Another First

 




Yesterday the 4th of July was celebrated across our great nation. My granddaughter and I went over to Bill & Kathy’s for BBQ and fireworks on the lake. During the hard times in life, you learn who your FRIENDS are. Kathy & Bill fall firmly in that category. I thank God for placing them in our lives. 

As if going through the grieving process wasn’t rough enough to wade through, I have to survive the “firsts.” The firsts are those moments that stop me in my tracks. They are the moments that take my breath away as the waves of grief slam into me. They are the moments that I  do something I  used to do or celebrate with Mark, and I realize, in that moment, I will never experience that with him again. I am thrust into a kaleidoscope of memories. As I am nowhere close to being healed, I am not able to smile at the memories. They serve as a painful reminder of all that I’ve lost. 

However, I know that closing myself off and not experiencing these “first’s” would be far worse for me in the long term. Every first brings a tiny amount of healing, even if it doesn’t seem like it to me. Experiencing each one is brutally painful, but they leave behind a stitch in the fabric of my life. That fabric that was torn apart when Mark died. I have come to the realization that it’s not up to me to repair that piece of fabric. God will. God will carry me through all the “first’s” and He will keep me afloat when the waves of grief try to push me under. I simply need to keep placing one foot in front of the other and LIVE. Not an easy task at times.

Having my granddaughter here is such a blessing. I try to shelter her from the majority of my grief. She sees some of it though, no matter how hard to try to conceal it. Tomorrow we head out on our grand adventure. The trip will be a series of “firsts.” I expect more than a few stitches will be placed in the fabric of my life. 

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