In college, my roommate pointed out that I broke my day down into segments. When she asked "How was your day?", a 'normal' person would say "good" or "bad". Not me. I'd say "well, my morning kinda sucked, but lunch was fun, then the afternoon I was super sad, but I went to Franklin Street and ran into Eric Farmer, and that made is wonderful!" Yep. Not normal. But it's kinda always been how I've seen things... in segments.
I'm feeling now like that was part of God's plan for getting me through this season in life. While I'm generally a "glass half full" kind of girl, today I've been living in the "half empty" part. I'm well aware that His mercy and grace is still abundant in my life. But to be completely candid, this has been a hard day.
It's hard for me to grasp that Mary's only been gone one month... but yet this is the first of a lifetime of months without her.
It's hard for me to hear my Dad cry on the phone.
It's hard for me to clean my house when all I want to do is sit and smell one of the sweaters I brought home from her closet.
It's hard for me to want to talk about anything but... well... her.
This is not a cry for help. This is not a cry for sympathy. This is not a cry for anything other than... a cry. While my heart hurts, I'm still surrounded with joy, love, and friendship. My Birthday Bubble continues this week. My Christmas Bubble started this past week and I'm super excited about all the events that are upcoming. Seeing family and friends... having parties... wrapping presents? Those are all segments I look forward to and long for. Yet my heart hurts for my Dad, my family, for me.
On a good note, my sweet E has returned. After a week of pure hell for her (and me), she's back. Today was near perfect. We started our day with the discovery of Fisbee- our Elf on a Shelf- which made her laugh hysterically before school. He was sitting on top of our kitchen cabinets in a feed box from my grandparent's barn along with another one of our good buddies.
Her laughter is infectious.
E wanted to have a "sleep over" tonight on the floor in front of the fireplace. From the looks of my sleepy eyes, you'll not be surprised that I fell asleep just after we laid down. She then proceeded to cover me up with every blanket she could find and pretend to give me oxygen so that I could have a baby (Cinderella doll.) (We just looked at all of her hospital pictures- complete with the boob picture- and she's all about having a baby.)
I put her to bed, came back downstairs, and she came down just a second later to tell me I'd forgotten to put lotion on her. (She recently re-discovered the Johnson & Johnson Calming Baby Lotion and is a wee bit obsessed with it.) She told me that I really needed to put lotion on her so she could be calm. Anything for you, Baby Girl... especially when you have accessorized your pajamas.
Even during the last week when she was a pain, she had some precious moments. One day she told me she wished she lived in Asheville so that she would have known Nanny as long as I'd had a chance to. Me too, Baby Girl, me too.
I don't imagine the days will get easier for a while. Things like Elizabeth Edward's death set me back in ways I can't even describe. And I don't expect them to get easier. Shoot, I don't even know that I want them to completely... the hurt in my heart causes me to remember Mary's laugh and to continue to fall into the arms of Jesus. So in moments like this, I will cry when I cry and laugh when I laugh. I will continue to break my days and weeks up into segments. In the good, God is there. In the bad, He's there with even fiercer love.
And in moments like these when I don't know what emotion is next, this I know:
It is well with my soul.