You are strong, you are resilient, you will survive, we are going to get the kiddos through this come hell or high water, this life hasn’t handed your ass to you yet so keep f’ing going.
Every. Single. Day. I repeat this to myself – because sometimes I forget and need a reminder.
There are moments that I think that I am obsessing over Rob, watching videos, looking at pics, talking about all the memories. Then I remind myself that this is my grief and I can handle it any way I want. No one has told me to do anything different, which is probably in part due to me having very solid boundaries and everyone that knows me knows that I like to keep my life to myself. I am sure that my people worry that I am not ok and that I am holding emotions in. I’m ok, I am not holding anything in, when I need to cry I cry, sometimes big ass crocodile tears, that don’t come with a single sound, for a really long time. But I cry. Sometimes, when Tim asks what is wrong I can’t even get the words out that I am just having a Robbie moment. Thankfully, he knows just by my inability to answer what is wrong and how to just be with me through it. Most nights, I fall asleep because I am exhausted but wake up for hours in the middle of the night. I’m tired and cranky and disconnected but managing. I miss Robbie every single day. I miss the random messages and calls at the most inopportune times because that is when he was awake or needed his mom. I miss that we aren’t talking about him heading south to ride over break or planning our upcoming race season. I really miss that he was an amazing hugger and would stand with his arm around me while I loved on him without a care of how it looked or who would see it.
Day 27, Saturday 1 day short of 4 weeks from the accident was the absolute hardest for me because, for some reason it hit me really hard that it had been that many weeks since I had wrapped my arms around Robbie and loved him. (yes, I am still absolutely grateful that I was able to do that). Yesterday I watched a bazillion videos that Robbie had taken of him and I over the years and I laughed and was also mortified that others may have seen some of the ridiculous things that he and I got into. I am sure many have seen the videos of us dancing or him messing with my Jimmy. Jimmy, that is what the boys named my double chin probably 7 or 8 years ago. Dear God I am not sure how I ever survived some of the shenanigans.
I think as parents and others who have lost loved ones too often we worry about how we grieve and we feel guilty for having happy moments after loss. I have said so many times I feel like I should feel guilty for not being consumed with the sadness and hurt. I will never minimize loss and how any of us feel in the days, weeks, and years after but I think if we are still going to be here that what life is in front of us is worth living. Maybe that is because I was raised by parents who also lost a child, my experience after the loss of my brother seemed to mirror life before the loss. Maybe I was too young to notice major differences but, other than a few small things and really over protective parents I can’t think of anything. My thinking is, we are not obligated to anything nor do we have to live up to anyone’s standards when it comes to grieving. I think as long as we are being healthy we get to choose our own healing path. Some of focus on our other children, some of throw ourselves into work, some of us can’t get out of bed, some of us are completely numb and detached…..be as strong as you can, reach out when you need help, lean on those you need to lean on have faith (in whatever it is that your faith is in). There really are amazingly kind and compassionate people in this world, some of which we have known our whole lives and some we connect with in a group for parents who have lost children. Sometimes, it takes a village…..
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