One of the first things I read this morning was "Grief is Universal but grieving is personal." My grief for Lucy comes in waves. Mornings are tsunamis. I pray. I snuggle with Silas. I read Facebook and grimace at the predictable plethora of Life is amazing! Everything's perfect! status updates. Fuck that. I go downstairs. I feed Silas. I feed myself. I play with Silas. I open my car's back door, because that's what I did when Lucy was here and I'm not ready to stop yet.
I miss her so much. I'm going to write soon about some of the things I miss about her. It's still really hard. Sometimes I'm OK, sometimes all I can handle is Good Orderly Direction (one acronym for God) one moment at a time.
I do my best to get through the day, doing what I can without pushing myself. Most days someone comes over, distracting Silas and me for a few hours. The companionship is extremely comforting.
Today is only the second Monday since she passed. I hate Mondays right now. I prayed pretty much constantly this morning and had a good cry while packing candle orders and working in my studio.
The mail delivered a sympathy card from someone I don't even know, plus a gift from my friend Carole. I want to write about it and will as soon as I get her permission to share what she wrote in her card. It was so powerful -- a gift not only from Carole, but from Spirit and Lucy. I stood at my altar, lit my Lucy candle, closed my eyes to say a prayer and as I touched Lucy's collar it felt energetically exactly as though I was touching Lucy. I stood there quietly for a while, peaceful inside, basking in the knowledge that I was touching her energy. I've never experienced anything like that before.
Immediately afterwards I said something to Silas about his sister and he trotted over to the dining room drawer where I keep their dental chews aka Dobie crack. Lucy was OBSESSED with dental chews, wanted them 3 times a day. Silas likes them but rarely asks. I really believe Lucy was here and prompted Silas to ask for a treat.
Silas and I had a really nice afternoon. Some work, some play, some laughter. I am so grateful for Silas. I am equally grateful for today's energetic connection to Lucy. I've been praying to be open to experiencing her in new ways, with new senses. I knew I wanted to write about today even though I don't have enough focus to write flowery details. This is mostly for my own memory. Two weeks. A very hard morning transformed into a very special day.
I believe I will never quite know.
Though I play at the edges of knowing,
truly I know
our part is not knowing,
but looking, and touching, and loving.
I love you, Lucy.