To say this week has been tough is an understatement. I still can't wrap my head around the fact that all that has happened has truly happened.
Collin and I have both been suffering from mild insomnia related to our emotional constipation. It seems different to grieve a loss when you have a small child in the picture; one that is completely unable to understand why mommy or daddy is so sad. That's one point where we put up a block. Then there is work; we know we are entitled to bereavement time, and we are taking it. In the same breath there isn't much we can bring ourselves to do to process this life altering event so we go to work, we focus on our duties and push through when a moment's daydream leaves us reeling and on the brink of tears. My only makeup since Monday has been waterproof mascara just to be safe. The time we have taken off we have thrown ourselves into various projects around the house. Collin tearing out the deck, me cleaning and putting things in their places (pictures and such).
Admittedly, we have not allowed ourselves the time to truly feel the loss. I know this is why sleep eludes us, and what does come is restless, fitful, and uncomfortable. Last night, the one semi- "decent" stretch I had I awoke from with a throbbing right arm after having slept on it completely wrong. I swore for a moment that I must've dislocated something.
Today, while on another painful and fruitless adventure, Collin asked what remedies there were to help with the sleeping. I mentioned melatonin (a good natural remedy) but that I wanted to try something else first. He agreed to try whatever I had in mind, so I told him. We need to pick the saddest movie in the world and watch it after the wee one is in bed. We hmmed and hawed about which one to watch and after researching online and seeing what we had readily available to us decided upon Marley and Me.
I know, you're asking how does a movie about a dog help cope with losing a mother. Well, it creates an outlet for you to really relate to and come to grips with the emotions you have been bottling up inside. It really pushed us to think about the pain and sadness of this loss. Even though we had seen the movie before and knew full well how it ended it still sparked the dynamite that blew the dam out of the way. By the end tears were flowing and paper towels were soaked. I know my husband well enough to know he will have no shame in me sharing this, but as Owen Wilson's character said goodbye to his beloved pup both of us were quietly sobbing.
It really brought that pain right up to the surface like a cork in a bowl of water. There was no way to push it back down.
I am now completely exhausted, but as I was starting the dishwasher and as I brushed my teeth all these thoughts about how amazing it felt to have that release began to swirl through my mind. I knew that if I didn't take a small chunk of time to pound this out on the plastic I would miss out on the benefits of feeling all those emotions.
I(we) will be sad for a good while; I am not delusional or sleep deprived enough to think that one good cry over a movie is going to heal the hurt in my heart. At least now, I feel like I am allowing myself to mourn.
It's not all sad though. I am hoping to share another post with you in the coming days. I could share things and thoughts now, but they are so completely contrasting to this that I feel it better saved for its own. The joy of life deserves just as much recognition as the sadness. Never have I experienced them working separately. Where ever the pain is, so too is the joy.
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