There is no footprint too small to leave an imprint on this world.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

My Waiting Place

Last year I thought it would be the worst year of them all. Our wounds and pain were so raw and fresh and new. But there was a lot of learning, love and progression in that first year of losing Jane. Our lows were very low, but in contrast our highs were very high. 

I haven't written much on here lately because I haven't felt inspired by anything that I felt would be worthwhile. Like I said, last year we grew and learned a lot. I had a lot of things running through my brain all the time. 

I suppose it was naive to think last year was just one to get through and we would have made it through the worst of it all. 

Last year was trying to find our new normal. It was like trying to survive without a limb. It was a very difficult adjustment, but made easier through many inspiring tender mercies, many prayers in our behalf, many notes and texts and messages of love and concern.

This year is just as hard but in a different and unexpected way. I feel like I'm stuck in some painful waiting place. Just stagnant. Jane feels farther and farther in the past but also even further into our future. We are stuck somewhere in the middle waiting for her. Our wounds aren't as fresh but they are still there. Very much so. Our limb is still missing and we have learned to manage without it, but life is still painful and difficult. A part of me misses the pain, because at least I felt alive. And it was always followed by powerful moments of feeling Jane near. 
This murky waiting place is more numb. Less acute pain, but also less acute joy. 

I have noticed in the last few months I, again, am a person I don't recognize. This "waiting place" has left me unsure of who I am, what I am supposed to do and how to deal with this new me. Is it a phase that will get better with time or is my character different? These are the questions that take up most of my brain lately. How to find and force progression in myself and my life despite feeling stuck.

Navigating through grief is messy. There are so, so many levels of grief. Many twists, turns and backslides. It's hard to distinguish what is grief, what is depression, what is pregnancy, and what is just the dross of everyday life. This is my great battle right now. I suppose finding my "new normal" is going to take a lot longer than expected. 

I refuse to settle though. I refuse to believe this is how my life will be forever. I know better and I deserve better. One of my dearest friends shared with me how important remembering is. In these stagnant times of my life, I have a hard time seeing beyond a fog surrounding me. I can always remember who I was in the past. My experiences who made me who I am now. The powerful and sacred instances that my Savior and Heavenly Father were so close to my heart that I knew there was much more in this life yet to come. ""O, remember remember..."