That's 1569 days. Not that I counted each day. I used an internet site to calculate it for me. And that is a change, because last year I figured it out by hand and with a calender.
And that's how the grief is now. Not ritualistic, not pervasive, not to be done in a proper pomp and circumstance kind of way.
The shock is over. The active, constant, crazy grief is over.
It's a settled reality, sunk into and through the core of my being. A part of me, but it does not define me. Can I say that? I think it's true. It doesn't exactly define the current me much more than other things in my past - except that it is from the more recent past.
In some ways, Serenity's death and my grief serve as a compass now. I check myself, 'am I living in a way that honors my first daughter, not taking the time with her little sister for granted?'
The ache is mostly gone. The muscle memory of holding her is barely a faint outline. Her face is indistinct. Now these memories are part of the longing too. I long for her face to be clear to me, but without the intense grief. I suppose I can't have one without the other.
One thing that hasn't changed, I still can't spell grief. I have to correct it almost ever time I type it.
This move makes it seem like I have changed lives. I've also changed how I spend my online time. The blogs that I couldn't once live without reading are now mixed in with posts about making sauerkraut and blogs outlining how to make toothpaste from coconut oil and blogs about how not to yell at your children. And my own blog collects dust. Not that I have really found other ways to express myself, but that I just am not expressing myself.
And what I am working through has changed. Now it is all strife about raising a toddler and finding my happiness and minimizing and simplifying.
But I doubt I can ever complete a 100 thing challenge, when I hold on to pictures of hands and feet and clips of hair and a hat worn for a scant few hours.
And I find it hard to decide on, focus on and move towards something that will 'make' me happy in life. Because I just don't know what that is.
I don't feel guilty much anymore when I am happy, although many times we will be enjoying a day - at the garden or flying a kite in the park - and I will see a butterfly and think of Serenity or see two siblings and think of all that Beanie is missing.
I am in the limbo of grief. Grief doesn't dictate my life. If I need to get something done I can turn my distracted mind away from the darkness. But I find it hard to - I don't know - dream of my future maybe. I think this is one reason why I have come back to the blogs. To seek support and advice and work through Right Where I Am now.
I haven't re-read my post from last year yet. And here is the link back to the original inspiration. Thanks yet again, Angie, and much love to you.
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