I have always loved fall 🍁

One of our favorite seasons as a family, with the chilly mornings, vibrant colors, coffee, fire pits, pumpkin patches, fall festivals, Halloween and, of course, Thanksgiving.

I find it amazing how our bodies and souls, so deeply connected, remember the injuries inflicted on them, as soon as the weather starts to turn.

September 2023. Back-to-School Night for our son’s freshman year of high school. I didn’t know it then, but it was the beginning of the end for my love and for our family of four.

As we were walking around the school, meeting with teachers, somehow he sat down on the floor and couldn’t get up. I tried to help and couldn’t. People were walking around, looking at us with confused looks on their faces. I was terrified.

He was smiling and reassuring me, his speech slurred by the tumor pressing on the language center of his brain. I walked a little farther, even more terrified. When I came back around, he was up, with a big smile and a thumbs-up.

“See? I told you, everything is OK,” he said.

And it was all cruel, traumatic and terrifying until December 3rd, when he took his last breath. It will be three years this December. Some things are better, but a lot of things are still really hard for me.

It reminds me of a quote that has stuck with me. And forgive me if I’ve mentioned it before, but you know… widow brain. 🙃 It’s from the show Sorry for Your Loss, starring Elizabeth Olsen as a young widow. A year or so after her husband’s death, she has a bathroom-floor moment and says:

“Like an idiot, I still believed that the worst of this nightmare was over.”

I feel like that so often.

I know that subconsciously, I thought the worst was him dying. But the worst is living without him. Parenting without him. Making decisions, big and small, without him. Trying to find joy in life without him.

I have spent the past few days down in the dumps, wishing again that I could curl up in bed and wake up 10 years from now. But as we know, as a solo parent, I can’t.

I have felt so deeply alone these days. Grief feels so isolating. The anxiety is up. The energy is down. The flashbacks are back with a vengeance. With the next few months being so heavy for us, I am working with my grief therapist to honor what is and reframe what is reframable.🍃

Back-to-School Night is tomorrow for both kids. Instead of trying to run around, hoping to make it to both, I’ve decided to go to our daughter’s only and email our son’s teachers. He’s cool with that.

I’ve been thinking about what I need to do for myself. How I can care for me during such a tender time. I think I’m going to google it or something. My thinking system is down.

I don’t know what exactly yet. But I know it will start with a cup of coffee. ☕️

 

Hasta la próxima! Until next weekPeace.