The thirty-something mother of four, trying to get by raising her babies, trying to raise them well, with faith. Does anyone want to hear me talk about the breath stealing pain that still exists sometimes even now, two and a half years after my Little Mama flew home? The guilt that comes with coming to joy again after the valley of sorrow. The irrational "how can we be okay without her", "are we really okay", "why do things have to change", "how can things not change", "I am changed but I want to be the same". Does anyone really need to read the jumbled thoughts of a grieving mother that is far enough out from her tragedy that it feels like the worlds forgotten? Does anyone really need to hear me?
But then, I am still surprised that anyone reads here at all. This is just my space... And these words are my therapy.
I am joyful, but guarded. I am so blessed, but it's a hard story to tell. A lot of what I'm thinking now I struggle to get to the page... Because this is a public forum. And maybe I don't want everyone to know what I'm really thinking. Because sometimes it is not very nice. And sometimes it's just really boring.
I don't want to let this go though... It's still the journey, but our struggles are different. Instead of being the mother of a child with a terrible illness and helping her to live that well; I am the mother of three little girls whose sister is gone. And I am a mother trying to help myself and them carry on, being as healthy as possible. Answering hard questions, comforting tiny souls that didn't know their sister but grieve anyway. It is a much different place and I am a much different me. My husband is a different man, and we are a different family. And that has to be okay... And if what I have to say is not very nice, or it is really boring, or it makes no sense that is okay. Because it's more for me than anything and I think I'm saner when I let go of the words...
No comments:
Post a Comment