I Don’t Know How I’m Doing

People see me, these years and months after Dominic left us and ask, “How are you doing?”

I come up with an answer because that’s the law of conversation-you ask something and I answer, then I ask something and you answer.

are-you-ok

Gotta keep that ball rolling.  

If it drops we are both forced to stand there wondering what to do with our bodies, our faces and our thoughts.

But right now, I don’t know HOW I’m doing.

I am definitely past the crying-every-single-day stage.  The deep sense of loss still strangles me but I’ve learned to pretend it’s not there and just keep on keeping on.

I can look at his photo (most times) and not feel the sucker punch as my heart realizes-once again-he is not coming back.  

Ever.

I’ve developed routines to work around the hardest part of a week-Friday night into Saturday morning-so my mind and body follow the rut like cows headed to water.

cowpath

One-foot-in-front-of-the-other.

“A thousand mile journey begins with the first step” and all that.

I try to lean into the life I have NOW.  The life I would have never imagined or chosen for myself but the one I wake up to every day.

There is no EASY way to lose a child but I almost envy parents whose child’s death has given them a cause to fight for. Sometimes the circumstances surrounding loss lend themselves to a crusade which at least gives a parent somewhere to focus his or her sorrow.

What can I say about Dominic’s leaving?

Don’t ride motorcycles?

Sure, but that was my position before they were ever purchased.  I was always only barely able to contain my anxious thoughts as my sons went from here to there on two wheels with no protective shell.

I’ve learned to push down the pain and that means I stuff every other feeling as well.

I can’t select JUST the pain to hold inside.

So that leaves me here-not knowing how I’m doing.

Am I better?  

Healing?

Or just plain numb because to feel whatever I’m really feeling is too hard to embrace?

I have no idea.

smile-question

 

 

Author: Melanie

I am a shepherd, wife and mother of four amazing children, three that walk the earth with me and one who lives with Jesus. This is a record of my grief journey and a look into the life I didn't choose. If you are interested in joining a community of bereaved parents leaning on the promises of God in Christ, please like the public Facebook page, "Heartache and Hope: Life After Losing a Child" and join the conversation.

5 thoughts on “I Don’t Know How I’m Doing”

  1. November 10th marks my first year without Brenton. So from now until that day, are days filled with “lasts”. The last I spoke to him, the last weekend spent as a family together, the “lasts” before the “firsts” started. It is becoming tough as the day comes closer. I hope I am have as strong as you have shown me over the last few months reading your blog. I know this is going to be a rough few weeks ahead and there is no preparation you can do for it but sit down, buckle up, and hold on for the ride.

    Thanks for your blogs they always help!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I will be thinking of you and praying for you and your family these next weeks, especially. Thank you for the words of encouragement. And, you’re absolutely right-all we can do is hold on for the ride-even when it’s one we wish we didn’t have to take.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. How do you say I’m not doing great but I’m not doing terrible? Could be better, could be worse? People don’t really want to hear that I don’t think. I think it makes them uncomfortable and sometimes I just don’t want to open up that door for comments that may cause me more harm than good. So I say I’m doing alright and try to change the subject quickly. It doesn’t matter what I do, the ache is there, the missing, the shock of remembering, the dread of living the rest of my life without him.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Melanie,
    Your posts always put into words exactly how my heart feels. The days I feel numb are still weird to me. I wonder why and what’s wrong with me. But your sentence about pushing down the pain along with every other feeling make sense. I think about your post “It’s Complicated” so often. Those who aren’t walking this terrible path can’t possibly understand. And those of us who are have to take one day at a time, maybe one breath at a time. I hope you find something today that encourages your precious heart. Hugs!

    Liked by 1 person

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