50%

 Grief is the worst. It’s demanding, irritating, ruthless.  It knows no boundaries. It butts into your life. Interrupting perfectly wonderful moments. It steals happiness, holidays, personalities and lives. 

While most days get easier and major episodes of sorrow become farther between, grief never leaves. 

Sometimes it feels like it stalks you, just waiting for the moment to take you down. 

And it does. 

It comes hard. It hits you where it really hurts. Exposing the feelings you try so hard to push down and the parts you try in vain to cover up. It rips your deepest wounds right open, exposing them to what feels like pure acid. Reality is that acid. It comes in right when you feel like youre doing okay. It exposes the façade that you’ve figured out how to navigate this life. 

It’s a reminder that you’re still gone. 

I know that they say the more you loved, the more you grieve. I believe it. 

I try to take all my love for you and wrap it around the sadness and bitterness. I try to make it cover it up so that everything concerning you is good and feels happy and light. 

But I just miss you so much. I want you here with me so badly. I’m so sorry for that pain often taking away from the eternal happiness that your life brought and your memory will always be. 

How is this the 10th Christmas without you? Where did all this time go?

I know. 

It goes by both so fast and so slow it leaves me in a state of constant whiplash. I’m exhausted. 

The highs and lows of life just keep rolling. 

I’m glad they do though. Without those highs and joys and all the love, what would this life even be?

I’m homeschooling your sisters and we’ve been working on fractions. The other day I stared at a circle that was 50% shaded in. I realized that circle is just like my heart…both 1/2 empty and 1/2 full. I sometimes feel so lost without you here, that no matter how many wonderful blessings God sends my way, my “cup” seems to top off at 50%. That has to also mean, as strong and dark as things feel, it can’t drain me more than that 50%. 

I think that’s ok. After almost a decade, I have to stop trying so hard to fight it all. The grief waves just come. Some are stronger than others. Sometimes it seems like I’ll never get back to shore. Other days, I don’t realize my toes are even wet. I guess when I look at it like that, it’s all just a day at the beach. 

You always said “even a rainy day at the beach is better than no day at the beach”, right?

Every day that passes is one closer to Heaven. There’s a constant internal battle between wanting to rush there to you as fast as possible but, somehow, also not wanting to miss a thing here. 

Your sisters aren’t even close to being babies anymore. Your brothers will soon have babies of their own. Wow…you’ll have nieces and nephews. Aunt Aub. You would have been amazing as a big sister and aunt. 

I wish more than anything you were here for it all but I also know that you are right there in Heaven. My time to be with you is coming. 

By Gods grace, we are going to be okay here. 

Soon and very soon, Buggy Girl. 

Mama LOVES you.