I have just been so tapped out emotionally here lately. It feels like there isn't enough of me left to try to form words over the last few days. But then I start typing and the words pour. They were locked in their somewhere all along I guess.
We are entering a hard season. I dread spring and I hate that. Spring has always been my favorite. I loved Easter, birthdays, and spring. But now those things are so interwoven with loss and pain that I really struggle with them and tend to deal with that by just ignoring them. Fortunately, my kids just won't allow that. We have 6 birthdays in 5 months this spring. Add to that 4 children in 3 different dance recitals, one child working on his eagle scout requirements, 5 playing sports of some kind, and I can't just put my head under the covers like I really want to. I really really want to. I have to face the world and face the spring, for good or bad.
This season started last weekend with Malachi's first birthday home. Sweet boy had such a good time at his first ever party. His slightly older sister, on the other hand, did not understand why it wasn't also her big day. It's going to be a long wait till June for her, lol.
Then this week, that same sweet boy had to go through some minor surgeries. That was rough. Watching him react in terror and fear that I was abandoning him broke my heart. I love that kid. He is doing ok now, but again Grace doesn't understand why he is getting Popsicles and jello and she isn't.
Next up is Eli's birthday and the day he passes Abigail in age, followed closely by her birthday and the anniversary of the day we lost her. This year, Easter is going to be nicely rolled into that weekend, so all 3 will be within a few days. I want to teach my kids to joy and beauty of Easter, but I'm worried about that dark hole that will be following me around at that point.
Please pray for me. Pray that I can be the mommy they need me to be, while still being honest with them about my grief and respectful of them and their grief. Ignoring the grief isn't the answer. And ignoring the days that bring pain isn't either. It's a balancing act. I guess all of life is. I hurt for my brother in his loss of his son back in the fall, but I celebrate with my friend Kate as she brings home her little girl from Ukraine this week. Back and forth, back and forth. Lord, bring me a sense of peace and stillness in this busy season. Give me focus. I do not want to get caught up in the daily grind and miss the big sacrifices and courage you are asking of me, and I also want to be truly thankful for each moment that feels like just another chore or another repetitive task. I remind myself constantly of what I wouldn't give to do her laundry again or to teach her her colors or to change her diaper. Those daily moments that are so hard are what I miss the most.