Journal, July 20
The grief comes in waves.
My week at Rancho la Puerta (a wellness retreat) was extremely productive in that I had space to rest, meditate, process, and build some reserves for the next push.
Some of you might wonder if it’s getting easier now, not quite 2 months after John’s death. In a way it is easier in that I’ve found more of a daily rhythm and am sleeping/eating a bit better. On the other hand, my ocean of grief only deepens. In the beginning I was numb – I had to be. There were/are so… many burdens on my shoulders. There are a lot of reasons why I need to hold it together. As the numbness wears off (or, as I turn off my serenity package, per Nexus) I am faced with my pain.
I miss him.
I miss his beard. I miss the crinkly sparkly eyed smile that was just for me. I miss the way I felt when he walked in the door and our eyes locked at the end of a day of work, probably wearing a Pearl Jam tshirt (he owned more than 10) and a pair of jeans (I would have been wearing an apron, a skirt, and legwarmers). I miss how he would unabashedly grab my behind and drag me into the bedroom when the girls weren’t looking. I miss his endless exuberance for all things stinky, dirty, and outdoorsy. I miss how he would always go out onto the dance floor with me, even if we were the only 2 out there.
Yesterday I woke up sobbing, missing him. My brain decided to review every traumatic thing that had happened so far in my life. I added them up together and the sum was still less than the trauma of losing John. I adored him.
The funny thing is, it’s possible to feel so much sorrow yet glowing gratitude at the same time. There is so much love coming to me. I feel it. I feel all of it. I have very little energy to respond to individuals (thus these broadcasts for those of you know want to know we are ok). Regardless, all of the love and light that you send to me – I receive it. It continues to nourish me. Thank you.