“If you are going through hell, keep going.” Winston Churchill
What an emotional rollercoaster it has been for the past 22 months. 22 months. How can that be?
Then I realize that I have made it through the past 642 days. 642 days since the loss of the best thing that has ever happened to me and my children. I’m doing this. I’m not curled up in my bed. I haven’t been committed to an insane asylum (quite frankly, most days I think I already live in one!). I haven’t turned to illegal drugs (yet 😉 ). I even had to do the calculation to figure out the 642 days part! For so long, I felt the sadness and despair–every Wednesday, then without even noticing it, every 27th of the month. I don’t know how long its been since I even realized it was the 27th of the month.
Not a day (or probably even an hour) goes by when I don’t think about Jake. How could I not? He’s a part of me and holy shit–he’s literally a part of my kids. Nearly every day I stop because of a joke, a facial expression, or catch of a profile of one of my kids and it floors me how much that kiddo IS Jake at that time.
It is so incredibly sad.
Since that very first Wednesday when our lives were changed forever, people have told me I am strong. I have always brushed those comments off. But in the last few weeks, something changed. It was like someone slapped me and a light bulb appeared above my head. I am strong. If I could get through the past 642 days, I can get through pretty much anything. Are there worse things than what happened on August 27, 2014? Absolutely. Good grief–I hope to never, ever have to experience anything worse and I wish the same for my family and for Jake’s family. I know bad shit happens. I know now that it can happen to me and people I love. I know there are no guarantees in life-ever and all of our futures are completely uncertain. I’m not going to obsess over that. Not anymore, Whether I obsess or not, shit may or may not happen. What I am going to focus on is the here and now. Today, I am strong. I have been strong. I’ve had moments where I didn’t feel strong or didn’t want to be strong. I still do. But the overriding thoughts in my head lately are of strength, courage, tenacity, and fortitude (aren’t those awesome words?!).
So, I’ve been focusing on the here and now and what I want and what I don’t want. I’ve thought about the “questionables” (yes–they are always there) in my life and wondered why I keep them around if they are “questionables”. Buh-bye questionables. I think for a long time, I thought I had to settle. Settle into this role of “poor widow with four kids”–what quality person would want to be with a 28-year old 😉 widow with 4 young children? But I’ve realized-ONLY a quality person would show up for this. I do not have to settle for anything. I’m fucking strong and fun and independent and sometimes I even think smart thoughts. (I know my Boston/Stuart Smalley dude has been trying to drill this into my head since last summer–but it took awhile for me to actually believe it.) Like lately with my brilliant insight–If I could make it through the past 642 days, I could make it through pretty much anything.
For awhile, I felt like only when I accomplished something major–climbing rocks, running up mountains, lifting more weights than I ever could before, buying a house, helping my dad put in wood floors(!), mowing my own lawn, hiking up a mountain in the pitch dark to see the sunrise….that I was strong. But I’ve realized–the strength has been there every single day–even when I wasn’t accomplishing those things–I was still really accomplishing something. I was surviving. It took a lot of strength to wear that Kristen Suit. It was very heavy and exhausting and still is sometimes. But lately, it is lighter and I’m starting to realize it’s not so much a suit anymore because it’s not temporary. I can’t take it off because it is who I’ve become. I’ve changed–I really am the Kristen Suit.
I finally opened Jake’s ashes. Man-that box was heavy and it took forever to figure out how to even open it. I didn’t know how I’d feel. I just knew I wanted to be alone. I have never actually seen anybody’s ashes before. I didn’t know what to expect. But I sat outside and put my hands in the bag and felt the ashes and wondered, “How is this Jake? How did this used to be the person I love? How could this tall, super strong, athletic guy be reduced to this? In this small box?” I still don’t believe it. When my emotional brain conflicts with my logical brain–my emotional brain wins almost every time. I can think about it and think about it–but I doubt it will ever make sense to me. So I just try to accept.
Same with Jake and Wednesday August 27, 2014. I’ve obsessed over the events of that day and the days prior for 632 days. (Yes I said 32–10 days less). The “what ifs” and “had I only”s…these questions are just my brain’s way of trying to force some sense into a senseless act. There will never be any sense to this-no matter how often I fruitlessly replay and re-ask those questions. I am working on being in the moment. I’m not guaranteed tomorrow. I can’t change the past. I need to accept that and just focus on–now. As I’ve said many, many times, grief is not a linear process. It is not a series of steps and then yay(!) graduation. I fully realize that I could fall back down the spiral at any time. But I’m not falling at this moment.
So now, in this moment–my focus is on my strength. I can do what I can do and that’s about all. But I’m going to stand up tall and embody that strength because it is me–it is who I am. I am strong. I’m doing this. I refuse to be stuck in hell. Winston Churchill was a brilliant man. I keep on going. (I wish there was a brain muscle emoji to insert here…)