I don't like it! I don't like living in a world without her! Allow me the luxury to stomp my foot and shake my fist in the air, and have a bit of a temper tantrum, even an ugly, nasty pity party! I don't like not having Jeanette here to talk to, to laugh with, to argue and have loud discussions with, to be silly, to go places, to watch movies, to talk about TV shows...all these things and more! I miss her!
I worry about things I never used to worry about. My frustration threshold is very low, even after all these months. It feels like I'm carrying--physically carrying--a heavy burden. I'm tired all the time, even after a good night's sleep. I have aches and pains for no reason. I get so little accomplished, even though I have plenty of time. I'm not usually so disorganized. I'm not usually late for things.
Hasn't it been long enough? Shouldn't I be getting beyond some of these things by now? As a matter of fact, in many ways it has been getting better, and I do have many good days. I guess that's why I feel surprise when I land in the swampland of despair again. I manage to be upbeat and positive a good portion of the time, but then I get overwhelmed with the sadness of just plain missing her. It's hard to get used to living in a world without her.
In writing about my grief journey, it is tempting to not be truly honest and transparent. Isn't part of my purpose to offer hope in the things I choose to share? Yes, but hope that glosses over the down-in-the-dirt battles with the pain of grief is not real hope. So, today I'm owning my grief. It hurts! I want to scream! I want to kick something or slam a door! And, then I'll probably take a nap because of the energy expended in having a tantrum.
My best outlet for emotions is neither tantrums nor slamming doors. It's in writing I find respite. In releasing my emotions, I make room for hope in my heart. I make room for peace. Light replaces dark moods as I write. Writing is the language God speaks in my heart.
Writing is how I live in a world without her. Not everyone writes. Some people draw or paint. Not everyone is an artist. Some people garden. Not everyone is a gardener. Some people walk or dance or do yoga. Me doing yoga? Now, there's a picture! The point being, grieving people should have an outlet. If we slammed all our doors, they'd soon be off their hinges. How do you live in a world without your loved one? What's your respite?
Sara Faith Nelson
Sharing the journey, because, I find there are so many others making the trek through life without a loved one