Anxiety. Grabbing your chest in a tight ball. Stealing your breath from you. Stealing your sleep and your peace and your energy.
I’ve been down in Texas a few days visiting for a close friend’s wedding I’m in and each morning I’ve woken up before the sun with anxiety. Anxious about being back home for only a short time. That I am but 3 hours drive from the cemetery where Drew is buried and I will not be able to go there. To the place that is most sacred to me. Standing on the beach where I grew up - the place my soul is connected to more than anywhere else on this earth, and knowing that I have to leave it again already tomorrow.
Anxious that I will only see friends and family for a few hours each. And then must say goodbye again, not knowing when I will see any of them again. Anxious about my friend’s wedding in which all sorts of things have gone horribly wrong and I feel helpless and unable to do anything about it. Thinking about this kind of milestone in my own life - which will no doubt bring more layers of grief and sadness since I never got to marry Drew. There is no way around it, this is hard.
It’s very cold here.
Winter has settled upon this sleepy town in which I reside. Snow has fallen and ice has wrapped herself around anything and everything within her reach, clutching as if desperate.
I, too, am desperate. Desperate to come in from the cold I was involuntarily tossed out into a short while ago. Desperate to come in and feel the warmth once more.
Every now and then, I get a glimpse of it. This week, I felt a bit of warmth again. It’s not exactly where I want to be just yet, but it was comforting. It was hopeful.
I walked this road alone for so long. I knew there were others out there doing the same thing, but this week...I felt like they were walking alongside me.
Are we able to keep each other warm? It takes a bit of tact and putting aside our pride in order for that to happen, but it is possible. My road in grief has been a steady climb of hope.
Hope that one day I can see these goals I’ve set come to fruition. Hope that one day I can help others do the same. Hope that one day when I leave this world that Lila will carry on that same perspective albeit a more refined one.
My cold desires warmth.
My soul desires shelter.
My skies long to be painted in twilight.
And I will get there one day. One day, I will come in from the cold, feel the warmth, and see that everything is as it should be.
For now, I’m just walking in the snow.
Lately, Ive been feeling some sort of way.
Sick, but not like flu sick.
Something feels off.
I feel off.
Everything seems like
Im not quite sure what this is.
But I do know what it is.