At what point do we progress from merely “riding the ride” to actually enjoying it? I do not know. While embracing my grief, and allowing myself to sink into its ebbs and flows as the pain rises and falls, has helped me “survive” these past few years, there is definitely a moment we begin to notice our life is meant to be so very much more…

Everyone has experienced moments of fight or flight. Some have endured a lifetime of suffering, and would not even know what it is like to “enjoy the ride.” Others have risen above the pain, and, often in spite of it, learned to seize life’s greatest blessings with a heart of profound gratitude for the simple gifts of the everyday.

I once heard someone liken the sun to “the poor man’s blanket.” Oh, how true this is. While some are poor as pertains to material means in this life, there are yet others that are poor as relates to their health, good companionship, or a happy heart. Being grateful for something as simple as the rising sun—especially when we are cold, or cleansing rain when it has been a season of intense drought, can do wonders for helping us ride the ride.

Still, is this really living? To me, it is survival. Looking back, I realize I have basically been surviving these past three and a half years since my sweet Josie’s death. Distraction has been my primary method of coping. Placing my focus on my remaining children, I have muscled my way forward. However, if I were to look inward a bit too closely, I would discover the same damaged and broken heart of yesterday. These wounds have barely begun to heal.

A part of me longs to delve into the same passionate living as before, but I am just not feeling it. I try my darndest, but it simply does not happen for me. The heaviness is uncontrollable and all-consuming at times. I am currently at a loss for words…

One of the chief motivations I initially had for sharing this bitter path, was to hopefully give insight to others that might be experiencing the same. I continue to take note how others have managed to survive intense grief and loss—especially noting the passage of time and certain unstated “markers” in their journeys. There are definite parallels we all share, though our experiences are unique.

I have tried to be honest and not overly affectatious in the thoughts and feelings I endeavor to describe. If anything, they are all very understated. It took me two years just to begin to find the right words to describe my grief, and now, I have once again reached a point of “no words.” Sympathy is NOT something I seek in sharing my journey—connecting with others is!!! At present, I feel extremely disconnected from the vast majority.

I have wrestled for days on what to share, because I do not like to dwell on sadness. It does no good. I long to feel the simple joys of living once more, but that joy is so very elusive. On days like today, it is all I can do to simply stay on the ride. While others are out pursuing their dreams and passions, I will count myself blessed to simply get through another day, as I wistfully dream of that day when I can once again “enjoy the ride.” In my mind’s eye, I can see it, but for now, I will just patiently wait…

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