It’s Saturday, aka “rest day.” For me, it means a day when I don’t have to get out of bed. So it took me quite a while to do just that. I went about my blah day, feeling blah and resisting doing anything productive.
While I accomplish nothing useful, I demand that my children pick up their shoes and the clothes that they have peeled off downstairs. That is the thing with boys on hot days, they undress anywhere and leave their clothing everywhere.
I insist that they pick up their clothes “NOW” and take them up to their rooms. Then I take my coffee into my room where piles of my clean clothes sit on the chair and in the laundry basket awaiting my attention. I hear my voice saying “NOW,” to which I respond, “What-EVER.”
I have a packet of papers that need completing, well, NOW. My resume needs further tweaks, and I need to get my the boys dirty clothes washed, folded, and up to their rooms. But I just don’t feel like it.
When September hit, I wondered why it was hard from the start. I’ve been acutely aware that it marks the 6 month mark of Tom’s passing. It’s more than that though.
September is also the month that my Step-Dad died (2 years ago). When he died I felt like a hole had been burnt through my heart. He’d fought a war against Cancer and he had won…. but the heart attack took him anyway. I felt robbed. No one got the chance to even say goodbye.
I was able to get past the pain of Papa dying with a lot of help from Tom. He held me and let my cry my heart out. He understood. Now that I’ve lost him too, there is no one here to hold me. Instead, I am the one that has to hold on.
I am holding onto the precious memories, holding our dear children and praying that I do right be them, holding my breath, and holding onto hope that it will all be okay – someday soon.
At night, I hold YaYa’s teddy bear so that I can sleep. When morning rolls around, I be hold up my head and pretend that everything is okay. Before long, I’ll even be able to convince myself.
Thankfully, our grief support groups start next week.
One minute, one hour, one day at a time, Julie. Keep hanging in. Hugs to you.
you’re the mom, you get different rules!
i didn’t know about your stepdad. these “anniversaries” must be doubly hard.
Just know that you have a big group out here in internet land holding on with you. (((HUGS)))
Sometimes holding on is all we can do. I really don’t think you should hold your breath though, so I am going to encourage you to breathe. Breathe deep, let it all out.
I like how you have hope in the face of despair, it shows a lot of charachter, Juls.
Juls, I’m going to be holding onto my own little family a little tighter tonight. I am always so touched that you share so deeply; it truly does inspire me every day. lots of hugs and happy thoughts
I’m so glad you have a support group of people who really can and do feel your pain. It will help.
You will get through this and everything will be okay. It takes time and you must be gentle with yourself. You are showing such remarkable strength and that’s good but it’s also good to let yourself buckle once in a while when you can. You deserve that. It’s okay.
You might not feel it or see if but KNOW that there are people who think about you often and we pray for you and we are happy just to see you holding on, one day at a time.