Writing and not posting here.  At that point that I get to every so often of complete overwhelm.  Behind on so many tasks that those not necessary for survival are falling away -- do I really need a clean bathroom, a dusting before decorating, cooking?  Good?  I am not sure.  The day to day is stressful right now and I need to breathe into each moment.  Pain does not go away by pushing it aside, but there is a fine line to walk between the push and the wallow.

Holiday stress weighs heavily.  I lug the baggage of grief like an oversized carry on bag.  It slows me down.  Shopping for gifts which I began today and my list is very short, becomes almost too much of a challenge.  I started with Julia and did a small bit for Cheshire.  I can distinctly remember a different me who reveled in it all.  I know that life has changed and I might never get back to the energy of those times,  I brought some decorations upstairs from the basement yesterday and we will do a bit in the house today but truth be told, if I was alone, I would have nothing.  Maybe a candle.  I love the lights, the bright baubles on shelves and walls, but all of it is so laden with the past, with memories of what I don’t have.  

What I don’t have.  Living in the past with needs and regrets.  Just wanting to be there, not here.  On waking this morning, much too early and not going back to sleep, my mind jetted back to waking so many mornings when David was alive and turning to snuggle together.  So many times, sleep came again, and when it didn’t, there was comfort.  Damned physical comfort.  The delight of the beloved’s arms.  

Really struggling with lighting the Chanukah candles.  I can do it with Julia -- again, I would not do this alone.  I can say the prayer and tell some story -- Julia’s favorite book of all time is about Chanukah although we read it at anytime during the year.  And it just hurts.  Maybe because we have no family or community to share it with.  Maybe there are no new memories being created.  There is only what I remember.  I could reach out to some friends who would probably be very willing to share some Chanukah celebrating but I don’t.  What we did was just for us and it is hard to break that habit.  And the busy-ness of the season makes it seem like an imposition to demand to share someone else’s family time.  

Just breathe.  And again.  Breathe.

Sad right now.  It all still sucks.  Met another widow of two years at a Waisman grandparents’ support group (A work assignment for me.).  We traded a small amount of information and hugged and almost simultaneously we said, “It sucks!”  Ah, such eloquence.  Wanting to plan my way out of it and/or at least not wallow, stuck in the mire of pain.  Realizing that this is still a tunnel that I am slowly making my way through.  

I thought about how to cultivate joy last night.  I had no such thoughts last year.  I tried to revive my gratitude practice last week and found it unbearable, but I will write something, maybe just a complaint, maybe one day of gratitude.  I will grow more patience.  True, it is only because I have to.  I have been dragged kicking and screaming into healing.  Because, because . . . well, there is nothing else to do.  I am alive and I’ve promised myself to live full out.  I see now that I can’t will myself to heal and become whole again, but I cannot heal without a very strong will.  Finally, here is an excellent use for my eternal stubbornness!  There is a blessing to count.

Julia had a rather bumpy day yesterday.  Lots of not listening and loud no’s.  Ending with peeling the sole of her foot after she was in bed.  The last of the bug sores that are on her wrist are healing -- I’ve been medicating and wrapping recently redoubling my efforts to heel everything!  From time to time she has peeled the heel of one foot starting with that dry skin that all of us have this time of year but ending with a fiery red heel that must hurt to walk on.  She wears socks and gloves to bed every night and so she has to take both off to do this.  We talk over and over again about how she can call me to help her.  Actually, I was next door to her in my bedroom while she was doing this.    I struggle with this.  Really not sure why listening was such a challenge yesterday.

I hear the girl waking up.  Tears begone!  Breakfast, therapy, decorations!  I think I need a lot of candles today.