Sunday, October 13, 2013

Two weeks.

Friday, October 11th at 5:42pm was two weeks since my dear boy left his broken body behind and woke up in Heaven.

Two weeks. 

It feels like so long.  

Too long. 

Maggie's 12th birthday was just a few short days after Wyatt died. We invited a small group of people to our home that evening as we knew the sleepover party she was looking forward to for months that was planned for the day after his funeral needed to be postponed. Before everyone arrived on her Birthday Maggie took it upon herself to tape a hand written sign to our front door that read; "This is not a party. This is a small gathering." Those two sentences spoke loudly to me about her feelings. I was not feeling up to hosting a party or even a small gathering at that point in time either, but she seemed pleased to open her birthday presents and spend time with those who love her.

This evening was her "official" party that we had postponed. There is currently a small group of girls giggling into the wee hours of the morning somewhere in amongst all the pillows, sleeping bags and blankets that are scattered across the living room. She seems to be having a lot of fun.

This last week the girls went back to school. Monday morning Jilly came to me before walking out the door with Daddy to go to the bus stop. She gave me a hug, I kissed her cheek and she kissed mine, just as we always do. She looked around a second, not sure what to do, and then she looked up. She waved to the air and said "Bye Wyatt." She's never left for school without saying goodbye to her Brother before, but this is her new way. She talks to Wyatt and waves to Heaven wherever she may be.

As the girls were both in school Bryan and I left the house together, just the two of us, for the first time in years. We were even able to have a lunch date Thursday afternoon. We actually ate in a's been so long! Right now, though, as I'm typing, we've retreated to our bedroom as the gaggle of tween girls have taken over the downstairs. Bryan is dozing off as I continue typing with the computer on my lap. We have no meds to infuse, or the need to suction, or monitors to watch, or the need to discuss the appointments or phone calls for the following day, or a small hand to hold, or a boy to talk to.

Maybe you just noticed I mentioned retreating to our bedroom...

Yes. It's true. 

Come the middle of the week we took a deep breath and made ourselves walk up the stairs to sleep in our real bed that has been waiting patiently for us. The night Wyatt left our home I cried a cry that came from deep within my heart as I folded up the pull out bed for the last time. I could never bear sleeping there without him beside me. So I tried to sleep on the actual couch and Bryan in the recliner. I didn't sleep much at all before this last week...not because of where I set up my makeshift bed each night, but just because. But this week we felt it was time we transitioned ourselves back to our bedroom like most normal people, even though I don't feel normal at all. It hasn't been an easy transition, though I didn't really expect it to be. The tears come easily as I lay my head against my pillow each night. It's in the quiet moment before I fall asleep, when I would always kiss his cool, squishy cheek one more time before falling asleep holding his hand, that the feelings hit me again.

Monday Bryan will go back to work. The girls have off school for Columbus day, but on Tuesday they will be in school, Bryan at work and I'll be alone for the first time. I've been thinking about what I will do to pass the time.

 What do normal people do during the day?

I can only shop so much...retail therapy is a great thing, but there is a limit. And I've hit that limit within the last two weeks. I'll be sure to let you know what I come up with to fill my hours before the girls come home again.

In some ways it feels as if everyone else's life has just paused for a moment. They took a short leave, a day or two, a week or so, a few hours, but their life then resumes and picks up much like it left off. But that's not the case with mine. There is no going back to my life, I can't restart, resume or pick up where I left off.

My life stopped. 

I imagine it's normal to feel this way as it's true in some ways. I know I will figure out what to do and where to go from here in time. But right now, as everyone else picks up where they left off, it's difficult as I need to completely start over.

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  1. Once more, I am in awe of how you have articulated your feelings, Ashley. Your writings provoke so much thought and emotion. For some reason, I feel a need to reach out, yet I have no words, no experience, no wisdom. I think of you all often and we are continuing to lift you up to the Lord in prayer.

  2. Take one day at a time. Breathe. Just breathe. And then pray that God will guide you through the minutes of each day ahead and give you the strength you need to find your way. As I've grown older I've learned that time is simply something we can't control......ever. When we need it to slow down, it speeds up and when we need it to hurry, it seems to take forever to get to the place we want it to be. Take one breath, one step at a time. God is always with you. Remember the "Footprints In The Sand" story.

  3. a blogger I read has a chapter in this book which is available for free until Oct. 17 for download. its a book for grieving mothers. I am so sorry you are in this club.

  4. People say, "Find a new normal."

    But what normal is
    ~ that,
    no one can tell.

    Wyatt, I say hello to you, are There.

    And we are here.

    Now, what...?

    With you in spirit, reading, thinking, remembering.