rollercoaster

I haven’t liked rollercoasters in a long time.  They make me nauseous and give me a terrible headache.  I never knew truly what an emotional rollercoaster felt like, but I’m pretty I don’t like those kind either.  Mostly it makes you feel sick.  Then there are the times when you are at the top and its exhilerating and freeing just for a moment.  Mostly I have been just cruising, trying not to feel too much.  Really enjoying talking to my friends and reading heartfelt cards and seeing the incredible generosity our community has.  For a moment this morning at 5 am when the house was completely quiet I truly thought I was in the valley of the shadow of death.  My heart felt like a stone. A rock.  So heavy and burdensome it was going to fall out of my chest.  I took a couple xanex and went back to sleep.  Thank God.

Today I wanted to just try to relax and let my body know it was not in trauma anymore.  Therapists are a blessing.  They tell you what to do when you just don’t know.  I wanted to put my grief in a box and put it on a shelf.  For a bit.  I know I have the rest of my life to grieve him.

I don’t think I really have started to MISS him yet.  I have grieved, cried, wailed, flung myself on the ground, screamed out in pain.  I have not let myself miss him.  I don’t know if that makes any sense at all.

Then I was just finally getting dressed a few minutes ago and going through a basket of clothes.  In it were some of his shirts, his basketball shorts, his socks.  It was then that I really missed him.  His size large tall shirts that still barely reached his wrists.  The underarmour shirts that he never had enough of because he thought he had to go to the gym EVERY DAY.  I don’t think there is a 15 year old in history that was more interested in exercising. Well really, getting muscles.  Every time I saw him he had a protein shake in his hand.  His things. His person.  I’m going to miss him so much.  So. So. So. So. So. So. much.

Jesus hold me. Hold me tight.

Lucas would want us to listen to this


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