Good and Sad

I went to the gym today, which was some sort of a victory. I haven’t been in a few weeks. Grief sucks energy, yo.

Now I’m doing laundry, and I’m feeling accomplished, because it’s a thing I can say I did today. And I made a real dinner the other night, so feel free to congratulate me.

Jack is trying new foods at his new home. He is learning to sign much more than he did with us. These steps forward are giving me comfort. He’s stretching and growing. He is adjusting to his new life. Jeff and I are going to visit him in a few days. We wanted to give him at least two weeks to settle in before we came to see him. Even still, it may be confusing for him when we leave and don’t take him with us, and it might feel like we’ve smashed my bruised heart between a couple of cinder blocks. Hopefully not. We’ll see.

Grief isn’t exciting to write about, but then again, neither were the behavior problems of the last five + years.

I’ve noticed that while my family is carrying on basically normally, I am sadder, quieter, wearier. I suppose it’s because I am the mom, and I carried Jack in my womb, my arms, my car’s backseat, my mind & heart for so long. I did so much for him—more than my other boys needed from me. You can’t relocate your nonverbal thirteen-year-old and relinquish your role as caregiver without feeling the pangs. It is not the same.

Nor will it be. That is both good and sad.

  3 comments for “Good and Sad

  1. Allison
    June 1, 2017 at 9:42 pm

    I will pray that the burdens on your back will be eased as you visit Jack… and that you will feel of the tender mercies of the Lord…. and that Jack will too.

  2. Meg Conley
    June 1, 2017 at 9:54 pm

    For different reasons, I am fairly well acquainted with grief. I think one of its most surprising characteristics was/is its general, utter monotony. Shouldn’t something that rends me be a little more…I don’t know…dynamic? Of course, I ask that question and then the grief does take an interesting turn and I regret the query. I’ll also say that anticipating grief left me weary when it finally came. I slept through the first few months of my grief. Even when I was awake. And somewhere in the sleeping…I don’t know…something like living was found. So. I guess all I’m saying is…I don’t know your sorrow, but I do know sorrow. And it seems like, if there is a right way to do it (there isn’t), you’re doing it just so (you are). All my love.

  3. Susan
    June 2, 2017 at 6:28 am

    Just as Jack is stretching, growing and adjusting to his new life so are you and it’s okay.

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