On December 31, 2011, I wrote a journal entry that is filled
with pain and sorrow. Reading it earlier this week made my heart physically ache in memory of those early days after Scott
died. I was pleading with God to make
2012 a better year than 2011 or even to let me go home to Heaven because I wasn’t
sure I wanted to go on living. I wrote
empty words of hope that the coming year would be better but you can hear the doubt between
each line. You might wonder why I looked
back-am I stupid (sometimes)? It is the first time I’ve
gone back and actually read anything I wrote during that first year. I was asked to share my grief testimony but I am out of town so I wrote it.
To start, I looked back to my journal from four years ago. My first Christmas without Scott had just recently passed
and I was looking New Years in the face-with no hope, happiness or joy.
Well, after reading those old entries and writing my thoughts
about grief I find myself with a pep in step this afternoon. I’ve been reflecting on this past Christmas
and I am again looking New Year’s in the nose!
But, this time it is with anticipation and hope and yes, even JOY! When you are moving forward at a snail’s pace
it is hard to see the progress you might be making. I know my heart remembers the pain vividly
but thankfully, my brain has learned to put most of the pain aside, most days
anyway.
This past Christmas was the best I’ve had since Scott
died it was filled with love, fun and laughs. We were able to talk about a “new
normal” Christmas and how we want it to be in the future. I found myself looking forward to celebrating with
friends and family.


Rich and I had
wonderful vacation driving across part of Route 66. We visited friends in Colorado and just had a
splendid time! The family we visited
includes one of Scott’s dearest friend’s, going to see the new Star Wars movie,
snowboarding, and just relaxing. I was
nervous I’d be an emotional wreck but it was fun, light, and we had some
wonderful conversations about Scott too. But, the whole trip was AWESOME.

Then, on the way home, rushing to make it home on December 22
nd
so I could finish up my shopping and get the house ready for company “it”
happened. The BIG Christmas meltdown…it
happened when we hit bad weather and had to take an extra day to drive
home. I was devastated and sobbed (okay,
it was an ugly cry) in our hotel room.
Rich felt awful that he couldn’t get me home like I wanted and couldn’t
comfort me. I think he knew it really
had nothing to do with an extra day but everything to do with Scott. It had been a few months since the last one
and the most intense by far in recent history!

But, the next morning we were on the road and I was feeling
refreshed and ready to celebrate. I didn’t
look it with swollen eyes and a red nose but I did feel it! I can remember driving across boring Nevada
(sorry, to my Nevadan friends…it IS the loneliest highway) and thinking, “am I
okay, am I really okay”? Shopping,
cleaning, and baking commenced on Christmas Eve with joy and focus. We went to Marissa’s and celebrated-I felt
Scott was happy that we were joyous. The Christmas carols only made me
happy-didn’t make me cry and I found myself seeking them out on the radio. That day, only a few things that made me sigh
and long to hear/see his reaction to things but all in all, I think I wore a
smile for the whole day!
Marissa and Matt hosted and I was able to help cook-it was a super day!

Now, looking at the New Year, I am filled with wonder and
excitement. I have a great guy to share
my adventure whether it is good or bad.
I know it will be filled “Scott Signs” just to remind me that he is “here”
just not physically. My nose will itch
at the oddest moments reminding me that my Mom is never far away either. Beyond that, I know that I will share
beautiful moments with my girl, Marissa, and relish in watching her become a
beautiful strong woman! I also know I will be continually graced by meeting new people on this journey to walk along side and learn from.
If you are in an different season of grief, I pray for your
heart continually. I pray that you will
find your footing and your own way to seek joy again. It is out there-different than before-but it
is there. Remember that your timeline is not my timeline and that you have the privilege to grieve in your own way and honor your loved one in your your own way too.
I'm thankful to have read this entry. I'm 2 years, 2 months and 9 days after losing our 19-year-old daughter. I can set grief aside most of the time, put on a mask when I need to, but then there are triggers, some just out of the blue. I have those ugly cries that typically have nothing to do with whatever starts them. For instance, yesterday I was fishing with my husband and my thumb ran across the inside of my arm near my wrist. Just in that instant, my mind flashes back to being in the hospital with her, holding her hands and thinking how soft her skin was and how I just wanted her to wake up. That's all it took. Feeling soft skin, flashback, meltdown. I've had my blog published (was never, ever my intention), but you may (or may not) want to check into it. It's on Amazon under the title Soul Shaken. God bless you as you move forward in your grief/new normal, snail pace or sprint.
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