It started out pretty normal. Sitting quietly in my usual spot. Fan humming softly in the background. My breath steady and calm.
The first 10 minutes or so were relatively quiet. A random thought about the upcoming day would pop up and then drift away. Another to-do floats by. I notice it and let it pass.
Then all hell breaks loose.
I'm working with mindfulness and being present with whatever comes up. I'm trying to be fully present in the moment and just notice the thoughts and feelings. "What is coming up for you?" is a question I hear often in my quiet time.
What came up out of no where this time was a full blown tidal wave of grief.
One moment I'm sitting, breathing, noticing the ground beneath me, the fan humming beside me, the cool air on my skin. The next moment there are tears streaming down my face. There is a deep, almost burning, pain in my throat as it suddenly swells and I feel like I have to struggle to breathe. My entire being is overwhelmed by a sadness so strong and so deep and so very real that it takes everything in me to just keep breathing.
My heart feels like someone has it in an iron grip trying to wring every last drop of blood out of it, twisting and wringing it excruciatingly in opposite directions. My pulse quickens as my heart desperately tries to escape.
I am suddenly swimming in a dark whirlpool of chaotic grief.
In just a little over two weeks my family will change again in a very real way. First (two years ago) it was the divorce and now (in two weeks) it's my move. My youngest and I will be moving to Texas and my two bigger kids are staying here in Philly.
This is a decision which I have agonized over for a very long time. I have spent so much time in prayer and thoughtful consideration talking this over and over again with the many wise counselors (family and friends) in my life. The consensus has been that the move is what is best for me and my kiddos (originally it included all of my children, until the eldest two made the decision to stay here with their dad).
I knew their choice to remain here was a possibility. It will be my oldest's senior year. So I kind of guessed he might stay. My middle has decided she wants to stay with her friends here rather than move.
Once I made the final decision to move I felt a very real peace about it. And in spite of their choice to stay here, I still know without a doubt that I'm making the right choice. But that knowledge doesn't help me process through the overwhelming feelings of sadness that I'm drowning in.
I want to run away from it more than words can ever begin to explain.
I don't want to worry about planning custody schedules and visitation. I don't want to be able to easily count out how many days in the year I'll spend with them.
I want my family to just be a family. Together.
I want to hear the backdoor slide open in the afternoon and get to holler, "Hey babe! How was school?" and hear my middle one answer, without thinking that in another week or so I will never do that with her again.
I don't want to miss the minute of conversation I get with my son between the time he gets in from school and before the video game gets started. It's only a minute, but I never take it for granted. And next school year I won't have that. I wanted one more year.
My heart broke when my marriage ended. And now my heart is breaking again.
I keep feeling like I've honored and given space for all of these emotions to rise to the surface. I keep hoping that this tear is the last tear. Then the tidal wave happens again.
I am a mom. I always wanted to be a mom. I love being a mom. I knew my kids would eventually go off on their own. I knew we would not always live under the same roof. This is just SO not the way it was supposed to happen.
So as the sadness swirls and crashes around me I will do my best to stay afloat. I'm drenched in tears and my chest is so very, very heavy. I am working, struggling, to just be present in the moment. But when the present is so painful this shit gets awful difficult to sit with.
No comments:
Post a Comment