The theme of this blog (as a whole, not just this post) is understanding that in spite of everything that has happened this year, I will eventually be alright.
But there is a big difference in knowing that you will be alright, and actually feeling alright. And feeling alright certainly does not happen very often.
Most mornings, I wake up very angry and sad that this is still my reality. Why can’t it just be a really bad nightmare? Why can’t I wake up and find out it’s still Christmas and none of this actually happened?
As I move through each day, I find that some days are better than others, and even some hours are better than others. My mood is constantly changing from angry to sad to kind of OK to angry and/or sad again.
Some of the most random things will remind me of my Dad and make me cycle through the emotions all over again.
- A song that we listened to during one of our last car rides together.
- Hockey playoffs, which in turn reminds me of other sports he liked to watch.
- Not knowing how to install my car insurance discount device, because I want to text him to ask where it goes.
- Mani/pedis, of all things, because of the time he and I went into a salon to buy a gift certificate for mani/pedis for my mom and I as a present for her 50th birthday. (I still chuckle when I think about the look on his face when the woman asked if they were going to be gel or regular manicures.)
When I start to think about things like this, I do not feel alright at all. It feels like I never will be alright again.
I start to feel distracted and unfocused, and have to remember to be mindful of my thoughts and emotions, to try to experience them without getting too stuck on them.
Honestly, it’s exhausting.
But I accept this as a normal part of the grief process and remind myself that I don’t have to feel alright to know that I will be alright.
I will probably never actually feel alright again. Everything I’ve been feeling so far — it’s only been one month. As Mom said to me yesterday, we have to deal with this every day for the rest of our lives.
But I have the support of some amazing friends and family, I have a great job and board role that is really fulfilling, and most importantly, I am so lucky to have someone so special to miss.
So even though it doesn’t feel like it, I really will be alright.