Thinking

Tonight I’m praying for patience, strength, energy, and wisdom.  I think this must be a single-parents single most prayed prayer. Finding the strength and energy to be consistent in discipline and boundaries with Jaelyn is a daily struggle.   I think I took for granted the ability to tag-team parenting with Scott.   It is exhausting to always need to be patient and respond with wisdom, without someone to share that responsibility.  It is hard to discern when her disrespect and talking back is “normal” behavior for an almost eight year old or when it is her grief and anger coming out.  I know that regardless of what the reason is, the behavior needs to be addressed. However knowing the reason for the behavior would change how I would address it.  Jaelyn isn’t able to explain why she behaves the way she does, but this isn’t surprising.  Even as an adult, I often can’t explain why I am irritated or upset.   It takes me sitting down and really thinking about it, and there are still times that I can’t figure it out.

Most evenings I don’t have much time to think about Scott and our loss until Jaelyn goes to bed and the house is quiet.  I am usually so tired and drained by the time that Jaelyn goes to bed that I don’t want to face my loss and my grief.  I find myself doing “mindless” things such as playing solitaire so that I don’t have to think about it.

 I am still overwhelmed when I sit and think about the magnitude of our loss.  It is so hard to lose your best friend and love so abruptly and unexpectedly.  I don’t think that my mind truly comprehends the totality of our loss – a part of me is in denial and avoidance mode.  Almost an ostrich-like attitude – if I don’t think about it, then it didn’t happen.  Yet there are many, many moments when I can’t avoid the truth.  I find myself frustrated that tears come at moments when I can’t let them fall, such as many moments at work, then when I am at a time and in a place when I can let them fall the tears seem to be frozen inside of me and I feel numb.   I pray for the strength and energy to face our loss, and move forward.  I don’t want to be frozen in time and unable to move forward from this, yet it is hard to know how to work through the grief and move forward in a healthy manner.

 How do you know when you are moving forward?  Maybe a few months down the road I will be able to look back at my journaling and see the slow, steady progress that I have made – that is my hope and prayer – as any movement right now is so slow that it is impossible to see.  Everyone’s journey through grief is different and there isn’t just one right way through grief – so how do you know when you are moving forward?  I am a person who likes to be able to spell things out in a concrete and measurable way, yet there is nothing concrete or measurable about grief and loss.  Maybe this is why I crave words to explain my thoughts and feelings – to nail them down and make them concrete.  I want a clear path through this state of grief, with a clear ending – even though I know that grief never really ends, just eases up.  I want to be able to identify steps along the path and recognize the signposts as I pass them, as a sort of progress marker.