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Thursday, August 27, 2009

On a random, normal day

Today started off just like any other day this week. I woke before the sun, laced up my Asics and logged in a good six miles. I think we're well on our way to being ready for the 13.1 we'll be doing on Halloween morning. It has been good to be back in training mode - the best motivation I know of to staying focused and committed. I slacked a little on my stretching when I got home because I was immediately distracted with fixing my bike's flat front tire. I was feeling all handy and skilled starting my day with such productive-like activities. 

Then, at some point mid-morning, a wave of sadness washed over me. I recognized it and felt it, but suppressed it because I had an important meeting that I needed to be focused for. I didn't really have time to melt and then pull myself back together in time. It probably would have been better to have had a good release beforehand, since I was basically only in the meeting physically. I hope it wasn't totally obvious to the others there.

It wasn't until mid-afternoon, while making myself half of a PB&J that I couldn't even subconsciously hold it in any longer. I took a bite of my sandwich, hoping it would curb the emotion. Maybe it made it worse - I wasn't expecting such heavy sobs, reminiscent of this time last year. 

I tried to keep Marc from knowing I was crying. We had both already had a long day, filled with a few tense moments about really important (and yet at the same time unimportant) topics. But, after a few minutes I found myself walking upstairs, totally unable to resist the urge to be curled up in his lap, having him gently stroke my back until the wave passed.

Through this entire experience, he has never made me feel like a burden, like I need to save my breakdowns for outside of what most people would call normal work hours. Plus, his comfort almost always includes some much-needed humor relief. Today it was telling me that my breath smelled "really good." I guess he was in the mood for a Peanut Butter and Boysenberry Jam sandwich, too... which was actually a relief since crying breath isn't necessarily the best.

The night was brought to a close with therapy of sorts, some creative-ness that brought some healing. As I reflected on the day, I tried to figure out if there was something about today's date that triggered such intense sadness. It wasn't the 16th. It wasn't an anniversary of any kind. There was nothing about today that usually accompanies this kind of heavy grief.

And, I finally determined that today, on August 27, 2009, a random normal day, I just really missed my girls, Elliana and Emmaline. 

"Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems empty."

- Alphonse de Lamartine


Erica said...

Thank you so much for writing this. Your words are beautiful. I can't begin to imagine your grief. Today was a hard day for my family as well. It marked the one month birthday of my sweet baby nephew, Justin, who passed away unexpectedly three days later. The grief still overwhelms me, and I'm only the aunt. I pray daily that my sister will have continued strength to bear the burden. I appreciate your willingness to share your thoughts and struggles. I'm so grateful for eternal families, but I know that even while we understand the Great Plan of Happiness, the grief of missing those sweet precious babies will always be present.

Your family is in my prayers.

Visalia, CA

Amy said...

Megan, that's good. That's just what you should be doing. Trust me, Marc's okay with the tears.
Lots of love!!!

Head Nurse or Patient- you be the judge said...

There is no rhyme or reason to the timing of grief I have found. It can hit almost anytime- but I have also found that there are times when I expect it to be hard, and it is okay.

Know that many people think of you often and carry prayers for you both in their hearts.

Becky Rose said...

Grief is a weird thing. You never know when It's going to pop up! Thanks for letting us know what it's really like and what is really going on.

Andrea said...

Grief is such a wierd and crazy thing. It can strike at any instant and hit you like a punch in the gut. I'm so glad your sweet husband is so understanding and caring. I love that quote...oh, it's so true. Thank you for sharing each and everything you share. It amazes me how often those missing days come and there is nothing we can do but cry and feel. Sending my love your way. I think you are amazing! I think of you all the time and my heart just goes out to you.

Michelle said...

Thinking of you especially today, and wishing you peace in your heart.

Allred Mom said...

What a sweet post! And, yes those days come. Mine weren't for the same as you, but they still came and they still come. Crying is a good comforter, and sweet husbands are, too.
Love you! Rachel

Kimberli said...

Hi Megan. Your blog entries pull at my heartstrings... so honest and even through your grief, your faith shines through.

I sincerely hope my "update since I've seen you last" that I posted a while back wasn't insensitive... I certainly didn't mean it to be so. I wish only the best for you and pray that the gradual healing will continue. I can't imagine how difficult this trial has been for you... you are an inspiration.

Charity said...

Still thinking of you often and praying for you.

Joelle said...

Getting back to catching up on my blogs. This is so crazy this post...about 3 weeks the EXACT same thing happened to me. I could NOT control my sobbing, my breakdown, it came out of nowhere. It lasted a few days, like nothing i have felt since those awful days after everything happened. But soon the sun lifted and i felt ok again.
Glad your hubby has been such a rock, he sounds a lot like mine :)

Holly said...

Those days can come out of nowhere. The comfort of a husband's arms is like no other.