This moment...

Well...I can't say that I'm surprised. It's been so long. I felt a tug to write. A need to gather my thoughts in one place and free them from spinning in my head. maybe a moment of peace. Two days until THE day and it's been so long. I feel very old, worn, beaten down, weak, tired, weary...I feel a little raw. I don't really know the words or even the point of writing but as Friday draws near I keep thinking about this blog. it was my safe place. I could pour out my heart and scream for freedom from worry and it was healing and therapeutic. so much has changed and I carry the heavy weight of burdens I need to release and maybe that's why i'm here. My heart is very afraid to let anyone in. it's been trampled on. there's no one to blame but myself. I am in charge of my own life...my choices, my reactions, my thoughts, my worries...and i'm slowly learning to release control of things that really I have no control over anyway. I never really did.
i'm not perfect. but no one is.
I've made mistakes. but we all have.
 I've lived behind masks and built walls so high they could be seen from space, and where did it get me?
Here.
right here.
in this exact place in this exact moment.
and in this moment, i'm not perfect...but i'm ok.
i'm unsure where to begin and where i'm headed. but I've learned its ok. it's not about knowing...it's about learning on the journey. being open to the process.
grief is hard work. it's long term. I am convinced it is never ending...we simply have to accept the ups and downs. some days are good and some days rock me to the core. but hiding behind a smile doesn't make me strong...facing the emotion and allowing myself permission to feel...that is strength. it is genuine.  a fake smile is temporary. and it doesn't cover the deep pain in my heart.
I love to talk about him...but I can see the pain it causes the other person. It's a delicate balance. He's real and is very loved and important to me...and I love to share that. I do infact have four kids...just one beat me to the finish line. he's still there though...waiting for us all to catch up. that reality is hard for others to hear though, and it's normal. It would hurt my heart to hear matter-of-factly that a child has died. please understand just because the words now come from my lips without tears...don't mistake that for being ok. i'm far from ok. I've accepted it. I deal with it. I don't wear the grief on my face all the time as I did for so long. and I don't share it with everyone. I protect him. me. how can I possibly put that pain into words that anyone can understand? as time passes we forget more and more of the little moments...and we remember and easily recall very pronounced moments. I can't recall all the little joys of the days we spent together...we were together every day. for seven years. I remember select moments. and those ones tear me up. his last day is engrained in my memory. there are other significant memories as well...but this time of year...my mind goes to that day. and it hurts like hell. but it's ok. it needs to. pain means it was real. and it was. he was. he is. we are.
I've allowed the words of others to add to the pain of the process. life has become unsteady the last few years and everything I knew to be is no longer. I've been pushed to find my own strength. take personal responsibility for my life and for believing the lies or pushing them aside and finding my worth in Christ. it's a daily battle. just like grief...it is long term. with the unsteadiness I've been in it's made me question so much. I've been stripped down to absolutely nothing. which is ok. i'm not yet that radiant butterfly...hell i'm not even that slimy caterpillar. I've finally allowed god to push me into the cocoon and I can't escape it until I learn who I am. whose I am. my purpose. my value. I've stopped fighting the process. I don't always believe it's for my good and many days I am just breathing and hanging on. but...I know I will make it. I don't see the light at the end of the tunnel...it's been the worlds longest dark tunnel. but gods giving me little skylights on the way. little moments of love and joy and light. and that is enough.
i'm very intentional with my life. who I talk to...who I no longer. who I listen to...who I no longer believe. while my entire life is evolving and has been so drastic...one constant has been god. even when I didn't reach out to him...he provided the right people at the right time for the right moment in my journey to help me thru. I don't have the answers and I don't clearly know how this all will end...or my exact path. but I know that I will be ok.

but....

right now...
i'm not ok.

everyday is a battle. a new challenge. a new opportunity to continue to believe the lies or rest in the truth. I have made choices that resulted in consequences that thrust me into a life very unfamiliar...but I am redeemed. Words of others have crushed my spirit and made me doubt who I am...but I am worth more than gold.  I get angry at times that I can't hold him in my arms and I see him in my dreams often and I yearn for more...but I haven't really lost him. I've simply lost perspective...and i'm getting that back in line...slowly...but I will.

It's the morning of the day that precedes "the" day and I am just unsure how I feel. Kind of hollow. Kind of alright. I'm joyful for the love that is still very real and breathing, though he is not. I smile when I think back to moments we shared along the way...he taught me how to be a mom. He would pick me flowers, help me clean, sing songs to God, line up his cars in a very particular order not to be disrupted...he always kissed me, always held my hand, always told me he loved me, always trusted me to care for him, always showed me grace when I would let my impatience get the better of me, he would lay with me on the couch and stretch his arm back and play with my hair...it was all very different. He took good care of me.

where do you go when you don't know whats genuine any longer? I've been struggling greatly with a very gripping battle with anxiety and panic. it's rooted in control and a need to cling onto predictability and protect myself from hurting any longer. for the first time I feel very vulnerable and very weak. but in my new awareness of the situation in me I feel a small sense of strength as well. I know i'm not ok...but i'm aware. I believe we can't change what we don't truly acknowledge...and hell...i'm aware I need to let go. I used to build walls around myself to protect from pain...when C died I worked for years to break them all down. I was tired of not feeling. and now...I can't build walls up any longer...I won't allow it. so instead, I try to control situations like i'm a puppeteer and everything's attached to my strings. and it's not realistic. so instead of giant walls, I find myself in episodes of anxiety and panic. i'm far from healed. but I feel now my battle is learning to fully let go. there's no way to get around pain and there's no way to control anyone or anything but myself. and I need to let go. no walls. no panic. no anxiety. I've cried more in the last two years than probably ever before in my life because I've been learning a whole new way of living.
who I am.
who I am not.
what I stand for.
what I will not stand for.
and I have to learn that it's ok. I don't have to settle for anything. I have a choice in every situation. how I will feel...how I will react...what I will allow...who I listen to...what words I let penetrate my heart...which words I will ignore...
I had no idea 6 years ago after he was taken from my shaking arms that night I would be thrown on a journey as heart wrenching and difficult as this. that the walls would fall down and the steady ground beneath me would turn to shifting sand...but it has. and I owe it to Conner to keep myself on this journey...to honor who I am supposed to be...go where i'm supposed to go...love the way i'm designed to love...to be the very best I can be...for whomever i'm supposed to be with...and honor the boy who changed it all
i'll never be the same.
but I know i'll be ok.