Saturday, July 6, 2013

Not waving but drowning

I heard this, or maybe I read this somewhere and it struck my heart. I think if I could choose 4 words to describe where I'm at right now, this journey I'm on, it would be those. 

Not waving but drowning. 

I saw some news features and articles about this a few months ago. They wanted to get awareness out that drowning doesn't always look like drowning. It can look like playing or splashing around.

That's pretty accurate with grief and healing too. She's laughing, she must be ok.  She's out of the house, she must be over it. She's posting pictures of happy times, she must have moved on 

Not waving, but drowning. 

She's laughing, but goes to the bathroom to cry. She's out of the house, but its the first time in over a week.  She's posting pictures of happy times, she would never post pictures of the bad.  

Not waving, but drowning. 

I've been upset because I don't have any signs that remind me of the boys. I don't have a specific thing that when I see "it" I know they are ok.  That bothers me. Especially last night. So I prayed thru my tears that I would know, without a doubt, that my boys were ok. I wanted proof. Not a butterfly. Not something that could mean 1000 different things, I wanted my boys, speaking to me. Saying "Hi, Mom. We're here, Tucker and Fletcher!"

Then I got this. At midnight. Thru a friend  I've never met but who is standing in the same grief stricken spot as I am, missing her son, she sent me this without possibly knowing what I needed most. 

She sent me a message from my boys. More clear than any message I've gotten or could hope to receive. 

Not waving but drowning.  Not entirely true. My head is above water even if my legs are kicking like crazy to keep me afloat. I'm empty but only some. I'm broken but not completely. I'm healing, a little at a time. 

Not drowning, just waiting.  For healing, for answers and for strength. 

Not drowning. Just grieving. Not drowning. Just sad. Not drowning. Not drowning.