What I am hearing: MK is working with Christopher on writing his name. Layn is doing a math test and I can hear his whispering the problems to himself. Rebekah is putting the magnetic alphabet letters in place.
Outside my window: it is cold, 34 degrees, and misting out. I don't think the sun is going to make an appearance today. The snow is supposed to start later this evening and judging by the temps the last few days a bit of it might stick.
What I'm wearing: blue and pink PJ's with a grey plaid shawl over it all. I have difficulty lately getting myself going on a gloomy Monday morning.
What I am thinking: honestly, not past the next sentence. I go through days when the regular tasks of life are no trouble at all. Then there are days when the mere act of getting out of bed is about all I can swing.
What I am learning: I read online, somewhere, that there are no rules when you are struggling with grief. Not no rules globally. Of course there are rules. I am talking about those seemingly hard and fast rules that are really arbitrary. Rules like having to make your bed every day, or whether house chores should be started and completed in the morning so that the more leisurely tasks should wait until chores are done. I'm finding that laundry can be done whenever I can get the energy to do it. Floors can be swept when I want to sweep them and not necessarily every morning. Do I intend to continue this way for the rest of my life? I hope not. I do enjoy my routine and order but for now that routine and order are obstacles that I find it difficult to overcome.
What I am hoping: to find the patience to deal with the changes that are on my horizon.
What I am working on: certainly not sewing. There are plenty of other things to occupy my time. I have to start a new book but not finish it. Wandering from room to room takes up a big chunk of time. While trying to remember what I had intended to do and what I have been looking for are on the top of my to do list.
What I am planning: I am planning on making it through this day so that I can pass another sleepless night.
Picture thoughts for today:
There is nothing quite as compelling as a pile of sand to a little boy.
No matter the age or size boys are hard wired to dig.
Thankfully dad and grandpa have saved a pile of broken shovels for "someday" when they will get to fixing them. It turns out they are the perfect size for 7 year olds.
Then there are chickens to be watched.
1 comment:
Hi Ann, I'm praying for you, thank you for your honest words, the courage to share your pain. My mom was around our age and my step daddy was right at Doug's age when he suddenly passed away from a heart attack. It broke our hearts and I know your heart is broken too. I've heard grief is like a jagged line, up and down but ascending. I know for us, it was that way. My mom just hung on to God and I know you are too.
Love, Amelia
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