Tidal Wave

I feel like I have to note that I have tried several times in the last week or two to put together a post, but I am feeling so stuck that I'm having a hard time getting anything to come out the way I want it to.  We have been struggling so much and for me, that manifests itself in a complete inability to do most of the things that I need to get done...the girls get fed, cleaned and cuddled each day but sometimes that's where the accomplishment ends.  I have an ever-growing list of tasks that I need to complete, but I just can not seem to do them. What I do wind up getting done is all the little stuff that doesn't take much thought or effort but the bigger, more difficult stuff keeps getting put off. (Points in case...we still haven't contacted the funeral home, our car has needed a new battery for a month, I have three different bills to call and fight insurance about...the list just keeps going.)  Part of my purpose in this italicized note is to explain why I just haven't posted in a while...the other part of my purpose is try to explain one more facet of grief that doesn't typically pop to mind.  

I have a post in draft form from last week where I stated that I felt like we were pretty stable right now and things had leveled out a bit. I hadn't found a time to edit it like I wanted, so I just let it sit.  I took a look at it again today and realized that it just isn't relevant right now.

Because right now? We feel like we are falling apart all over again.  This past week has easily been the worst week we've had since we got the diagnosis...and honestly, I can't figure out exactly why.  There have been a few little things that have come up (mostly bill-related stuff) and we are feeling more tired than usual...but nothing that seems to warrant the depression that has taken over our whole house.

I saw a post recently by another mom who described grief as kind of being like a tidal wave...one minute you are fine, sitting on the beach with your toes in relatively dry sand.  Before you know what happened, you get swallowed up by this giant wave and have no option but just to ride it out and pray for it to end soon.  Right now, I really can't think of a more accurate way to describe what has happened in the last week.

Chris and I have had several discussions recently about how we seemed to be doing pretty well and wondered if maybe we weren't grieving like we should be... turns out it just comes and goes, because a few nights ago, I started crying and just couldn't stop.  It was easily the hardest I've cried since we got the diagnosis in October and it seemed like it just came out of nowhere.

In reality, I know it was just another step in this whole process because we've been working on dealing with feelings as they come up naturally.  We make it a point not to force conversation, but when one of us has something that we need to talk about, it takes priority over all the other stuff that's going on and when it's just the two of us, we'll take a chance to talk.  Even when our talks end in those gasping sobs like the other night, I'm glad we can have them.  I'm so thankful that we aren't trying to hide from this and that we both have a safe place where we can talk about all of those things that roll around in your mind that you dare not say to anyone else...because, sometimes, when the sobs finally stop and you can breathe again, you find that a little piece of you has healed.