I was thinking the other weekend how I feel like I'm sliding backwards in this journey through grief. I'm standing in a grocery store and hear a distant voice asking me if they can help me find something. How can someone help me find something that I don't know what I'm looking for? I forget alot again. My children talk, but I don't hear them. I can't sleep. I feel like I'm back in that first year or so of grief, and I hate it. Or do I?
Remembering the first two years without Todd brings a strange feeling. I was in a very dark and scary valley. Everything hurt all the time, and I couldn't seem to even get out of bed. I never felt guilty staying in bed, nor guilt for not making dinner for my children, nor guilt for not hearing them when they talked to me,nor guilt for crying hours on end. There was a protective covering over that valley....a deep, thick, dark fog. It was safe in that fog.
As I began to make my way out of the fog, the light was bright, but it was warm. I felt like I was ready to move out there in that big world. I knew my Father was with me, and I knew He would never leave me; afterall, He was with me in that dark valley, wasn't He? So I began taking those baby steps.
Now the steps have become steep and rough. It feels like every day something is beating me back, trying to knock me down, trying to push me back into the valley. Then I think, is that so bad? Even though the valley was dark and cold, it was safe. I feel vulnerable now. I don't like the hits, nor the bruises and cuts they leave.
I hurt. I'm tired. I'm not even sure I am able to take another step forward without Todd. I'm not sure I even want to. Going backwards doesn't sound bad, it sounds good.
