Sometimes I Wish...

Sometimes I just wish I could go back. Back to life before grief, back to life before being a widow. Back to life before moving, back to life before pandemics shook the world. I'd like to go back and have more days with my dogs Mickey, Mr. Hanky, and Hobbs. I'd like to go back to when my kids were little and held my hand while crossing the street. Back to when the hard choices were what to have for bed time snacks and which book to read them. Because some days it just all feels so hard. I feel like I've given up everything, and yet, I know it's not true. I have gone through a lot, lost a lot, made lots of changes. With that comes feelings which are intense and overwhelming. Luckily they are also fluid and transitional.

This is a hard time in life. Uncharted, with no clear end in sight. And...I am, we are shaken by it, emotional because of it. So naturally, I look back some. Because I know what that looks like. Even when it is full of longing, full of pain. It's hard to know, at this time in life, what to look forward to. The struggle is real, and we have to accept that it is. 

It's okay to be exceptionally weepy. I, known for being a world class weeper, find myself in tears daily. It's okay, it's just where I am in life. I find myself worrying more. Do I need to? No, I know there is a larger plan in motion. I know I will be blessed beyond measure. Yet, in this time, I worry because I am human. This season in our lives is full of human moments.

You may find you can't sleep, or can't eat. Or can't stop eating. You comb the news for information, and are appalled when you find it. Or you stay away from all the news because it is just too overwhelming. You may pray unceasingly, or struggle in finding comfort in prayer. 

I look back because, compared to now, those were simpler times. We need some simple in these complex days. We need faith more than ever, we need hope in both tiny doses and in large increments. We need to trust that this is temporary.

So I tend the grief, of both the past and the present like I would nurture a small child. With tender arms to hold her, with acceptance that whatever she feels is valid and needs some light to heal it. With a gentle hug, and an I love you no matter what. A soft blanket of love to curl up in and a reminder it won't always feel this way. Be kind to yourself, we're going through a hard time. It's okay to not be okay...and this too shall pass.