Tuesday, December 05, 2006


Just got off the phone with Heather. God I love that girl! She and I are in the same sorry boat! We are just kinda stuck. Stuck in the past, stuck in this moment of grief, stuck in fear of the future. Just stuck. I don't know how we will get past it but I know we will. You can't stay stuck forever. Eventually the sun will come up enough times that we will somehow be forced to move forward... That's what I'm telling myself.

But I look around my house and I look at my life and I don't feel like I'm making much progress. In fact I'm in worse shape now than I was when my mom first died. It's not pretty in my head right now. I'm pretty much not okay. When people ask I say I'm okay because I think if I say it I will believe it but I'm really not okay at all.

My calenders in my house are still on the month of September. Everytime I try to change them I feel ill. I actually have a note on September 2nd that says "mom died". Who does that! But I can't turn the page. I still have her jewlery on the dresser and my jewlery is in a box somewhere. Again I try to move it and I can't. So it's there and I pick a different piece and wear it each day. Her purse is still sitting in the same spot it was the day she died. I can't move it. I did however take her driver's license and insurance card and social security card out and I carry it with me everywhere I go. It's my proof that she was here. It's like if I leave certain things in the same place then she can't be really gone.

I do the things I feel like I'm supposed to do. I decorate for the holidays, I buy presents, I send cards. It's like I'm trying to prove to people that Heather and I aren't giving up. That we are moving. That we will be okay. But I don't want to do any of it. I would be fine if there was no Christmas this year. In fact I would be fine if I didn't see a stupid Christmas tree but I pretend I enjoy it. Because I know I'm supposed to enjoy it. I know that the real me, the old me loved those things. I know that my mom loved those things. So I do it. And I smile and I laugh and I pray that somehow someway God will make the smiles real and the laughter joyful. Someday it will come back. Someday the real me will show up again....

But until then I'm kinda stuck!


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