Like I said yesterday, there's no timeline to follow here. The day before yesterday was a Good Day. I got some sewing done, some necessary cleaning, cooked a good meal. It was a day I felt almost Normal (The Old Normal). Yesterday, notsomuch. I was tired, like REALLY bone-weary tired all day. I don't even remember what I did....Oh yes I do! Nothing much important. That's what I did. Today, this morning as I stare into my coffee cup and sigh because there's no one here to refill it for me, kinda feeling tired again.
There's a balance I have to find in here. It's important to recognize and allow feelings to happen. Shoving them down and pretending they aren't there is a recipe for disaster. I've tried that in the past, and the results were ugly. They came out in other ways...migraine headaches, rashes, behavioral explosions. I was told by my doctor to not do that. Let them happen, but don't wallow in them for too long. As for the definition of "too long", I'd have to figure that one out. "Find an outlet" he instructed. And that's why I write.
After Himself died February 2015, and then #3's car accident May 2018, I coped by writing. Those are links to the blog I was writing at the time, beginning with each event. I've been writing for ages, since I was a child. Putting things in a written word allows me to process what's happening. I can re-read what's written down and remember clearly the events, and how I coped with them. It allows me to talk to God and feel like I'm making sense. While I know God understands even when I don't, it's important for me to wrap my mind around what's going on, and see it from a more eternal perspective, more of an "Ok, now what" and less of a "Why O Why is this happening to O Poor Me!"
For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways.
Isaiah 55:8-9
Shit happens to all of us. Someone we love dies. Someone else is injured, or suffers a debilitating disease. Our plans are radically, unexpectedly, and permanently changed. I know I hate it when that happens, especially when I see someone I love being the first-hand sufferer. I can handle personal suffering. A thing hurts, or something on my body quits working...whatever. That's no big deal to me. But if someone I love dies, has a life-altering car accident, suffers a permanent disability...I get mad and want to fight. I pray for God to lift that burden from their lives...at least at first. God's got His plans for that person.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
Philippians 4:6
Capt suffered, for a long time. Months. He had COVID in early 2020 and never quite recovered. He tried to return to Normal, but his health wasn't the same. Then he became sicker and no one could figure out why, and for 9 months he slowly slid downhill. And I got mad, not at him, but at the circumstances that took my lively, cheerful, indomitable man away from me. Then he blew up and spent a week in the hospital surrounded by people who said there wasn't anything they could do, and he was gone. And I'm mad about that. I can't say my life was ruined, although my plans sure were. I'm beyond thankful that Capt knew God in a very real and lovely way. He was by no means a perfect man, but he had that. God didn't lift the burden of poor health from Capt, not in the way I wanted Him to. But He did lift it.
As the mountains surrounded Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds His people both now and forevermore.
Psalm 125:2
I'm handling this whole situation one day at a time. Yesterday, I was tired, lonely, sad, and angry all at the same time. Then, there was a box on my doorstep. A dear friend sent me a lovely gift to remind me to take care of myself. And I did. She gave me permission to take a day and not worry about the field that needs mowing, or the stack of papers that need filing, or the closet full of Capt's clothes that need going through. If you know someone who's dealing with a heavy load of grief, send them something fun, that gives them permission to take care of themselves. The rest of that stuff....the tall grass, the papers, the shirts....that'll be fine.
Oh I remember what I did yesterday! I went to the Farmer's market and bought Fall vegetables. A butternut squash, beets, a turnip, a couple of chayote. I'd seen a recipe for Butternut squash soup, and that led to a plan for roasted root vegetables, which morphed into a memory of a discussion about tinola manok- a Philipino chicken-ginger soup that has chayote in it. More self-care. Nutritious food, time in the kitchen, and probably sharing it (always nice!) Now I don't know what to make first.
I think that it is wonderful that you write it all out - hopefully cathartic, but also your words are so - I am trying to find the right words, forgive me. I would say beautiful, but they are also full and evocative and gritty. I feel for your grief but I also rejoice in your ability to put it down so eloquently. Maybe eloquent is the word I wanted?!
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