Monday, March 14, 2011

Oh Look, It's a Metaphor

Trudging along, doing okay.  Eating.  Sleeping.  Exercising.

The temperatures were up around 60.  The sun was shining.  I felt reasonably okay.  I might have even used the word "hopeful" without lacing it in sarcasm or qualifying it with "sort of."

And then there was yesterday.  There was no specific "trigger" I can point to.  I was just missing Eliza with the deepest, loneliest ache imaginable.  When David walked in the door from his boys weekend in Kansas City, he was greeted by two hyperactive dogs and a sobbing puddle of a wife.

The backsliding of grief.  It's brutal.  

Just when I thought spring was on the horizon, we woke up today to this:

Yes.  This is the winter of my discontent.  In fact, that doesn't even begin to cover it.


  1. I'm sorry you're struggling and am sending you much love. Remembering Eliza.

  2. For some reason, no idea why really, Sundays were always the worst days.

    Thinking of you.

  3. I seem to be having more tears then usual as well. I didn't know about backsliding. *sigh*

  4. Just found your blog and I am so sorry about your daughter Eliza. The weather never helps as well as triggers that can get you backsliding. I hope tomorrow is better for you.

  5. The backslides have a way of sneaking up on us don't they? I am so sorry that you found yourself here today mamma.. and I am thinking of you and sending love.

  6. Sending love and hoping tomorrow is a better day~

  7. Indeed, the backslides are yuck. I often find myself thinking "will this grief EVER be DONE". And I know it won't, and I'm not sure I'd want it to be, but it's such a heavy burden sometimes isn't it. Wishing you peace, thinking of beautiful Eliza....