Yesterday was a struggle. Not the normal struggle of just getting up and getting through the day. No, yesterday I had to go school with Jacob. Sit in the cafeteria, eat lunch with him and a hundred plus 2nd graders.
Being the Indian of the week is an honor each child gets. They get to invite one person to eat lunch with them. Jonathan had chosen his daddy. Jacob, me.
I made it through without incident, no tears, no breakdowns. Luckily no one said much of anything to me. I slipped in, ate my sandwich, slipped out.
Grief is such an odd thing, sometimes the strangest ideas stick with you. Yes, I’m glad I was able to slide through the half hour virtually unnoticed, but then a small part of me feels like that petulant child, stomping her foot and saying – hey, someone acknowledge me please.
Like a second personality, grief plants ideas in my head that are not my own.
Then I had to pick Zachary up from Preschool. Listening to the Grandmothers chat about how they have no patience to handle their grandchildren, left me with a sour taste in my mouth. I wanted to shout at them – be thankful you have those grandchildren to drive you crazy.
Instead I found myself standing there with tears in my eyes, wondering how I was ever going to make it through this near-daily crazy.
My morning adventures left me drained, so after Zachary ate his lunch, he and I took a much deserved nap. I woke up just in time for the boys to get home from school and to get dinner going.
I hate how I don’t feel in control of anything. Of my thoughts, of my actions. I hate how grief has become my constant companion and I’m at the mercy of my tears.
I hate the isolation and emptiness that my mind imposes on me. I hate the waiting. Waiting for “it” to get better. As if “it” was just a tiny paper-cut that that needed to knit itself back together, instead of a gaping wound that hasn’t even begun to scab over.
I hate it because I fear it. I fear life may never get better. I fear I will always feel this desperation to exist. As if simply existing was ever the goal in life.
I hate how a freak turn of events shifted my entire world and I am helpless to shift it back.
I hate grief and everything it manifests.