It doesn’t kill you. You wish it had, but it doesn’t. I often feel like it’s one of the cruelest things that can happen. You wish for the pain to stop, the utter heartbreak. You wish for the flu or covid or malaria to come strike you down so the pain with be over. But…it doesn’t. Instead, you have to trudge through each day, each memory, each regret and somehow find a way to persevere. It is only after 3 ½ years that I have come to realize, this is not going to kill me. Ugh. I have slowly eased into the idea that it is time to start taking care of myself again. It is time to go to the dentist, time to start eating right and time to start nourishing my mental well-being. Because, after all that has happened it turns out…I’m gonna live.
Holding on to Harrison
Wandering thoughts of a grieving mother...
