasn't God's plan for her
I wonder how long till I see her
I read a lot about heaven
I cringe when Noah talks about death
I'm grateful Noah knows about death
I really wanted God to heal her, I wanted her to be that miracle
I wish Noah had her back to play with because he drives me nuts some days
Knowing that I can't hear her silly voice or hold her any more breaks my heart
I talk about my daughter a lot, probably more than some people may be comfortable with, but it makes me feel good.
The shower and the car are the places I cry the most.
I doodle her name
I wish I could hear God more often
I miss her bald head way more than her pig tails
Sometimes when I see other little girls around the same age I get jealous
I hit my steering wheel in anger...just not sure what I'm angry at
Sometimes I get frustrated when people act like nothing has happened in my life, but also feel weird when I get treated differently because of what has happened in my life
I'm not scared of death anymore