Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Merry Christmas, everyone!
We came together as a family, rose above our grief, focused on the things we are grateful for, and embraced as a family unit. We had a wonderful holiday.
Our life is not simple any more, but life is still precious. Celebration was a breath of fresh air. It feels a bit like a milestone for me, as I feel the fog lift from my brain, feel the thought processes once again start to spin and whirl. I celebrate that I recognized when it was time to reach out for support.
I recognized my own battle with anxiety and depression and kissed the thought of eternal peace once or twice these past couple of months. When I awoke from this dream- surreal as it is- I recognized I must take every single step with intention, with bold movement, to be healthy, to heal myself and others. To help my son make this life a statement of exceptional existence. To help Bill feel safe. I walked into the infamous room 405 to find my husband, Bill, sobbing. I walked in and embraced him as I would have embraced my child. I felt a stream of tears as he as he said, I thought you forgot me. I thought I would have to be alone today." This shell of a man that houses the father of my son was sobbing in fear and sorrow. He had forgotten I was coming to get him. He thought he was alone. God softened my heart this morning and just maybe some of those walls I have erected to protect myself from caring about my husband, from worry of physical threat, from thinking I could no longer feel due to emotional saturation, hopelessness were forced to melt. In that moment I felt those walls slowly crack and then crumble and for that moment, I forgave. I felt peace. I knew I had done everything I could do to save my marriage, to heal my husband, to protect my family. I let go.