Love Heals

Grief plays funny tricks on the mind. I’ve gone from smiling and laughing to crying to numb in minutes. I’m angry at nothing. I can’t put my finger on anything. I feel like a shell of myself going through these motions waiting for life. At times I feel physically sick. At times I feel like I can do this. Then I get there, and it’s gone. Your mom cried in my arms last night standing in the kitchen. Keller, you watched and just said kept asking “whatchu doing mommy?” and “wasa wrong mommy?” It allows me to laugh, you’ve been the best thing in the world through all of this. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know where I’d be. I can’t comfort her, because I don’t know how to comfort me. My face hurts from the tears. My mind gets fixated on things, then runs through a series of unrelated, and insignificant events from the past. I look for escape and that answer is you. You allow me to breath, to be, to continue to exist with a purpose. I drove to my workout this morning, then turned around and came home. I crawled in the bed with you, and you laid on my chest for an hour or so before doing your normal kicks, turns, and flips. Those magical moments allow me to forget how much this hurts, that you’re still here, that you need guidance, protection, and love. I hope I never fail you in those, but especially love.