Positively February: Day 3

"Healing takes time and you are doing the best you can.  And that is perfect."

I'm unsure of the author of this quote, but this is something I need to be reminded of often.  Maybe less now, but for months and months I struggled with the fact that I'd have a really good day... and the following day I'd feel like I was hitting rock bottom.

Healing is a process that I will live with forever - with regards to my physical and mental health.  With my physical health, having Crohn's means that I will inevitably one day have another flare-up.  I will need extra medications to bring down the inflammation in my intestines and scar tissue will build up.  Hopefully, the flare-ups happen few and far between which would mean a lower chance of repeated bowel resection surgeries.

With my mental health, I don't foresee there being a day where I don't think about my son.  Thinking about my son doesn't always make me sad, but it happens.  I miss him every day, but I know that it's unhealthy physically and mentally for me to immerse myself into sadness all the time.  So I try the best I can not to.  It happens that I fail completely.  It happens that I let the anger get the best of me.  I do let the guilt eat at my soul, try as I may not to.  There are days where all I want to do is scream, and shout and kick whatever is in the way.

It's all in futility though.  Nothing will bring back Preston.  All I can do is embrace this path of healing, and live a life that honors the memory of my son.  My son has given me so much, and part of it is this journey down the path of healing.  It's opened my eyes to so much.

So I welcome the healing, and the bad days.  The days of regression and of deep grief.  All I can do, is take it a step at a time.  And that is, just as quoted, perfect.

Time Paradox

I've mentioned it before, I'm a huge General Hospital fan.  I've been watching since before I was a teenager and have gone on very few breaks.  I used to tape the episodes on our VCR, and now thanks to DVRs, I never miss an episode.  Some of the funniest lines I've heard have come from this show.  And some of the deepest.  A couple weeks ago Carly said the following:

Bad things happen fast, but we have to deal with them slow.

It struck all my brain cells and tugged at my heart.  I don't know that there is a better way to describe the tragedy that is losing your child.  This line hit me so hard, that I don't remember why Carly was saying this, and to whom.  Regardless, she is right.  Time often seems to be a paradox.  It moves at the same rate every day, yet sometimes it appears to go at the speed of light, and other times, it moves as slow as a snail.

The day Preston passed away was probably one of the slowest days I've ever lived through.  The ride to the hospital was excruciatingly slow.  The traffic didn't help.  It felt like we were in a time warp, when we spent time in the ER holding our little boy.  You could feel every second tick by, making it seem like the events that had unraveled weren't reality.  The next days, weeks and even months did not move much faster.  The endless nights of insomnia, of tossing and turning, of feeling like I was supposed to be doing something, only to be reminded that my routine had no more purpose were just that - endless.  There were moments of reprieve once the weekend came and I got some sleep, only thanks to Xanax.

Yet, it all happened in the blink of an eye.  One minute he was breathing, one second later he was not and it was over.  There was no warning.  There was no window of time where he could have been saved, as much as I would have liked to believe it.

The experience is similar when I think of being sick.  In the bat of an eyelash I was in excruciating pain caused by blockages in my intestines.  I was fine one day, I was not the next.  I made it through a day of work, but once I got home, it was now unbearable.  And again, dealing with it, I remember seeing the clock tick-tock by oh-so slowly.  The wait in the emergency room, which really was quick, felt like hours.  The wait for a doctor again, was probably minutes, yet it felt like a whole evening.  The wait for the administration of morphine for some relief, even longer.  The days without eating felt like weeks.  The week in the hospital felt like a month.  The recovery, it was actually slow, but it felt even slower because of everything I couldn't do.

Time can feel like torture.  Time can seem to have disappeared.  While I continue to heal on this journey of grief, it is an extremely slow journey.  I will continue to be on this journey for the rest of my days, I'm certain of it.  And still, it seems unreal that all this happened over 10 months ago.  It feels "wrong" that I'm approaching the one year mark of this terrible event that changed my life forever.  That same fact is scary, because it's been a long journey.  A painful journey.  A healing journey.

I fear, I will never understand time...

Time Conundrum

I spent my train ride home pondering the past couple weeks.  They have been remarkably busy with year end approaching at work, Christmas gifts to figure out and buy, holiday parties in addition all the routine things that need to be done around the house.  I haven't seen the time go by.  I can't fathom that we are nearing the 9 month mark that will mean that Preston has been gone for 9 whole months.

Time has been flying by, and I often wonder if it's a good thing or a bad thing.  On one side, being as busy as I am at work makes the days appear to last just a couple of hours.  It's lunchtime before I know it and the next time I look at the clock, I'm 15 minutes away from "quittin' time".  Days are gone in the blink of an eye and that's good because it keeps me from drowning in sorrow.  At the same time, I often don't know where the time's gone and I feel like I'm always forgetting to do something.  Staying too busy at work and at home feels like it may be warping time.

But it's my coping mechanism, and I'm ever so thankful for it.  As my friend Krystal says, every day is one day close to being reunited with Preston.  Since I long for that day, I will welcome my time conundrum and rejoice that another day has gone by.  Let them flow...

Fly by time, by all means

These are my Preston boots.  I have a hard time believing that I bought them over 2 months ago.  I have a harder time with the realization that November is almost over, and that the year is rapidly coming to an end.  This year, like every other year has gone by quickly.  Preston's been gone for 8 months now.  I have a hard time acknowledging that fact.  Shouldn't time feel like every second is being dragged out?  

At times, it really does.  When I feel sad and when I miss Preston so much that it aches, the minutes couldn't be going slower.  And I do miss him so much every day, but I think that time, is making it more bearable.  Somehow.  It's possible that I change my mind tomorrow.  The twists and turns of grief.  As I type this, I already feel that guilt creeping in.  Why can I miss my son and bear it? Shouldn't I be miserable all the time?

I often hear or read others telling me how strong I am.  At times, I believe it.  Most of the time though, I just feel that I'm doing what anyone else in my shoes does.  I continue on because I have to. I may be strong, but for the most part, I'm just surviving.  I'm keeping busy, which is probably the main reason time seems to fly by so swiftly.

I'm currently riding a wave that is gentle and smooth.  I see the happiness that exists around me.  Preston seems to have a way to make me see the best in everything around me.  Maybe I don't want to see the bad, because I've dealt with so much of it.  I've always been optimistic, but I feel like he's shown me the light that exists in the world.  #SpreadHappinessForPreston showed me how much people really care about those around them.  They really care about making the world a happy place.

I didn't have a lot of direction with this post.  Perhaps that's why I struggled with a title for quite a while.  I guess if I have a point it is this: Breathe in the good times.  When you are humming along smoothly, acknowledge what you are appreciating.  When the wind eventually brings a storm, do what you have to do to get through it, and don't let anyone tell you that you're doing it wrong.  We all deal with situations differently.  Do what feels right for you.

That being said, to go back to the question I asked myself earlier: Shouldn't I be miserable all the time?  Losing my son broke my heart.  Losing Preston is something I think about every day.  I love my son just as much as if he was here for me to hold.  That will never go away.  There is no day that will go by where I won't think about him.  For my sanity, for my heart to heal, I need elements of happiness in my life.  I need to lead the busy life I've become accustomed to.  I thrive on being busy all day at work, with no reprieve.  I really do.  I probably do more now than ever.  All that often brings me some joy, and makes time go by really quickly.  Would time moving slower help me?  As Krystal told me a couple times, every day, I'm one day closer to seeing Preston again.  Fly by time, by all means :)