Dec. 10, 2022

I can say with 100% confidence that at 42 yrs old I have already lived the best days of my life. How heartbreaking is that?

I haven’t even lived half of the amount of years I expect my life to be and I know that I will never have anymore days like I had before. No more blissfully joyful days. No more “I’m so happy I could explode.” I will experience happiness and joy again but never again like I had.

My kids will never have that mom again.

My husband will never have that wife again.

And my grandson will never know that Grammy.

Some respond to that with incessant positivity which I know is not for my benefit. It’s for theirs. “It will be ok.” “Things will get easier.” Something they can say that makes them feel a fraction less uncomfortable. Even when I figure out how to live again I will still have this layer of grief and deep longing in my soul. No more pure happiness and joy I once felt in every fiber of my being. It’s just not possible. There is no looking at the bright side. When they say those things I just know I can’t share my grief with them. I can’t trust them with my story. This will never be ok. This will never get easier. Words can be fickle. I know I will get bigger and figure out how to carry this with me in my life but don’t you think that I will ever be ok with Truman’s absence. I’ll never live an easy life again. Every day I will remember and relearn how to live each day. I just need to figure out how to do so  in a way that’s fair to my soul, my loved ones and most importantly for my sons legacy. This takes time. Lots of time.

It’s ok that we are sad. We don’t want to be happy. Don’t try to change that. And that’s ok. It’s ok for us to feel this deep sadness and more importantly it is healthy and much needed in our journey.