Thursday, January 23, 2014

The iPod


Yesterday I made a new note to myself: do NOT put the iPod on shuffle. I was driving and that stupid device was determined to put on every song from Brandon's viewing and funeral or songs that ended up on my pod because he bought songs through my iTunes account. I'm always surprised when Jimi Hendrix or some crazy dubstep or Janis Joplin ends up playing through my speakers. Today, it just made me cry. I'm sure the people in the cars near me wondered what the heck was wrong with me, as I kept mopping the tears from my face with my shirt and my hands, an act that was, ultimately, futile, but I sure tried. I got my errands done, made it to work early and went about the business of wearing my public face. It's not always a bad thing, it forces me to push through, but it's not all that easy.

Late in the evening, I stood in front of the washer and folded towels, proud of myself for getting a load of laundry washed *and* folded. Marveling over such a small accomplishment is just how things are now. And, I stood there wondering if I was ever going to have a good day, again, because I truly cannot see it. I have good moments and eight months ago I couldn't have been convinced that I'd ever have one good moment until I died, so there's forward movement that gives me hope, but I cannot see how it's possible to long for all I won't have without Brandon and still have a good day. Those things don't belong together. Every single day is a reminder or 100's of them, because they're everywhere. The iPod is just one of many. I know someone whose very life assures me that one day I'll be able to smile with the memories instead of crying with them, but I don't see that strength in me. She is so strong and triumphant, with so much grace and joy, I am fighting to breathe. I miss him so much and it still hurts to think about him because there are so many things I wish I could change. Today, I will have to settle for the towels and the tears of remembrance...at least I have the memories.

In closing, I want to include a post from Brandon that was about the picture at the beginning of this post. Such a wise soul, my boy, and I wish I had told him more often how proud I was of him. He'd just gotten two gigantic tattoos and he was commenting about them. BrandonHadi Kashef Thank you! That and Faith on the other wrist mean quite a bit to me, I don't think there's much more in life you need besides the two.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Hope and Fight


I had an entirely different blog post planned, but I've been derailed because I didn't want to forget this and the post would be too long if I kept them together. I saved the other one and it'll get it up as soon as I can.

I keep landing on this scripture. God brought it to life for me in a very different way the other night. I had the TV on in the background, as I was trying to sleep, and felt like I was just supposed to turn it off. I rarely do that unless I am sure that I am about to fall right to sleep because I don't want to spend any extra time with my thoughts than I absolutely have to. I began talking to God, something that, sadly, I don't do very often, because I end up crying...sobbing, really. This time was no different, but I kept at it. I was telling Him how I see myself floating alone out in the middle of a very dark ocean and that I can't even gather the energy to want a life preserver. I'm just bobbing around, up and down. Somehow I must be treading water because I'm not drowning, but I so desperately want to let go and just go under, just drift away. And, then, this scripture became so clear to me. Instead of fighting, like a drowning victim who takes everyone under the water with them, all I had to do was just put my head back, as if I had a life jacket on, so I could just rest my head on the part that floats up behind the head. Only I had no life jacket on, but all around me in the water I was surrounded...my head resting in His very arms, those big arms holding up my entire body and I got it...stop fighting! Lean back and I will hold you up. I wish I could describe it better, I should've grabbed my phone, but I had such peace, I didn't want to break it. Trust me, though, it was an awesome vision and an awesome feeling with it...very reassuring.

Maybe someone needed this right now or maybe I just needed to remind myself. Sometimes, it's so very dark, I'm afraid the light won't come back. I'm not trying to be morose or dramatic and I'm not trying to be a victim or get attention, I'm telling you like it is. It's damn dark. When it persists and you can't breathe, but you're trying to breathe and you think you're going to give in to what is calling you, it's damn scary. The more you let go, the easier it gets to let go. Letting the darkness have me was getting a lot easier than fighting it, but I know it's because I was fighting by avoiding and the fact of the matter is that I did not need to fight.

Today, I don't need to fight, I don't have to avoid. I have some resolve and some fresh hope, after being inundated with scriptures on hope and God renewing my spirit. It's not easy being hopeful right now. Pain this bad doesn't bring the good hope because I swear all you can do is hope to die to avoid it, but our spirits were made to want more and I'm sincerely trying. I still have no idea how I will do this life without Brandon, how there will be anything that feels like OK, again, but not chasing the darkness is a vast improvement and I'll take it. I know that light snuffs out the darkness and I know that light is there, even if I cannot physically see it and for now that is enough.