A rainy, cloudy, crappy day.
No sunshine in sight. Only the rumble of distant thunder.
And I am thankful for it.
I don't know why I take comfort in days like this (In January I'm sure I'll be whistling a different tune). Maybe because I won't feel guilty staying in my pajamas all day, picking up the house, and just generally doing nothing.
Except thinking about Will.
The last day it stormed here was the night before he was born...if only we would have known what exactly was to come. It was such a beautiful storm front that the picture above I took from my hospital room. Our friends were visiting from CA, but of course they were up at Mackinac Island this night, and were so disappointed they missed the storm. Hmm.
What is that saying?
"The calm before the storm"
Yeah, well, those 8 weeks in the hospital were anything but calm.
Physically, yes, because I was a prisoner in a tiny room and leaving it meant I was in a wheelchair.
But emotionally and spiritually, the storm was already raging (just ask my nurses).
Now its just been a hurricane since. Full force.
But at least yesterday was calm. I could function and think without feeling an anxiety attack coming on. I have moments when I think of Will and my throat feels like its closing and my chest hurts and my nose and eyes sting with tears. Those are my least favorite times...
Yesterday was different though.
I woke up and read my devotional and started a new routine. Every morning I write to Will in a journal. I don't care if that sounds crazy or what...it helps. And I have found that I have a lot to say to him...and I realized that I have been beating myself up with a lot of regrets and feeling of guilt about so many things.
When I write it out to him, it eases those feelings.
And by letting myself get it all out, first thing, means the volcano won't blow later in the day.
I'm not fighting it any more. I know I will cry. So I let it come. No more stuffing it deep down and hoping I can make it through one day without shedding a tear.
By doing this, I found the last two days I have actually felt okay...
I was able to meet a new friend and talk about Will and her loses, all without completely breaking down.
And I was able to sign up for a yoga class that is going to start on Will's due date...and not get a deep bitter feeling.
And I was able to set some personal work goals for myself and actually feel a twinge of motivation when I thought about what I could achieve...and not get that feeling of not caring at all.
Through it all, life and everything else has to continue. Even if I don't want it to without Will here. So I can either fight it or take a deep breath and learn how to adapt to this new life I've been given.
Small steps. Steps of faith...that I have to trust there is a purpose.