Yesterday morning, I was truly in a funk. If you read yesterday’s post, it was obvious. At times I feel ashamed that I can be so angry and pessimistic… those are the times in which I feel like I’m failing miserably at the task of trying to live well for Lucy’s sake, of trying to be a good example to others. I will not apologize for feeling that way, because I know that those feelings are perfectly valid and normal. But I also believe that stewing for too long in the anger and pessimism is toxic. I don’t think I’ve sat with those emotions for such a lengthy duration as I did over the past few days, and I was feeling the impact for sure. I needed to straighten myself out, because I knew I was walking down a very negative path. I don’t want to be the person rendered bitter and jaded forever over my loss. I don’t want to be stuck sitting with my grief in only negative ways. As hard as it is to keep going, I know that I must. I need to keep hope alive in my mind and heart, or I’ll never find true happiness or joy. Yes, that potential happiness and joy will coexist with my grief, but I believe that Chris and I deserve to have some happy again. It is a choice I have to make, hard as it can be to choose sometimes. I know that the bitterness will resurface with my sadness sometimes, and that’s okay, but I have to keep moving and trying. If not for me, for Chris. For Lucy.

I feel better today because I was able to find a quiet place to land. I recognize the importance now of spending time with Lucy and with my grief for her in quiet reflection. The past three weeks have shown me that without it, I find myself in dark places and that hope is a hard thing to grasp in that darkness. I can do this. I’ve been doing this, for 108 days. I can do it better though when I give myself those reflection breaks. So it’s settled in my mind, I need to attempt to spend time daily, even if only for five minutes, in the peacefulness of the nursery with no interruptions. To write, to reflect, to talk to Lucy, to cry, to do what I need to do to keep that connection alive. I did all of those things today with the house to myself, and I feel like I can breathe again. I feel a little peace of mind now. It’s comforting.

My quiet place to land. I lit Lucy’s candle, brought in her urn, and spent some time with her… peace of mind for a few moments.