Or maybe He was trying to gently teach me?
That's probably more like it. It was gentle, but very impactful.
This weekend was Stake Conference. A bit bittersweet (like most things right now) because for the past 13 years, we've gotten a link to the February conference and watched at home. It was too dangerous to take you out to such a crowded place. You'd go in person in August, but not February. And this year, well, we were there and you were not.
I didn't want to go. Honestly, if I hadn't already been dressed because of Mark's funeral that morning I probably wouldn't have. But I was and I did. Most of it went right past me, but then President Madson said something that really hit hard. "I can only see as far as the headlights, but I can make the whole trip that way."
I can make the whole trip that way...
I do okay with this most of the time. If I think about getting through the day or the week (I've progressed past minutes and hours, that's something) I can see that. Months are still hard. But the idea that it's going to be years and years, decades, until I see you again? That crushes me.
But I can do a day at a time.
I can only see as far as the headlights, but I can make the whole trip that way.
Then afterwards, I was talking to a friend (because who wants to fight traffic getting out of the lot anyway). She asked where you were and I was able to tell her. I told her I go by your grave almost every single night on the way home from work, and she said she does the same for her father's. He passed just over two years ago. I told her I don't always get out; I don't even always stop. She said the same. It's almost like she's checking up on him. Me, too.
That conversation did so much to help normalize what I'm doing, feeling. I mean, I keep telling people there's no "right" or "wrong" way to grieve, but sometimes I wonder if I'm doing it "right."
I guess if I'm still trying to move forward, keep living life while also honoring yours, I am.
One step at a time...
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