It's coming...

Many people have encouraged me to publish the blog or write a book about my grief journey over the past year. It's a deeply personal decision but one I feel compelled to do, if for no other reason than to have a compilation for my girls to read one day.

Soooo....

I have decided to move forward with the blog-to-book project. It will be self-published so it's nothing too fancy. I am currently working on formatting and editing the blog into a book format and hope to have it complete by the end of the year. It will be a compilation of all of the blog posts during my first year of grief. I am considering the idea of also adding some of my "never-seen-before" private journal entries to further complete the story of my grief process. People still contact me and tell me that they are referring others to the blog for support so I figured an easier way for people to get the whole story is through a book rather than clicking backwards through a gazillion blog pages.

Just wanted to give all of you who are interested a head's up that the project is underway...plus I figure if I put it out there to the world then I have to follow through and get it done. No more procrastinating!

Catch...

Most days are good. Most days are filled with joy and laughter with the girls. Andie still crosses my mind every single day, and it is usually with fondness that I remember him. I still talk to him every night before I go to sleep. But there are still moments that cause my breath to catch and hot tears to well up in my eyes.

Like when the girls brought home artwork from school when they were learning about families. Little balloons on construction paper. Each balloon labeled, "Mommy", "Daddy", "Addison", and "Allison". I see the word "Daddy" and debate in my head whether is is more appropriate for them to have given him a place in their artwork or not...I decide in the end that I'm glad he was included.

Or like the moment in church this week when I had take a few deep breaths to hold back the tears because all of a sudden memories of us sitting in the pew whispering and snickering to each other like children came flooding back...

Or watching the girls play in the bathtub and realizing that he never got a chance to see their beautiful, playful personalities start to emerge...

Or the moment two nights ago when my wedding ring sitting on the bathroom counter caught my eye. I was compelled to put it on again to remind myself what my hand used to look like with it on...it felt so heavy. I didn't remember it being so heavy.

Or even as I sit and type all of this and acknowledge to myself that the pain is still in fact, very much there, and very much real.

These are the kind of moments where just for a second the world stops again.
Where I am thrown back into a kind of surreal existence in which I have to make myself believe again that it all really happened.
These are the kind of moments that cause my breath to catch...

Think less...

I decided to sell Andie's truck since it has been sitting in my driveway for over a year and is rarely used. His cousin came down from Oklahoma to purchase it this week.

Yesterday I was running errands around town when I pulled up to a stop light. At the light perpendicular to me was Andie's cousin. Driving Andie's truck. It caught my eye from a distance and my breath caught...as I got closer and realized it really was his truck the tears immediately began to fall. Seeing his truck out of context like that was almost like seeing a ghost. I was wiping away tears before I even realized I was crying. Before I even had a chance to try and stop them...

It's funny how a deep emotional reaction always happens at least a split second before your rational brain can process it. One of the reasons it's so hard for people to hide their true emotions I suppose...the facial expressions of pain and anger that flash across the face a second before we can compose ourselves is almost always a dead give away.

This makes me think of how whenever I ask the girls to apologize to one another for something, they never actually use any words despite the fact that they can talk. They always choose to give each other a hug and kiss as a way to say they are sorry. They actually feel it rather than just think it and say it. They're still innocent enough to be okay with processing emotions instead of shutting them down like adults do.

Maybe they're on to something there.
Maybe the emotional center of the brain that short circuits the rational mind is programmed that way for a reason.
Maybe we all need to allow ourselves to feel more...and think less.