Perspective

Well, you only need the light when it's burning low,
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow,
Only know you love her when you let her go.

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go...
And you let her go.

 

Staring at the bottom of your glass
Hoping one day you'll make a dream last
But dreams come slow, and they go so fast
You see her when you close your eyes
Maybe one day you'll understand why
Everything you touch surely dies

-Let Her Go, Passenger

 

I've been thinking a lot lately about how Jeanne and Mike's death has affected me.  There are the practical things like two more children and more responsibility within our family.  This all comes with added stress and fatigue. I find myself surrounded by cliches of loss/tragedy.  "God has a plan for everything." "God doesn't give you more than you can handle." "In the long run, this will be so good for the boys." "Love conquers all." It goes on and on and on.  I recognize them for what they really are...things other people say to try to make someone in crisis feel better. Sayings that people click "like" on facebook. I find them hollow and meaningless. 

 

I think those of us that have experienced loss and trauma do have a different perspective on life.  Knowing what I know about the frailty of life and the sometimes tenuous nature of family bonds, I think I do appreciate moments of joy in our family more.  I don't think I sweat the small things as much (sorry there's one of those cliches). I think I have more empathy for others and recognize that we all have crap going on in our lives and there is no such things as the grief Olympics.  I have a new definition of what "normal" is and try not to be as judgemental of other people's choices.  My priorities have shifted. These are things that I hope I was already on the road to discovering in my growth as a person, but I think the accident sped that process up considerably. 

 

As with most things, though, there is the flip side.

 

I notice the way the sunlight during the fall is crisper and the cooler air smells different.  My mind goes straight to crushed cars, the pediatric emergency room, sitting in their front yard crying, clinging to K, the coffins, the empty feelings.  Fall used to represent new starts, the gateway to the holidays, family, and soccer games. Not anymore.

 

Holidays are highlights of who is missing.  Navigating the tricky path of figuring out our new family normal without losing our traditions.  It's hard.

 

I always think something bad is going to happen.  I worry more.  I don't live under the false perception that bad things happen to other people.  I don't expect good things to happen and when they do, I find myself waiting for the other shoe to fall.

 

My faith.  I now question everything.  God?  Are you there?  Why can't I depend on you  to help me through this?  Why?  Why?  Why? How is this good for anyone?

 

I am a different person due to the accident.  Some good.   Some hard to handle.  I long for those days of simply appreciating good things like a seven year old's smile, or two cousins cracking each other up over dinner, without the tinge of sadness.  I'm starting to accept that that day may never come.

 

I miss our old life.

 

I miss the old Peg.

 

I miss my sister.