MY NORMAL LIFE …
It is amazing what has become "normal" to me. ...
Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetary for Christmas,Valentine's day, and Easter.
Normal is seeing that choclate Easter bunny sitting on the shelf in Wal-Mart trying not to cry when I realize that my baby girl will never get to experience that delightful taste of chocolate.
Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how I feel with people who have also lost a child.
Normal is feeling like I know how to act and am more comfortable with a funeral and being at the cemetery. Yet, feeling a stab of pain in my heart when I smell the flowers, see the casket, and all the crying people.
Normal is feeling like I can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming cause I just don't like to sit through church anymore. And yet feeling like I have more faith and belief in God than I ever have had before.
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when I realize my little girl is missing from all the important events in my families' life.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand 'what if's' and 'why didn't I's' go through my head constantly.
Normal is having the TV on the minute I wake up and the last thing on before I go to sleep at night, because I have the need for noise because the silence is deafening.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of my babies death as if it were an everyday common place activity and then gasping in horror at how awful it sounds.
And yet realizing it has become part of my normal.
Normal is trying to go out to the movies to get my mind off of what is now my normal and having to turn right back around and go home, because I realize that every movie has some sort of violence in it and I just don’t have the strength to deal with it.
Normal is being impatient with everybody, but someone who has be stricken with grief over the loss of their child.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother.
Normal is being too tired to care if I paid the bills, cleaned my house or did my laundry or if there is any food in my house.
And last of all normal is hiding all the things that have become normal for me to feel, so that everyone around me will think that I am "normal".
When I first read this, I felt as though I had written it about my life. It was a turning point for me. I realized I didn’t want the grief to become who I was. If any of you have ever felt this way, and I am certain many of you have experienced some of these feelings (if not all of them), I want you to know that it is “Normal”.
In my next blog, I will tell of the baby steps I had to take which were monumental in my healing process to not allow the grief to become who I am.