Hard Week Survived
I wanted to wait until I was a bit less emotional to document that I survived my week. Yesterday was my wedding anniversary, and it hit me pretty hard from Sunday to yesterday off and on. I made it through yet another trial of this journey. I think a great deal of the time I kept thinking "Now this is just fucked up" or "no this just is not right". I have come to the conclusion that I would not wish that pain on my worst enemy (if I had one). Here I want to talk about some of the feelings for future reflection and writing and to show myself this fire was walked through.
I knew that this might be tough as it falls only a couple of months after I left, but Sunday crept up on me. I was married on a Sunday and the smell in the air and the blue in the sky was exactly the same. I thought I was pretty safe, but I woke to dreams of that day. The rest was downhill and difficult until yesterday was over. There are few days in your life where you remember the whole day from start to finish, and this was one of them except the memory is a reminder of what is no longer. I have a damn good memory and there were moments I could remember the weight of the dress and the feel of the satin underneath my fingertips. The smell and color of my flowers and the reflection of the setting sun in the floor to ceiling windows. The flickering glow of floating candles in glass bowls and the food set up so prettily with honeydew melons carved into swans. That merely covers a small bit of the memory of my five senses, but does not begin to recount the emotional memory of this day. I was more sure than anything in my life up to that point that the man at the end of the first row was the person I would be with for the rest of my life. Happy is not the right word to describe how I felt, but sublime and magical might start. I had a moment with my dad before I went down the isle that was rare in our relationship but truly and completely loving.
The stark contrast between that day and yesterday made me walk slightly sideways the entire day reaching for firm objects to hold onto so I wouldn't fall down. It was just another day at work with kids laughing and playing everywhere, and a happy work place where I love to wake up and go to every morning, but surreal. The kids are really good at distracting you from your troubles, but you also have the responsibility of not falling to pieces around them either. I did not want to upset them with a sadness they do not understand or reminds them of their parents in hard times. I kept my face in a smile, but the effort was exhausting. My throat and muscles hurt from the work of keeping my emotions in check. After work I went to a play with good friends, and I firmly believe it helps to be with someone who cares for you in times like yesterday. I still walked sideways but I wasn't alone.
Then the day was over and the memories slowly stopped plaguing me. I honored the day and grieved what I have lost as well as recognized my promising tomorrow. I mourned shattered hopes and love as I pray for faith to find new ones. I am exhausted from it all and now I can get back to the everyday ups and downs in this process that is healing. All this might be depressing for me to recount and later re-read in happier times, but I need to remember I survived the ugly, gritty, messy pain of yesterday just as I enjoyed its beautiful opposite on the day I was married.
I knew that this might be tough as it falls only a couple of months after I left, but Sunday crept up on me. I was married on a Sunday and the smell in the air and the blue in the sky was exactly the same. I thought I was pretty safe, but I woke to dreams of that day. The rest was downhill and difficult until yesterday was over. There are few days in your life where you remember the whole day from start to finish, and this was one of them except the memory is a reminder of what is no longer. I have a damn good memory and there were moments I could remember the weight of the dress and the feel of the satin underneath my fingertips. The smell and color of my flowers and the reflection of the setting sun in the floor to ceiling windows. The flickering glow of floating candles in glass bowls and the food set up so prettily with honeydew melons carved into swans. That merely covers a small bit of the memory of my five senses, but does not begin to recount the emotional memory of this day. I was more sure than anything in my life up to that point that the man at the end of the first row was the person I would be with for the rest of my life. Happy is not the right word to describe how I felt, but sublime and magical might start. I had a moment with my dad before I went down the isle that was rare in our relationship but truly and completely loving.
The stark contrast between that day and yesterday made me walk slightly sideways the entire day reaching for firm objects to hold onto so I wouldn't fall down. It was just another day at work with kids laughing and playing everywhere, and a happy work place where I love to wake up and go to every morning, but surreal. The kids are really good at distracting you from your troubles, but you also have the responsibility of not falling to pieces around them either. I did not want to upset them with a sadness they do not understand or reminds them of their parents in hard times. I kept my face in a smile, but the effort was exhausting. My throat and muscles hurt from the work of keeping my emotions in check. After work I went to a play with good friends, and I firmly believe it helps to be with someone who cares for you in times like yesterday. I still walked sideways but I wasn't alone.
Then the day was over and the memories slowly stopped plaguing me. I honored the day and grieved what I have lost as well as recognized my promising tomorrow. I mourned shattered hopes and love as I pray for faith to find new ones. I am exhausted from it all and now I can get back to the everyday ups and downs in this process that is healing. All this might be depressing for me to recount and later re-read in happier times, but I need to remember I survived the ugly, gritty, messy pain of yesterday just as I enjoyed its beautiful opposite on the day I was married.