I remember logging on to the blogging world after losing Alex. I read many many many posts from different women who had suffered losses and were seemingly past the point where they cried every day and were again able to enjoy some parts of their life again. I wondered how they got there and assumed there was some magic fix. There was nothing I wouldn't do to stop feeling what I was feeling. I've always been a woman of action...making things happen when they needed to (or I wanted them to)...and I figured this was no different. If someone somewhere could just tell me what I needed to do to make it go away, I would do it. But there wasn't a magic fix.
And now I'm left with a cliche when people ask how they get through something like this. Time heals all wounds. It leaves you with a scar that you will carry with you forever...but it does scar over...it doesn't stay that huge deep gash the bleeds when you simply breathe.
Maybe it's the realization that others are worse off than me. Maybe it's the passage of all the "firsts" that I was really looking forward to. Maybe it's the purging of household reminders. Maybe it's tucking away old dreams and daring to dream new ones. I'm not sure. But here I am.
I realized this morning that I haven't cried for Alex in at least three days. I don't know how it happened or when...but I'm thankful that I made it here. I know it's not the end of the road...but there is hope replacing despair. I still carry incredible sadness around and it knocks me on my butt every now and then. But I can accept that because there is something resembling happiness on the other days.