It's snowing outside, kinda the first real snow of the season. I mean, we've had some here and there, but not really much. This is the kind of day where I want to stay curled up on the couch with a good book, hot chocolate and popcorn, at least usually.
Today I'm restless, and also wiped out. Not sure how those go together but they do.
It's been a rough week, Aaron. I took down Christmas decorations on the 1st and was reminded of last year. I "thought" somehow it wouldn't be a big deal last year and oh boy, was I wrong. I found myself breaking down in sobs.
This year the pain is different, deeper in some ways and quieter too. I don't know if it's because I've had a whole year without you, or because grief over Gramma is so fresh.
When I was about nine or so, Gramma and Grampa began the tradition of giving each of us an ornament every year with the idea that when we left home, we'd have ornaments for our own tree. Well, they continued that through the years. This year, Gramma had everyone come choose their own, including grandchildren. As I packed those away, I remembered so many different years, so many different treasures.
A couple years ago she gave everyone a large crystal in the shape of a teardrop. Hers hangs over her kitchen island; mine is in my office window.
My Christmas Hummels are now put away, but I got back out the ones that are on the shelf year round. There are ornaments made by my childish hands, and ones she embroidered and sent. The butterflies she made for you still hang from the ceiling in the front room. Your ornaments also brought a small smile to my face. I caressed the one she and Aunt Maurie managed to find last year the day you left us.
This year you both spent Christmas in Heaven...
Oh, Aaron, I miss you both so much! You were always here, or if not, I was with you where you were. I honestly didn't talk to Gramma that often, but I think that may be in part because I always knew where she was and that I could. I was secure in our relationship, that she loved me so dearly. I know you both still do, but I can't reach out and talk to you, touch you, and somehow this week it hurts more than it has in a while.
I went back to work on the 2nd and had a full days Thursday and Friday. It was hard. I didn't feel like I was doing a great job, but I tried. It wasn't as hard as last year, but still....
The grief seems to settle into my bones, into my very being. It doesn't bring the same bone-crushing pain, but the ache is deeper. It feels more like it is part of me, more internal and less external. I'm attending a weekly grief group for parents starting on Tuesday. During the intake interview, the facilitator asked what it was I was hoping to get out of it, and I had to be honest: I don't know. I just know I need something, and I hope to find it.
I'm trying, Aaron, I really am. I don't feel very strong.
This is hard...
Love,
Mama
“You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it.”
