"Wow," she says as she notices she's not written a thing in her blog for months. She says it to no one because she's home alone and is certain no one has even peeked at her blog in practically a lifetime.
"It doesn't matter," she says to the wind. "I'm going to write anyway and maybe someone, somewhere, suffering from lack of sleep at three o'clock in the morning will find my words and read them."
Actually, a friend of mine sent me an email...which I purposefully ignored...kindly suggesting I blog again. I ignored her because I had no excuse for not writing other than not having much to say.
Yes, that even shocked me.
She got the ball, which some consider my brain, rolling though, so here I sit on the couch, laptop on lap, pondering the days of my life.
So I write.
Writing has always been therapeutic for me and if there's ever been a time in my life that I might need therapy, now is probably it so hopefully this will help.
I have been working hard at getting back into the groove of life since my mom passed. I know that life is full of ups and downs, good days, bad days, trials and tribulations, parties and celebrations or whatever other words people choose to describe life. And I know all of those expressions like, "When the going gets tough, the tough get going" but sometimes it can be a bit overwhelming.
It took me about nine months to start to feel something similar to normal again after my mom died. Normal as newly defined by her passing I guess but normal. I started moving more. Sleeping better. Exercising. Eating better. Doing projects around the house. Interacting socially. I hadn't completely given up all of these things but I started to do them more and actually had interest in them. I felt as if I was picking myself up from the sucker punch of her death and moving on.
It felt good.
Then another sucker punch came at me again. See, that's what life does. There are good times and rough times and we're (hopefully) taught to be strong enough to handle it all and enjoy what we can. It's almost a cycle. A good thing happens and then a bad thing happens, etc. I get that. I've certainly experienced that. Unfortunately in my life, I learned that when something good has happened, look out because pretty soon, something bad is going to hit. So instead of blindly walking through my life unprepared for the possibility of the sucker punch, I've always remained cautiously optimistic and on-guard for the possibility of it. Some people call me a pessimist but I prefer the word realist.
I know that it's a cycle and I know things will get better but a pessimist doesn't view things that way. I'm often prepared for the worst but still hope for the best. At least that way, if the worst does happen, I'm ready.
I was ready for my mom to pass. I wasn't ready for what it would cause me to feel and that was brutal. But that second sucker punch was just as tough, probably even more so because I wanted more time before it struck.
My dad passed away unexpectedly, almost 11 months to the day after my mom died. Yes, he was sick and we knew his health was failing but I think we all tried to deny the reality of it all.
I got the call from my 'step mom' (I really hate that word but in legal terms, it's what she is, though I consider her so much more) and I didn't cry. I didn't really 'cry' for days. I sniffled after a few days but I was pretty numb. There's only so much emotion one can handle and I'd had a lot of it after losing my mom.
I promised myself I wouldn't make the same stupid decisions I did after my mom died. I'd still workout. I'd eat well. I'd been losing the weight I'd gained when she was sick and after her death and I didn't want to gain it all back. But of course, doing and thinking are two very different things and I failed to think about what I was doing as I shoved food in my mouth for emotional support. Back on came the weight and with that, the frustration it brings.
It's been almost four months since my dad died. I'm okay. I'm feeling pretty good and doing things again, not letting that particular sucker punch engulf me the way the other did. I can't. It's not healthy for me or anyone around me. I took my time to mourn him and I always will. I still get choked up thinking about him but I have my good days and my not so good days. Mostly I worry about my step mom. I imagine what I'm feeling is nothing compared to what she's feeling.
It's a whole new normal again now that both of my parents are gone. I was blessed to have them in my life for so long but no matter how long it is, it's never enough time.
Life continues to throw those sucker punches and I continue to push through them, get through the pain and pick myself back up. I think for me, it's a challenge, even if it's a frustrating one. I'm just hopeful that saying, "God only gives you what you can handle" is true and that I get a little break here for a bit. I'd like to be fully 'up' from the punch before I'm struck with another one. Hopefully that's not too much to ask. It isn't, is it?
