For those who see me as strong, please know that I am weak.
For those who see me as weak, please know that I am strong.
At the end of the day any strength I do have is simply God working in me, through me. I know that without Him I would be nothing but a weak, crumpled mess of tears and a broken heart.
I want to be strong. I want to make something out of this brokenness. I want to do everything I can to honor Joshua’s life. I want the whole world to know how he changed my life. I want the world to know that while I may be broken right now I will come out of this stronger. I will, I know that. Right now I’m just trying to have a day that doesn’t involve crying every hour.
Yesterday was a rough day. There were so many things that piled on and culminated in me sobbing uncontrollably on the sofa with Patrick holding me as I held our weighted pillow from a Heart to Hold. Granted me watching What Dreams May Come was a poor decision on my part, but honestly that isn’t the only reason I couldn’t stop the tears that fell. Saturday’s session with the counselor meant talking through everything, which in turn meant that everything was fresh on my mind again.
I knew the moment I woke up that the day was going to be “one of those days.” One of those days where I feel like I just can’t win. So as I sat there and watched the movie through bleary eyes, I just kept thinking how unfair life was. My heart is heavy with both joy and grief for dear friends. I feel like I’m a lousy friend who can’t offer support, because I can’t see past my own pain long enough to muster anything useful to say. I hate that.
After some encouraging words from Patrick and a nice long hug, I pulled it together and we went out. We went and looked at movies and then we went to lunch. I’m not sure how it is that we always feel like we are the only table without a baby sitting at it. We both cringed as we watched the happy families smiling, unaware that their joy was causing pain. I was pretty much numb. Then we went to an arcade. We played air hockey and ski-ball. We forgot that we were grieving parents for a few hours and we were just a normal, happy couple. I love that. I love that Patrick can make me escape from my own thoughts and somehow always makes me have fun even when I want to fight it. He’s a good one.
At the end of the day I was exhausted, like usual, but sleep didn’t want to come. My mind raced. I didn’t sleep. It wasn’t until my alarm was going off that my mind was finally slowing. A rough weekend mixed with little to no sleep made for a pretty sucky Monday. But tomorrow is a new day. I will try to find more strength. I will try to find some peace.
I hope you can too.