Do any of you use mantras? Self-affirmations? Have any key words that keep you moving?
Ever since I lost Michael, people keep telling me how strong I am. It makes me cringe, actually. I’m not strong. I’m broken. The fact that I wake up every day has nothing to do with strength. It has to do with courage.
There was a time in my life when I told myself to stay strong. When what I strived to be was strong. There have been many, many times in my life when I have been called upon to be the strong one. And perhaps I was? But here’s the thing. Back to the broken plate analogy. Every time I broke, I came back a LITTLE more fractured. A LITTLE more weakened. But I always came through in big ways when I was needed. It was a big part of who I was. Strong. Reliable. Capable.
Now, what I strive to be is brave. Every day is a battle as I face a life I never wanted, a new life that isn’t comfortable for my spirit. New energies in the house with lots of puppies and people in transition. Lots of emotions and surprise breakdowns for me.
I’m confused about what I want. I’m confused about where I want it and who I want it with. Nothing needs to be decided today, but the new me comes with a new sense of urgency to make every day count and not waste one moment being more miserable than I need to be.
My health sucks. I don’t even want to go into it. My health insurance hasn’t been decoded yet because it makes my brain hurt. That’s all I’m going to say about that.
The puppies are delightful in every way. They’re a LOT of work. I miss Michael all the time, but I really miss the groove we had when we fostered. We never had to talk about it, we just went into worker bee mode when we had litters of puppies. We knew the system, did our parts, and it was seamless! And now all of a sudden, I don’t remember any of it. When did we feed puppies? How did we separate momma? The physical care part is second nature to me, but I cannot for the life of me remember how we’ve done this in the past, so I’m stumbling through the logistics a bit. Jeni came over and took the most beautiful photos of all of them! For now, I’ll just show you this one. ❤
And this ADORABLE picture of Josie ❤
The new litter is darling. However, right when they arrived, my original litter started breaking with snotty noses and wet coughs. Luckily it proved nothing serious, but I really couldn’t ensure that cross-contamination wouldn’t happen between the litters. With so many unvaccinated puppies here, I decided that the youngest litter needed to go to Jeni’s (my Operations Manager) for their safety. My puppies are still boogery, but they seem to be improving after a few days on antibiotics.
The tinies are beagle mixes and they are SOOOOO tiny! Their eyes are just opening. I feel a little like a failure because they had to move, but I keep telling myself it’s not because I don’t love them. I love them enough to move them. Their health comes first. But man, I wish I could have them here. ❤
The loose, flailing hose is still a really accurate description of my life. I’m working very hard at staying centered and grounded. I’m doing a PRETTY good job of it. If I could describe what an emotion LOOKS like, I visualize my grief/ my reality/ my LIFE as if I am standing at the ocean’s edge facing a wave that is rising in the distance. As it approaches, it becomes so huge and overwhelming that it terrifies me. I feel my feet dig deeper into the sand as it rises in front of me, preparing for it to envelop me and pull me back out into the ocean, pushing me deeper and deeper as it does. And for some reason, I don’t make any effort to escape it. I don’t turn and run to the shore. I brace myself as if I know this is something I must do. I know I might die. But I know I have to stand. The wave crashes over me hard. It takes me down and I feel like I’m gulping down massive amounts of water. I can’t make sense of up or down. I don’t know where the surface of the water is. I don’t see anything, I just let the water take me. But instinct kicks in and I swim. And somehow, I make it through that wave. It beat the shit out of me. I’m choking up water and gasping for air, treading water and just looking back at that wave in disbelief. I’m exhausted. Weak. Disoriented. But I was brave. I faced it. Woohoo! And as I turn, I see it. Another wave on the horizon.
And so it goes. Grieving what should have been but what will never be. Missing a man I will never see again. Yes, I’m living. No, I’m not stuck. I just miss him and I’ll never be the strong woman I was.
Here’s to being brave another day. ❤