It just hit me…(that happens a lot lately) death is like birth. We count our losses in hours, days, weeks, months, years. We honor milestones without our loved ones – like first holidays (every single one of the first, the first birthday, the first 4th of July, the first Thanksgiving, you see where I am going I’m sure).
Just like the reasoning behind the baby milestones, I need, yes NEED, the reminders, the proof that I am moving forward, one step at a time. Sometimes those are hard steps to take, lonely steps to take. I can feel myself put my foot out to go forward, only to hesitate as the fear makes me tremble. But what are my choices at this point? I can put that foot back down and remain frozen in this very day. I can fall down because I couldn’t decide backwards or forwards and then I end up hurting more than I already do. (Did that make you giggle? It did me.) Or … I can take a deep breath and know forward is the only way I can go. It isn’t a race. I am not competing with anyone to see who gets there first. Somedays it might be a slow steady meandering… other days it might be a sprint! Who knows as long as it is forward motion.
I do not move forward alone. With each step I have taken so far, Mark has been with me. He has either taken my hand while I stumble or maybe he has even pushed me forward part of the time. I have even heard his voice once or twice telling me not just to take that step but RUN in a specific direction. An example of that happened Sunday while I was mowing. I was thinking I should get the mower tuned/cleaned up, blades sharpened, etc -maybe even get the Goos guys to explain a bit about the mower. Silly isn’t it? But, in one of my early posts, I said the mower has become my person. I need it to last. I was thinking of the cost (how much could it possibly be?) and the breeze kicked in and I literally heard him whisper “it’d be worth it”. Nothing more, nothing less. So I made that call Monday morning. One step confidently forward.
So today, I struggled through the knowledge 3 months have passed. I welcomed the day with a good cry in grief counseling. I kept a stiff upper lip at work until a coworker from another office- Denise- told me she reads these and I inspire her (me?). I made it through to lunch where Michelle KNEW my heart was hurting. Aren’t I a lucky girl knowing I can go into MY Bandana’s where my server is truly my friend and will just let me cry? Ok, she didn’t just LET me cry, she cried with me but that is Michelle for you. Tonight, I actually made dinner for myself at home, first “meal” cooked in this house since Mark died. I cried the entire time I was cooking but it was the BEST BLT and mac N cheese I have ever had. Tears are great flavor enhancers!
I know, while this IS my story, this is NOT just my journey. If you are taking the time to read this, it is your journey, too. So, if you are up to it and understand I might do a lot of leaning on you, take my hand and let’s walk forward… together!
PS: Bring tissues just in case- I am a bit unpredictable!