“The heart is the only broken instrument that works.” -T.E. Kalem-
I just couldn’t put my finger on it. For months now, I have been trying to figure out my life, trying to come to some conclusions as to where I go from here. I had it all figured out, or so I thought.
I came back from a summer break with firm thoughts of where I was going to go. I had a plan. I had written the July 4th blog, marking the one year mark without Stephen. And then I moved towards this life that I had envisioned.
People emailed and called, wondering why I had stopped. I simply said it did not feel right, to keep writing. It seemed like the end of the blog for me. What I did not tell them is, as much as I wanted to make the feeling go away, it did not feel right to NOT be writing in the blog either.
So, I’ve slogged ahead. I’ve planned out and written some for my next book. I’ve started speaking to people, in the hopes of sharing some light in their own darkness. I’ve refocused on my life and my wonderful family. I have recommitted to a life of healthy living, and have religiously taken 10,000 steps a day or more since my birthday. I have cleaned parts of my house that have been neglected since early 2009, and I have decluttered my closets, sending bags of clothes to the Goodwill. I have measured my girth and counted my calories and graphed my progress towards goal. I have rewritten my values and goals, and made some new ones. I have picked happy paint colors and have started to revitalize the walls of my house.
Somehow, I thought I would be able to jump back into the daily grind ( and we call it that for a reason), and all would be okay. I did the hard work for an entire year, and now, with my lessons in my pocket, I could resume to my new normal. Always thinking about him, but living a happy life.
But slowly, the lesson started to illuminate in my life. I noticed little things at first. Emails from people that I could simply not find the words to respond to, letters that I could not read. Appointments I decided to push forward just a few more days. Words I decided to write tomorrow or the next day or the next. To be honest, I’ve had this blog on my to do list for three weeks now, and each morning, I push it forward a few more days.
I’ve been smiling on the outside and beating myself up on the inside for months now. Because in spite of all the things I’ve done in the past year, something doesn’t feel just right. And even though my current list of tasks is admirable and things that should make me feel good about where I am, there is something that quietly sits below the surface, gnawing at me.
I’m still broken.
Not only am I still broken, but in certain ways, I know I will show signs of this fracture of my very being for the rest of my days. I keep trying to fit myself back into this life I think I should somehow be healed enough to live, only to find that it doesn’t feel the same. I don’t feel the same.
So, in my silence, as the days have passed, I’ve been trying to figure all of this out. For a full year, I embraced the brokenness of my being. I actually opened my heart to it, and tried to learn from it. Accepting it was what actually saved me. I did not fight it. But for some strange reason, I convinced myself that all of that did not apply to this next year without Stephen.
I was wrong.
Hello, my name is Kelly, and I am still broken open from the loss of my son.
And that is okay.
Because making peace with that is what gives me strength. Sharing that is what connects me to others. Learning from that is what makes me wise.
Today I am thankful that I finally wrote this blog, and am moving forward with this broken life of mine, being happy in spite of the eternal sadness that sits in my heart despite the passage of time. Today, I give thanks for my new sense of direction.
Looking forward to reconnecting,