Sunday, February 24, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
Monday evening thoughts
Yesterday was three months that we have been without Paige. I have felt awkward posting, because this is her blog, and with her gone it seemed bizarre to be sharing things sans Paige. But I want to. So I will.
Things make me tear up more now. I pick strange places to cry, like the florist. I was petting the owner's beautiful, ancient Maine coon cat, that looks so much like Francesca. The cat, normally shy, seemed to really like me and followed me to the checkout counter to be petted. So I chatted with the owners about cats for a few minutes, and then I all of a sudden got really weepy. So I left abruptly. What the heck? But somehow it hurt really badly just then.
And yesterday I was in a six hour meeting and after a couple hours, I kept thinking about Paige, up in heaven, wanting a cuddle with me. So I in my imagination welcomed her, and held her on my lap, and let her cuddle. Jesus is great for snuggling, I'm sure, but no one is quite like a mama. And of course this made me cry. And cry. Finally I left and went out into the hallway, to get a good cry out of my system so I could go back and participate without continuing to cover my shirt with tear-spots.
It's a little disconcerting to be wearing my heart on my sleeve; previously most of my mourning I have done very privately. But it feels good to go with it. I am in grief counseling (they said Luke seems to be doing great, and doesn't need to continue coming! She said I was the one who seemed to really need it.) and I asked if the counselor would give me journaling exercises each week for homework. So I will be working on that later this week. I know that I proccess a lot by writing, so I am looking forward to the reflection and the processing. She said grief will show up how it wants to, and we can't direct it, so I am trying to be flexible.
At the furniture store the other day, the employee asked if Luke was my only child. I said I had a daughter that had died. Luke added on what her name was, and what he called her (Paigey) and how they used to play house together. He was the daddy, and Paige was the mama, and Paige's dolls were the kids, the son and the daughter.
I still have alot of peace inside. In fact, more peace than I have had in years. Without that, this would be so much harder. Please don't stop praying for us. We all could use it.
Things make me tear up more now. I pick strange places to cry, like the florist. I was petting the owner's beautiful, ancient Maine coon cat, that looks so much like Francesca. The cat, normally shy, seemed to really like me and followed me to the checkout counter to be petted. So I chatted with the owners about cats for a few minutes, and then I all of a sudden got really weepy. So I left abruptly. What the heck? But somehow it hurt really badly just then.
And yesterday I was in a six hour meeting and after a couple hours, I kept thinking about Paige, up in heaven, wanting a cuddle with me. So I in my imagination welcomed her, and held her on my lap, and let her cuddle. Jesus is great for snuggling, I'm sure, but no one is quite like a mama. And of course this made me cry. And cry. Finally I left and went out into the hallway, to get a good cry out of my system so I could go back and participate without continuing to cover my shirt with tear-spots.
It's a little disconcerting to be wearing my heart on my sleeve; previously most of my mourning I have done very privately. But it feels good to go with it. I am in grief counseling (they said Luke seems to be doing great, and doesn't need to continue coming! She said I was the one who seemed to really need it.) and I asked if the counselor would give me journaling exercises each week for homework. So I will be working on that later this week. I know that I proccess a lot by writing, so I am looking forward to the reflection and the processing. She said grief will show up how it wants to, and we can't direct it, so I am trying to be flexible.
At the furniture store the other day, the employee asked if Luke was my only child. I said I had a daughter that had died. Luke added on what her name was, and what he called her (Paigey) and how they used to play house together. He was the daddy, and Paige was the mama, and Paige's dolls were the kids, the son and the daughter.
I still have alot of peace inside. In fact, more peace than I have had in years. Without that, this would be so much harder. Please don't stop praying for us. We all could use it.
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