Safe Space

I realized today that it's hard for me to grieve at home. I was meeting a friend at the park for a COVID-safe time to chat - it's just a short walk through the woods but within minutes I was sobbing. Finally alone. Finally away from my responsibilities. The grief hit me like a wave. And it hurt and it felt good at the same time.

I'm spending so much time holding back my tears, pushing down my grief, holding it together, forcing myself to live. To face my to do list. To read to my boy. To engage in playing when all I want to do is hide in bed and remember and cry.

P just came into my room and said that our family used to feel complete when Daddy was here and that it doesn't anymore. I agree little man. I agree.

We've started filling out a book called "My Story about You and Me" to capture some of his memories. He told me a bunch of stuff he missed doing with Daddy and that it was more fun when Daddy was here. We recorded the things in the book. I miss Daddy too.

And he asked me how I felt when Daddy cried. I told him I cried a lot and he said he did too. I tried to explain how I feel numb sometimes and it doesn't always feel real. I don't think he understood that but maybe if he feels it sometimes he will know that it's normal and ok.

I wish you were here, G. I miss you so much. I'm glad you are whole and healed. But I wish you were whole and healed with us. I miss your soft hugs and kisses. I just miss YOU.