There is comfort in staying home. I ran a few errands but was happy to return to the cocoon. I’ve practice drawing, did some water color painting, finished a sewing project for Healing Hands, put together the first big block of a crocheted baby blanket, and watched too much TV.
I’m reminded of those weeks and months after Jennifer died. I wanted to stay home – even in the summer. It felt safe; my heart was protected.
Then I learned how to guard my heart, to keep it closed.
Sometimes I would forget and share my story before I was ready. That’s when I opened my heart, became vulnerable. My emotions rolled up into my throat and the cement block pressed on my chest. Those times were exhausting.
But I slowly learned to put my pain in a box that I opened when I was ready to share. The raw edge of my grief eventually softened, and I could talk about Jennifer’s story without that raw pain.
Today I thank God for
- by His grace I’m able to be open and not swamped in grief.
- our daughter’s life and the story we can share with others.