One of Those Days

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I'm having one of those days.  Where things just seem hard.  Where I don't want the life I have been given.  Where I can't see the beauty of the first through the shade cast by the trees.  And then I look at the calendar.  Tomorrow is the 11th.  More often than not it happens that way....

My body, my mind, my soul seems to work on a calendar which I cannot control.  Even if I don't know the date, this time of the month gets me down.  The days are darker.  The nights are longer.  And things just seem too hard.  And then it lifts.

In my "other" moments, I'm starting to believe I may be doing okay.  Starting to walk, instead of just place one foot forward.  Some days, even trying to run.  But today my feet are bound by quicksand, and my mind is stuck in overdrive.  Wishing for something different.  Wishing for someone more.

Its the days like this I wish I could escape from forever.  But fear that I never really, 100% will.  The 11th is lurking around the corner, whether I know it or not...

The only good thing in days like today is that I have learned no day lasts forever.  And somewhere, sometime, there is a better day up ahead....

Lighting the Way...

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Things have been going good as of late.  I don't know if its the new drugs, a new job, a new workout routine, a new year or simply a new outlook.  Probably a bit of all of the above.  But things, they are a-changing.  Slowly.  I have noticed that some days seem a little brighter.  The future seems a little bigger.  I am no longer thinking 24/7 about ways I wish to die.  There are moments - sometimes fleeting, sometimes lasting - that I think things will be okay.

People around me are noticing it too.  Parents, friends.  Even our four year old boy has seen a change in his mommy.  And that gives his mommy all the push she needs to keep pushing forward.

Life still isn't a bed of roses.  The PTSD symptoms still haunt me.  I still have flashbacks.  I still wake up in a cold sweat.  I still have moments when I am incredibly sad.  I still think of ways to end it all more often than any person should.  I can't even think of taking a bath.  And there still isn't a day that goes by without a tear or two.

I still miss Kurt like I never thought it possible to miss someone.  I think of him all the time.  There are days, like today, that I can't seem to get him off my mind.  But as one day moves into the next, and the days without him become more and more, I am slowly getting used to the fact that I am alone....  Its resignation more so than acceptance.  But I guess its a start.

I feel so guilty as I write this.  Feel that things should not improve, should not change.  Feel that in some way, this lessens my feelings for Kurt.  Makes his death matter just a little less.  I know this is false.  But I also know that as I kept the pain alive, in some strange way it felt as though I was keeping him alive too....  It still does, I guess.  That's why its so hard to let it all go...

Today, right now, at this moment I look at the years ahead with trepidation.  I know my life as a solo widowed parent fighting some pretty big mental demons is not a life to envy.  The stress load is almost as heavy as the hurt.  I live in fear that tomorrow will bring another crash, another heartache.  I live in hope that it won't, but suspect there will always be one lurking around the corner.  I am more scared of the future than I think I have ever been in my life.  I know it is not going to be easy.  Tomorrow or the day after.  But I'm strong.  I never thought I could get this far.  I hope can do it.  I pray that some day the world will seem lighter, and the burden a little less heavy.  That I can weather this storm until that day arrives...

After all, I have a pretty good guardian angel on my side lighting my way....

Celebrating Him

Kurt would have been thirty-nine today.  We should be blowing out the candles on his cake together.  We should be celebrating, not commemorating his life.

We should be celebrating him.  With him.  Birthdays mark lives.  Lives well lived, whether long and prosperous or tragically cut short.

Today is still his day.

And in the quit of the evening, Gavin and I take a moment from our lives to talk about his life.  To remember.  

Happy Birthday, Kurt.  Thank you for sharing your life with us.  

Today, we celebrate you.

Happy Birthday

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Today is my birthday.  And yours.

A day to start over.  A day to start a new.  While we cannot erase the actions of the past, we can use our mistakes as fodder to change our future.  We can make our "what ifs" turn into "what nows".

We can start all over again.

I know I have done a lot of things wrong in my life.  In particular, in the past three years.  Even with good intentions, I have hurt others.  I have hurt those closest to me.  And, perhaps more than anything else, I have hurt myself.  I have also been hurt.

We are not perfect, and pain is a reality of life.  Proof that we are still living....  Little by little, I am learning to accept the pain.  Respond in spite of it, rather than recoil because of it.  It may be my constant companion, but it does not have to dictate who I am.  Even if I fail, I am trying to make it all mean something...

That pain has carried me through to today.  The dawn of a new year.  The dawn of a new tomorrow.  I do not know what the future holds.  For me, for Gavin, or for anyone out there.  But I know that life is precious and tenuous.  And every dawn that we open our eyes to see is a chance to start all over again.

To create who we are, and what we want, for that very moment.  Because that moment is all we have....

Every time it snows, in the classic television special that airs this time of year, Frosty the Snowman springs to life, announcing "Happy Birthday" to all that can hear.  He is recreated - reborn - with the fresh snow.  Just as we can be reborn with the fresh new day.

And the first new day of the new year seems a perfect time to start.

Who do you want to be in this moment?  What do you want to do with this day?

Happy Birthday.

We Need A LIttle Magic

The gifts have been opened.  Turkey consumed.  And the tree lights finally turned off.  And with the day coming to a close, the house has fallen silent, and I am left alone with my thoughts.

I'm not going to play the entire day as doom and gloom.  Things really do get easier with practice, and with time.... A four-year old light in the room is enough to push away most of the shadows.  Especially on Christmas morning.  And as the day played out, it was okay.  Yes, I thought of Kurt often.  Yes, I missed him.  And yes, I wished he was here to experience what I was... To see what I saw.  Yes, I longed for my husband's hand on my lap at the dinner table, just as my sister and her partner across from me.  Yes, I longed for his Christmas hug, his Christmas wish.  I longed to hear him laugh like a little boy, smile with excitement.  I longed to watch him race my son to the top of the toboggan hill.  And I long to be climbing into be with him right now.

I think I've come to accept that a part of me will always long for those things.  Long for the days of my past.  Long for my husband.  And I'm okay with that.  I think.

But as I sit here now, reflecting on all that was - both today and in the years that have come before, I realize that Christmas... that any day, really... will never be 100% the same again.  There is a certain sparkle, a certain magic that is not brought by Santa Claus.  Not even brought by my husband.  Its brought my me.  Created because I am, or was happy.  That is the sparkle, the magic, of Christmas that is gone.  I still feel like the fifth wheel, the odd man out in a world built for two.  I am not comfortable with myself, my surroundings.  My life.  I have secrets that are bogging me down, holding me back.  I have emotions even I don't understand.  Three years later, so much of my life remains ineffable, not because I don't want to, but because I simply do not have the words...

I don't know if its possible to find that same happiness again.  Don't now if it was ever really mine to begin with.... And I think I'm just coming to terms with that...

Christmas is not about gifts.  Not about turkey.  Not about twinkling lights.  The magic is not created by the people we surround ourselves with, the traditions that we diligently follow.  Rather, it is created by the innocence in our hearts.  The belief that things really are as they should be, even for just a moment, just a day.  Created by the fact that we are happy with ourselves.  Christmas magic is really nothing more than an exaggerated sense of feeling good.

Which is why, perhaps, I feel little magic.

And so tonight, as I turn off the last light in the house and settle down for my own restless sleep, I do so with a heavy heart.  Which is nothing new.  I hold that same heart daily.

My son has had a magical, wonderful Christmas.  I don't think I can capture that again. But little by little I see the light.  And with each ray, the promise of magic exists still...

But as I said in the beginning, it wasn't all half bad today. In fact, except for these late night moments of introspection, it was pretty good.  Gavin made sure of that.  And you don't necessarily need magic or perfection to be merry...

Hoping you all had a very Merry Christmas.  And that you were able to taste, if only for a moment, a little magic.

We all need more magic in our lives.....