Intentional. Complete Surprise.

This sums up today for me. In therapy yesterday we talked a lot about stages of grieving and being intentional. Be intentional in reflecting now. In doing so, it allows one to process through any hang ups or regrets they may have and to move through the sadness/depression with less hurdles down the road. I can honestly say for me the only regret I have is that we were separated for almost a year. I wish we could have had the time as a family. But, given the same scenario again I would have made the same choice. I am beyond grateful we were able to reconcile and have some really great months together as a whole family again making memories. God has us! In end of life, particularly brain cancer, it's not uncommon for the patient to have significant personality changes which, as you can imagine, can be heart breaking and very tough on family and patient alike. We had our challenges early on and we able to enjoy the smart alack gentle giant we all loved. How fortunate were we?! I had the privilege to care for and about Danny and to hold him tight as he entered eternal life. That's a memory only I will ever get to have. It was exactly as it was supposed to be.

Being intentional in reflecting is uncomfortable though. We were together for 14 years. That's a whole lot of memories to work through - some are easier than others. Each produce their own set of emotions. As you can imagine it's a roller coaster of up and down. And frankly, sometimes, I just want to disconnect and not feel anything for a little while. Not happy. Not sad. Not tearful. Not hopeful. Nothing.

Today went fairly well all things considered. I hit the treadmill for the first time in over a week. It felt really good. I showered and was ready to conquer the day - or at least try to get one task crossed off my "to do" list. We worked on laundry. (When I say we I really mean my mom and Jo.) And we started to work on sorting through all the cards and kind words. We also started to work on thank you notes. I've struggled, I mean REALLY struggled, in trying to focus on any one thing since Danny died. It just seems like my brain is incapable of staying on task. "I don't know" is my standard answer these days to nearly any question or decision. Wednesday night was the only night since Danny died that I've been home alone with just the children. Otherwise, there's been someone else with me. Sometimes, I feel like I should have it together and not need so much help. But truly, I'm so grateful for them. They serve as a great distraction for me. They also lovingly help to keep my house going and seem to understand it's not intentional that I let things go undone right now. I just keep trying to remind myself.....in time. It's only been a week. Give yourself time. I did manage to crank out a few thank you notes this afternoon and did fine until dinner time. Like a tidal wave, I was sunk. Sadness came rushing over me and the tears came. Nothing triggered it. Just complete surprise. I found myself missing Danny and feeling this huge void. I sat at supper realizing I would never hear his laughter or see him giving the kids a hard time while we were eating at the dinner table. I opened a card from a friend and a book on grief and again the tears came. I told Jo.....man they weren't kidding when they said the emotions will hit you like a wave!

Getting the kids ready for bed tonight, Avery and Ainsley began to cry. It seems to be routine now that bedtime is a time a reflection for them. A time when the kids miss their daddy. A time when they realize daddy is gone and not coming back. And so we cry. We talk about being sad and that it's okay to cry. We talk about all the people that loved daddy and how they miss him too. We snuggle up and spend time just hugging and being loved on. And then we settle in to bed and pray for peaceful dreams as daddy and Jesus watch over us.