Digging Deep

Life has a way of getting in the way.

I started my music post probably two or three days ago. It’s not finished. Last night I was torn between writing and reading. I opted to escape my overwhelming week by drowning in someone else’s words, rather than my own.

It’s the last week of the month, meaning work is a clusterfuck. Add to that an insurance inspection of the property and a rare visit from my boss – in the same day. Neither was stressful. As long as one does their job they should never worry or stress about impromptu visits from higher ups, or scheduled ones for that matter. It was just mentally exhausting is all. Chase has been on his best behavior – please read that line again and add an eye roll – and I’m trying to undo the damage that Thanksgiving and a four day weekend caused my physical well being. 

I stood in the doorway of my bedroom last night, waiting for Chase to exit the bathroom so I could get him in bed. On the hallway wall I have photos of my parents and brother, and as my eyes fell on a picture of my dad, smiling a cheesy smile and holding up a fish shaped necktie, tears welled. What I wouldn’t give to be able to vent to him again. Chase opened the bathroom door and I blinked my tears away. I was immediately distracted from my grief by his superhero antics, and once he was settled I ran out the backdoor for a cigarette. I stood staring at the night sky, contemplating writing, but knew I was too stressed and sad to write anything but a depressing piece. So I opted for a good yoga session, a long shower, and some time in a book. 

I’m better today. I knocked the shit out of my work to-do list, and crossing things off of a list heightens my mood drastically. 

Grief is a funny thing. It sneaks up when you think you’ve finally got a handle on it and knocks the wind out of you. And grief is rude and uncaring, striking when you’re  weak. I always mourn my parents, every day. Dad being the most recent and the parent I was closest to, I mourn him a little more, as horrible as that may sound. I’ll never accept their passing, but I acknowledge it if that makes sense. I mostly smile at the memories and very rarely do I cry over the loss anymore. But seeing his smiling face looking at me when I felt so defeated and so tired hit a nerve. Grief strikes the hardest at these times, and makes you realize that you can never truly have a handle on an emotion so strong. 

I made it through another day without Dad to guide me. I reached for my pillars, my music and yoga and words, and I got through it. On my final day of Gratefuls, I am grateful for the strength he instilled in me. 

“Grief is like the ocean; it comes in waves, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.” – Vickie Harrison 

Published by: A. Elizardo

Single mother to two amazing boys, sister to an inspiration, and the daughter of two opinionated, sarcastic, fun loving individuals that are no longer physically with us. Music, writing, reading, my family - living and gone - are what keep me going as I put on my rose colored glasses and navigate us through this crazy world.

Categories every day life, Grateful, Loss, UncategorizedLeave a comment

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