I can feel the surge of the wave of grief. The tide pulling me out, under, sucking the breathe out of me and causing my heart to race. This is what happens when the past overwhelms me. It has become even more difficult to deal with as my brain tries to understand celebrating a present and a future while mourning a past. Sometimes those events overlap.
This week marked 2 years ago that I met the boy. Two wonderful, growing, and enriching years. This week also marks the week that Kevin would be turning 40. Overlapping events of a present, a future and a past.
My heart is knotting up today. It started when I was driving and saw an identical car to the one Kevin drove. A man inside with a similar haircut and jacket to Kev. Don’t get me wrong, I knew it wasn’t Kev, but that didn’t mean my brain and heart and everything inside me didn’t go “oh my word.” Because it did.
I want to choose me and my future. I want that to win out over grief. This week, it’s hard to make those two priority.
I want to escape. I want to drive down to the bay or the ocean and feel immersed in grief and the memory of Kev. I want to choose that.
But I also want to go to Easter dinner with my family and the boy. I want to pick up my new-to-me motorcycle. I want to paint and help the boy around his house. I want to choose that.
My brain and heart are conflicted. I want to honor and remember the past, and in some ways, get caught up in that. But I also want to get on with happiness.
Some days the past seems safer. I know what will hold me at the bay or the ocean. I know what it will do to me and I know the pain that will increase if I do that. It’s almost a safe comfort, that pain.
I don’t know what happiness lies ahead if I choose me, my future. It may not feel as comfortable.
But I do know that it will be better for my heart to create a new memory and a new comfort. It may even help pull me out of the tide that’s pulling me under today.
I want to choose me.
You have no idea how much I needed to read this today. Thank you.
Thanks Amber 🙂
You’re more than welcome Wendy. It’s probably as healing to me to write it, as it is to you to read it.