Positively February: Day 1

Well February is here!  I've looked at so many positive sayings and thoughts since losing Preston, and so many of them touched me and helped me heal as I reflected upon them.  I hope that by sharing some of these, you find some healing too.

I found this positive thought, and it seems to be perfect for starting us off:

Get up, dress up, show up & never give up

One of the hardest things after losing your child is just getting up and going about your day.  Your routine has just been shot to hell and not only are you emotionally shattered but you are also disoriented. Nothing seems real.  Nothing makes sense.  Time seems to stand still but the clock keeps on ticking.

This phrase reminds me that of my new motto: one day at a time, one step at a time.  It takes a lot of willpower to get up every day, especially those first couple months.  Just getting up, out of bed, is a step taken towards the healing path.  If it's all you can do for weeks, or months, consider it an accomplishment.  It truly is.

When you feel up to it, take the next step and get dressed.  Do your hair, or make-up.  If you are up for it, all of it.  Taking these small steps, one at a time, will help you build a new routine.  It'll be difficult the first times, but it'll get easier with time, and repetition.  I strongly believe that routine helps with establishing a healthy healing path.  It gives your mind something to expect, something to concentrate on.  It gives your body a pattern to follow, and your body needs the routine too.

I will take the phrase literally and say that the next step is showing up, though it doesn't have to be.  Throw yourself back into social situations when you feel up for it.  It will be difficult and being in a crowd can be filled with triggers - moments or things that remind you of the loss, the pain and what you once had.  Showing up can mean telling yourself you will go, with an open ended option to leave at anytime.  It can mean trying to go, but turning around when you are halfway there.  One day, you will make it to the door and walk through.  And it'll feel okay.  The triggers won't be as intense.  One small step at a time, is all you have to do.

Never give up.  I don't have a choice to give up, life didn't stop even if it feels like it did.  The first weeks, months were incredibly difficult.  Difficult really doesn't begin to explain how painful it was to go through.  It's still "difficult", but I suppose the pain is less intense.  This doesn't mean I love my son less than I did 10 months ago.  It just means that my heart and mind have come to accept what has happened.  Doesn't mean I like it.  It doesn't mean I want to accept it.  It doesn't mean that any morning is easy to awaken from.  I've come to appreciate everything in my life a lot more though, and that's a blessing.  Not something I asked for.  It came at a high price.  I'd exchange this appreciation back for my son any day.

The lesson here is that we all have survival in us.  It's in our blood, because really when you have no other choice, your body and your mind will go into survival mode - as long as you allow yourself to it.  Just take it a moment at a time.  Survival isn't a race.  It's not a competition.  It's about overcoming the worse possible thing that can happen to you, and finding a way to continue on.  For me, it's been appreciating the blessing that Preston was in my life, for the short time he was with us.  It's been sharing my son's smile with the world.  It's been sharing my experience, in the hopes of helping someone.  And I'm proud of my son for taking me down this path.  His smile reminds me every day that happiness exists, even in the darkest of times.  You just have to take it a day, or a moment at a time.