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Hits and Misses

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Last weekend we had a free movie weekend from some of the pay movie networks. I love this! I can watch all the movies I want, and since I can’t afford pay movie channels anymore, it feels like such a luxury. Being a couch potato, I was really looking forward to watching movies, cable TV series, and just relaxing with my kids.


So on Sunday, we were looking for a family movie to watch together. Marley and Me was one of the choices. My older son was worried about how sad it would be. I assured him it was sad, but a good movie most of the time and when it was all over it would be more happy than sad. So we turned on the possibly sad movie. I have seen it before, a while ago, and remember it being a good movie. I knew it was sad at the end, but as I watched, something hit me. It hit me and blew the wind out of me and brought back how much I miss my husband, my marriage. I didn’t expect it. As I watched the relationship between husband and wife in the movie, I was heartbroken all over again. I don’t remember this from the last time I watched the movie, but all that building of relationship and family and the honesty they portray as children enter their relationship hit a chord this time.


That’s the thing with my grief. I think it’s probably similar with others too. As much as I learn my triggers … those days, times, smells, movies, books, sunsets, songs … all of the sudden, something can jump out of nowhere and it becomes an emotional journey transporting me back to a place where missing my husband feels consuming again. Most days now, five years later, I am not consumed by my grief. Most days I walk through pretty normally … well, my new normal. I can suppress my sadness, my loss, my heartbreak, and be, well, for all intents and purposes, a functioning person.


Learning my triggers was crucial in the early days of my grief just to navigate a day. As time has progressed, a balance has been achieved that allows me to control most of those triggers. It really is hit and miss though. Even now, the profoundness of my loss still penetrates my soul, my being. There are those moments when who am now compared to who I was before he died leave me wondering how did I get here?


During my days in grief support, we were all looking for answers. I wanted answers to the “Why me?” Well, why not me? I wanted answers to “When will the pain end?” “When will I feel better?” “How will I ever survive?” Unfortunately, no one could answer those questions for me. I had to muddle through the asking just the same as anyone else. My answers are going to be different than anyone else … my boys will each have to muddle through their questions too. Hitting, missing, and some days gratefully dodging our pain. I guess the point would just be to do it. To allow the hits to hit me and sometimes knock me out. To allow those times when I am missing my old life so much to stay until they are ready to go, and to be grateful on those days when I dodge the bullet of grief and move closer to who I am to become.

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