Happiness…it’s there somewhere

Life is complex, full of complex emotions. From when we are little children we learn about feelings- that we can be happy, or sad, or angry, or frustrated, or any number of different feelings. What we aren’t taught though, is that we can have different feelings at the same time.

Grief brings those mixed emotions to a new level. Some of the grief related emotions that have been so frequent for me have been sadness, anger, frustration, confusion, fear, worry, and emptiness. But what about happiness? WHERE does it fit in? Because when a child dies it is sad. It is out of order and not the way life is supposed to go. So HOW can I allow myself to be happy when my child’s life was cut short? At first the happiness was tainted with sadness. Every bit of happiness had a bit (or more than a bit) of sadness lurking just beneath the surface. As time has passed there has been more genuine happiness. The sadness is still close by but not quite as overwhelming.

I’m writing about this to process for myself, but also for those of you who are on this journey and maybe not as far along. I’m writing because it really, truly felt early on that there would not be any more genuine happiness. It didn’t seem possible. Sure I could laugh and smile, but it wasn’t real. I felt like I would have a sad cloud hovering over me for the rest of my life.

It feels a bit wrong to feel this happiness again, but I know I can’t be sad forever. I have a life to live and although part of that life is gone, the rest is still there waiting to be figured out and it’s alright for happiness to make it’s way in. This doesn’t mean I’m magically all better, or that my grief is gone. THAT will always be present. It just means I’m getting better at living with it. I think that’s progress and I’ll take every bit of progress I can get.

 

 

 

Roar

This song. The video is kind of…interesting…but I love the message of this song. I love the words. Sometimes in life big things happen. HUGE things happen. Those things change you on a deep level. They change you so much that you feel like a different person. But when you change, you roar. Through those horrible things, somehow, changes happen that make you stronger.

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You see, when your child dies you change. It’s not a maybe you will change, or you might change, but you WILL change. When your child dies a piece of you dies with them. It’s a loss that others can try to understand but the only way to truly know how it feels is to go through it. The pain of it can’t be described or explained. It must be experienced. It’s a pain that you hope to never experience.

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Since Gabe’s death I am different. And one of those pesky little things I can’t control is just how different I am. I’m sure the people I know see difference, and to some the changes may seem bad and some good. To me though they are mostly good.

One of the biggest things that has changed is I care less about what others think of me, because really in the grand scheme of things it just doesn’t matter. My priorities in this new life of mine are my ability to survive and helping those that live under my roof with me survive. My husband and my surviving sons. This ability to not really worry about opinions of others has brought with it a wonderful assertiveness. At first it was kind of uncomfortable, but now it kind of feels good. If there is something I am not comfortable with I say so, or I just don’t do it. If there is something that I know will overextend me I opt to skip it. And if there is a boundary I have set I make sure to enforce it.

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I think those things make me a stronger person, and ultimately will make me a more successful person. I also think those things are probably confusing for some of those around me to see. This change seems kind of drastic. It IS kind of drastic. But the change to MY LIFE was extremely drastic. And sudden. And horrible. And earth shattering. I know that despite what others may think this version of me is here to stay. My child died. I changed. I will be forever different. The old me? She’s gone, and this version of me will ROAR!

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