Tuesday, November 12, 2013


Something big happened last week.  Huge.  Only I'm the only one who can see it.

So for a long time I've felt weary and heavy and tired and scared and sad.  I think it started the moment Jameson got sick.  When he was still alive, it was mostly the scary and tired and heavy.  And then my boy died.  And it was sad and heavy.  And then we lost the baby and the sadness almost undid me.  And then we got pregnant with Little Lady and there was still an awful lot of sadness and heavy, but the scary and tired again took the lead.  And since then, they all have been there.  Always.

And every day, every hour, every second has been a fight to stay above it all.  This joy seeking that I profess is not about happiness, it's about survival.

I'm not sure when I first heard this song, but I stopped everything and felt something inside me come apart a bit.  Because this is how I've felt for so long.  Listen to the song "Worn" by Tenth Avenue North.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zulKcYItKIA

So, it's kinda awesome.  It feels like it is a part of who I am.  And who I will be forever.  Because my boy is dead and that doesn't really get easier.

Only last week I was listening to the radio in the car and "Worn" came on.  And I turned it up like I always do when my soul is playing on the radio.  And I starting thinking and feeling my way through the song and I started crying because it was different.  I wasn't sad.  The song wasn't telling my story anymore.  I didn't feel worn.  Or heavy.  Or weary.

It was the first time in over three years that I haven't felt sad all of the time. 

Let me say that line again.  I'm not sad, for the first time in over three years. 

And this is a bittersweet revelation.  Because my son is dead and a big part of me feels like I SHOULD be sad every waking second for the rest of my life.  And it is true that I will always miss him and I will always wish he were here and that things were so different right now.  And I know I'll be sad about him often in my life.  I'll never be the same without him here, because part of my heart is with him.

But I think this is a different kind of sadness.  Because that one is one that I think I can have and still live.  But this sadness that has been draped over me all this time, this has not been a healthy sadness.  This has been a dark veil that has covered everything in my life.  It's impeded my ability to truly love my kids and play with them and sing to them and be happy with them.  It's made me a tired and unpredictable wife.  It's made me so many things that I was not. 

And now it is gone.  And I kind of don't know what to think.  I feel a little like I had amnesia and my memory was just restored.  I started singing to my kids again.  I've started laughing for real.  And as I seek and see and count the blessings in my life, they multiply and I find myself healed in a way I didn't think would happen this side of paradise.