This isn’t the story I planned to share this week. I’m not sure it’s a story I ever intended to share but as we know all too well, things often don’t go according to plan.
The story I had been working on (and is still forthcoming!) wasn’t 100% as of yesterday morning and I woke intending to make edits, add the photos, and share another piece of my journey with you. I got to the coffee shop I so often work out of, ordered a cold brew, settled in. And was hit by a tidal wave, threatening to take me out to sea.
I no longer count the hours and days since you’ve been gone, as they’ve now turned into months, and yesterday was nine months to the day. Anniversaries up until now haven’t really been a struggle and there was no specific visual or auditory trigger yesterday, not even a subtle nudge towards the grief that overcame my senses. It just happened. The phantom-limb feeling, guttural, visceral, desperate longing.
I attempted to finish up the edits, but it became very apparent upon proof-reading that my heart was not in it. So, I packed up and went home, feeling a bit defeated.
“Why am I having a day like this? I’ve been doing so well, moving forward while keeping you present, and not succumbing to the phantom-limb feels.” I went over these thoughts in my head for a bit, back and forth with no answer in sight.
So I gave myself grace. I took a nap. I reached out to my people and was transparent about these feels. I texted with people I love and I know love me. I spent the day with family and friends, and the evening sharing stories and shedding some tears and listening to live music.
I gave myself grace.
And through this grace I was reminded of something I’ve often told others but maybe hadn’t fully enveloped for myself; healing is not linear. Grief is not linear. There’s no straight line through this, just like any other journey we take in life. It is going to twist and weave and bounce around. It’s circular and cyclical and haywire. There’s no right or wrong, no good or bad.
Yesterday was not a step back, but if I had tried to fight that tidal wave it might have been. Instead I moved with the current; swimming so as not to go under while allowing myself to feel and process the ebbs and flows. It enabled me to awake this morning feeling renewed and energized, as if emerging from a dip in the cold Atlantic. Yesterday was another day on this journey. Filled with people I adore, both near and far, that didn’t try and rescue me - they swam with me through the waves.