Saturday marked eight weeks since Peyton passed. It doesn't sound like a long time. The number of weeks that has passed is still in the single digits after all. Yet it seems so long ago. I feel like our family has been uprooted and thrown to the ground with the expectation that somehow our roots will find their way back into the soil to allow us to flourish again as a new family of three instead of four.
The problem is that there is no timeframe on how long this process should be. In fact, some of us may find themselves becoming rooted before others. I wouldn't say that's happening yet. Although, I would say that Moira appears to be closer to it than either Ron or myself. I feel like we are just supposed to know how to do this on our own. I'm sure we will figure it out in time. It will require lots of time.
It's so surreal having come through a nearly seven year season of busyness - of caregiving 24/7 - to be thrown suddenly into a season of grief and quiet. I have felt, at times, like I'm supposed to be searching for a cause. The truth is that that "cause" needs to be "me" right now. "Us". It's a time for healing. I'm not used to stopping to take care of "me". It doesn't feel right. However, the reality is that I have been neglecting "me" for a while. In the past few weeks, I've been to the chiropractor several times. I've been to the dentist - and have a few more of those appointments lined up. I have seen a sleep specialist and even had a sleep study. I have a couple other doctor appointments lined up. Aside from the inability to sleep well or get enough sleep or even feel remotely close to being rested, I am ok. I'm just trying to take care of myself now.
I feel that, for the most part, I have been doing alright. However, the past week has been really rough for me. I can't explain how or when emotions will come crashing down on me like a wave. They just do. Those waves have been bigger and more frequent lately. I feel sometimes like I need to apologize for how I'm feeling...but I shouldn't have to.
I have moments where I have to keep busy. If I don't, my mind goes in to overdrive and I can't stop seeing certain memories. If I keep busy, it puts those off. For a time. I have moments where I have no energy for anything. I have moments which are relatively "normal". I think one of the hardest parts of the grief process is not knowing moment to moment what's next...how I'm supposed to feel in certain situations or in certain moments.
We also have moments, as a family, where we are doing things together. We've had more interaction with friends and neighbors than we have had in a while. And this is good. It helps. Granted, there are times when I don't feel up for doing things, and that is ok too. I hope it isn't taken personally. There are just times when I need space.
I took a rather large step yesterday in that I began working in Peyton's room, starting with her closet. Friends, let me tell you something. It is one thing to clean out your child's room in an effort to organize, clean and make things look better. It is quite another to pull clothes off their hangers, box things up, and "organize" because your child is gone and is never coming back. I will just leave it at that.
As for today and the coming days, I am just trusting in God to lead me through this time. I know He will and I know that there are good things happening and that they will continue to happen. I know that in the days and weeks ahead there will be more goodness - or, at least, they will be easier to see and experience. I am grateful to Him and I am grateful to friends who are standing with us during this time.