Grief is a funny thing. It isn’t the hard times that take my breath away. It is when everything is going along fine, then it creeps up behind you and suddenly you are standing in the middle of Whole Foods trying to catch your breath and praying the chest pains ease. That was today. It was abnormally wonderful outside. It rained a little bit last night so the air was warm and moist this morning. The sun burned off the fog quickly and a gentle breeze blew. Jared and I got into it a little this morning and before I finished angry ranting in my head while I took the girls to school he called to say sorry and all sorts of sweet nothings. Really, it was a great start to the day.
I went to physical therapy and stopped by the coffee shop to catch up on email and got to chat for a while with a friend. I went home and decided to leave the mess and sit on the cough and bask in the glorious weather. After leftover pizza (my most favorite lunch ever!) I went to go get Chloe from school. I decided that we would go to Whole Foods for jelly beans and disguised the trip by getting some cucumbers and celery for juicing along with some milk and a kale smoothie. So there I am, waiting for my smoothie and I remember we need coffee. I ask Chloe if she wants to get it on her own. She then walks around the corner and comes back with a bag of her dads favorite beans. It was so simple, too simple.
I took my smoothie from the counter while Chloe put the beans in the cart. We strolled over to the milk section, Chloe pushing the cart and me just walking along, sippin’ my smoothie and that is when it hit. I don’t know that I have ever walked through a grocery store not pushing or carrying something. It literally took my breath away. It was one of those happy things that is sad because it is so foreign. It was a painful reminder of the reality of my motherhood. From there we went to pick out flowers for me. Chloe surprised me with purple tulips, for Rett Syndrome. We added red too, for mommy.
Mother’s Day isn’t easy and for many of you it is more complicated than I wish it was. To my friends that don’t have all their babies home to kiss, to those that can’t call their mom to say hello, to those out in Rettland that will look deeply into their daughters eyes and wonder, I send my love to you all, it is an honor to get to walk on this journey together and I hope that you get a day or an hour or a few minutes where you are made to feel like the gift to humanity that you are.
4 thoughts on “Grief Unexpected”
I love that you had a happy outing. I’m so sorry it was a sad one too. Whole Foods can do that. $30 for raw honey?! WTH. Seriously tho….. 😉 Reminders of grief hit at the most random moments in the most random places. It’s funny what upsets us, whether it be something we can control, or not in our control at all. What we let eat us inside. I keep seeing this old guy at the park. He looks JUST like my dad, and every time I walk past him and he always…never…looks like him. It triggers tears, b/c I feel like he’s still here. That I’ll call, and he’ll pick up. *sigh* You are by far, one of the strongest, most genuinely loving, upbeat positive mothers I’ve ever met. You were chosen for this journey b/c of your inner light that glows. I am grateful to be apart of this walk with you! Hugs to you, Jared, Claire and Chloe! xoxo
Thank you C! I am so glad to have you and your beautiful family so close and along on this journey with us. xx
to live in such a state of awareness has to be exhausting…thank you for sharing it with us…
April, it is exhausting. Thank you so much for realizing that. This comment means so so much to me. Love you!