My Sad Day

Today, I gave myself permission to be sad. Or not…whatever I needed. Five years in and I finally felt prepared for this day.

The saddest day of my life. I can’t imagine how I could have a sadder day…

But, five years after losing Andrea, I feel a confidence in the process. A peace in how to navigate.

I’m more aware of where I may be, or not, and seem to have a handle on what I might need. To be honest with you, I’ve not had that before. The last 4 years were survival….the waiting game. And, I honestly had no idea what I needed! Or wanted. And it changed. By the minute.

Do I go to work and be distracted, and fall apart?

Or do I stay home and trust myself to my own inner dialogue…

After five years, I chose this day to allow myself to be sad. Rob asked multiple times if I needed him to stay home with me.

I didn’t even want to pretend with him. No mask for anyone.

Not even myself.

I wanted a day of complete freedom to only think of my own emotions. We don’t have this gift very often. It feels very selfish. As a people pleaser, it’s not very often I am not gauging someone else’s emotions. And it’s too much for me to carry on this day. So I’m not. And I am so grateful I have received not one minuscule iota of pressure…from anyone…to be anything else today.

I actually felt good coming into this day. I was holding it together well. But, it didn’t take much to derail me. It took all my energy to do well. One extra stressor, and I would lose it. Fortunately, I was in a place where I had tools, I had people and I had places to regroup. You wouldn’t believe the stressors that have hit Rob and I this week.

I guess we must be a threat to someone, because he’s really trying to dismantle…I’m not even sure what. But, I definitely feel the attack.

Not today Satan.

Especially not today….

And yet, I’m giving myself permission to be sad.

And that’s ok. That’s actually healthy. I can wallow in the tears if I want- now that I trust myself to not spiral in an unhealthy way.

I won’t.

I can climb back into bed.

Which I did. I just wasn’t ready to start the day. I was so, so tired. I made a space to be able to do that.

And I did.

And then I sat and let the tears fall. Not a torrent today, just a few.

And then the text began to come in. More tears fell. Because, as you thought of me, Andrea was remembered.

She is so missed in my heart. As in yours. I don’t need a day to remember her, I remember her every…single…day..

I remember her when I see the moon. My daisy wind chime. My daisy bracelet. When I hear the song “Hallelujah”. So many moments in every single day. She is remembered constantly.

But I do need a day to just be sad.

A day I don’t have to reassure others with a weak smile. A day I give myself permission to feel all the feels.

And miss my daughter.

Now that I’ve climbed back into bed, processed my emotions through this letter and shed some tears, I think I’ll go watch a Hallmark movie…or three. And then I’ll get the Christmas Village out, and the Pandi Tree. And we begin year 6 without you sweet one. So much life has grown up surrounding my grief. The grief feels just as big, but I have quite a cushion built around it now.

Thank you for being that cushion….

I’ll see you all tomorrow with a genuine smile, and a true answer to “how are you?”

I’m doing ok. Thanks for checking in.