Sunday, July 26, 2015

From the Depths of the Drowning, That We May Reach Land

I haven't written since April? That doesn't surprise me all that much, summer has been action packed and flown by. Bullet points then:

  • I started my own business! Go take a look and then book an order
  • I also got a new job as the office manager for local Modern Woodmen of America financial representative Lisa Minardi. So if you need insurance or magic money help (cause seriously, she's amazing...), I can hook you up with that too!
  • The kids are in Jujitsu 3 days a week, 2 separate youth groups & Ozzie's just finished up football conditioning, which trained twice a week. They each went to camp, went out of state for a big family vacation and we got to go to our beloved family camping trip with dear friends this year. I have basically been a taxi service for a lot of it (shout out to my parents, who also get in on the taxi rotation) and my kindle and TED talks on my phone have been my best friends. I joke about it a lot, but I'm thrilled that they are busy and happy. 
  • Ozzie has caught the fishing bug from his Papa and Uncle's and is bugging me for rides to the river constantly. Ivy gave it a try and decided books, crafting and AC are more her speed (takes after her Mum). 
Things have been for the most part good, just like life I guess. This Fathers Day was certainly more sweet than bitter. We got Jason a balloon, wrote notes to him and tied them to the string, went out to our spot and each told a favorite memory, said a prayer, shouted an "I LOVE YOU!" and released it into the sky. There were tears, but mostly memories, and the knife didn't cut quite so deep.

A couple of significant things have happened for me.

I think, 2 years and 5 months later, that I am finally in a place where I have accepted that he is gone. If you have never experienced loss this may seem silly or even dumbfounding. "Yeah, of course he's gone. He's dead. What did you think happened?" Well, prior to Jason's death, I would have been right there with you. 

I always liked to think I was a very practical, pragmatic person, who could be faced with a setback or problem and simply take a minute and then take stock and either begin again or look for a solution. I know now that facing how very much I am actually not like that began 6 years ago, when I was diagnosed with a rare birth defect/kidney disease. I thought I could simply do what I always did and knuckle through, ignoring it until it took me down. Instead it began slowly chipping away at  my health in a way that has left me battered and abused by the medical system and questioning my own sanity. It has also led me to a place where I now know that doctors have only this tiny little finite amount of help to offer. I am chronically ill and in pain every single moment of the day and I am the only one who can make a good life out of that fact. It is very difficult to know that, but so freeing at the same time. I trust God and I am trying to care for myself as he/she would. 

So, where were we? Ah, acceptance. Well, yes. It's taken a lot of hits, awful losses, huge and tiny ones, a lot of times where I felt punched in the gut and I simply didn't want to get up to realize that much of what I blustered and built up as practical was actually denial, deflection. Pushing things down and putting them off. Dealing only with the now when an eye on the tomorrow would really have been the brave  move. You can see something with your own eyes, you can speak it, you can live without someone... but in your heart and soul, you still may not accept it. It may take a really long time. And it REALLY hurts when you finally do. But until you do, you cannot begin to heal. 

Which leads to another part of acceptance. I think the night I made the first move toward acceptance was when I was finally able to verbalize why I was stuck where I was. It was something that hadn't even really been a fully formed thought in my head... but when I said it out loud it was one of those "Oh Shit!" moments, where you gasp and shock yourself with your own truth. My mom and I were talking, err, she was talking and I was sobbing, and she asked me why I didn't think I deserved to have a happy life. Because I was (and sometimes still am, working on it) convinced that I didn't. That I would raise my kids to be happy, healthy adults and then I could just fade away somehow?! And I said it "Because that would mean I didn't love him enough!" Sad. And not true. Even I know that and I'm just like Jon Snow. 

So, those two things kind of lifted the darkness for me a bit. Enough to give me some momentum. I'm doing good work, physically, emotionally, spiritually. I'm trying, and I''m happier than I was. And I know THAT is what Jason would want, because that is what he always wanted when he was here.