I’m beginning to learn that grief is far more than sadness from a loss. Many people probably already know that, certainly those who have lost someone close to them. But, since this is by far the hardest transition I’ve ever had to deal with in life, this has come as a surprise to me. I’ve been sad, discombobulated, tired, edgy, distracted, and vacant. At times it’s just one of those things and more frequently it’s a few of them, and sometimes all of them. For me the grief is a beast that keeps changing and morphing and I never know what to expect. I feel so out of balance and flakey. I’m losing things, forgetting things, running late, and disorganized. And those who know me well know that being disorganized is not something I usually struggle with. It’s driving me crazy. The way our minds process the grief is so crazy. Some days I wake up in a heavy blanket of sadness and can’t shake the despair, but others times I feel ok. I have no idea what triggers either one and the up and down is exhausting, but I am thankful for the ups.

The holidays were easier than I expected. The Great Wolf Lodge is amazing and the kids couldn’t have been happier or more excited about being there. I had a nagging feeling the whole time that it wasn’t where we should be. We should have been at my parent’s house with the table decorated to the hilt and my mom pulling the filet mignon out of the oven asking Darren if his was well-done enough and Bill if his was rare enough. We should have just opened way too many presents. We should have been passing around a plate of 20 different kinds of Christmas cookies to eat with our Cheerwine sundaes. But we weren’t and it was better to be at the Great Wolf Lodge than home this year. I also thought so much about how much my mom would have loved to see the kid’s excitement over being there. The place has so much to do and so many fun things. Savannah had to write a speech for her 1st grade class about her favorite place and she chose the Great Wolf Lodge. Despite those sad feelings, it was the best thing we could have done this year and I’m thankful for that. I heard my mom’s voice in my head the entire time I was there saying “Amy, you make the best of it.” I know how fortunate we are that we can do special things like that with the kids and “listening” to my mom’s voice helped me appreciate the place and the experience.

To be honest though, I’m having a pretty hard time these days…far more so than I was initially. I think I was so busy the first few months with planning the service, the holidays, and trying to catch up with life that it was easier to forget the reality. But now that life has settled down I’m feeling incredibly lonely. Despite having a wonderful husband, dad, brother, and many friends and extended family, no relationship can make up for what I had with my mom. She was my constant companion, always available to hang out with me or chat about nothing. I love being home with the kids but the days can be long and having my mom with me to break up the monotony with a last minute visit or just a phone conversation was so great and I’m missing it so much now...esp. with it being wintertime and harder to get out. Sometimes I’m fine and others just a puddle of sadness. I know I’ll be happy in the long run and in some ways I want to speed up time to get through it but I also know how precious this time is, esp. with Jack’s babyhood slipping away that I don’t want to wish away the time. The kids are so much fun right now and I want to soak them in as much as I can.

Darren was out at Lake Tahoe skiing with my cousin Karl and had a bad accident. The binding on his ski failed on an expert slope and he lost control and slammed into a tree going very fast. He was very banged up but thank God he was wearing a helmet and didn’t have any permanent damage. It could have been so much worse but it did side line him for a few weeks…not an easy thing to cope with for a guy who lives for his next active endeavor. During this time we all need to focus on the things that make us feel alive and excited about the day, and for Darren, that is playing sports. Sitting around recovering from the accident was not what he needed right now but he is gaining more mobility each day and should be back to his normal routine soon.

My dad is up and down. We spend the night with him every Saturday. The girls love the spoiling they get from PopPop (and the Lucky Charms cereal he gets them for breakfast!) My mom had also bought a Wii a few months before she died for the girls so they get to play that over there. My dad and I have gone on a lot of Sunday morning hikes. He carries Jack in the backpack and listens to Jack’s gleeful babbles as we walk. I’ve enjoyed the time to be with him and I think these things help but it’s is still a rough road. He is by nature an introvert so being alone isn’t too hard on him. I think he’s having a harder time feeling like there are things he “should” do but doesn’t feel like doing. My opinion is that there are no “shoulds” in this situation…you do what you can to get through the day.

Twenty or more times a day I encounter reminders of our loss, all of which open the door for the grief to swallow me up…a story I’m reading the girls that talks about a little girl spending the weekend with her grandmother...a woman at the mall who looks about my age and is there with her mom and her kids…Becca’s precious enthusiasm talking about her first dance recital coming up in June that my mom would loved to have watched. Twenty times a day I have a decision to make; do I allow the grief to overtake me and pour out (as it must on occasion) or do I think about the many wonderful sleepovers the girls had with my mom or the fun outings my mom and I did with the kids or the excitement my mom had watching Savannah at her dance recitals?

I’m trying my best to follow my mom’s example. I realize I have just one life to live and wallowing in sadness and grief isn’t the way I want to spend it.