Yesterday I drove home from a spontaneous trip to Montana. I needed to be with my family at our annual reunion. Being there was surprisingly healing and definitely what Lucy would have wanted. I both missed her and felt her presence, especially by the river and in her corner of the couch. My good girl. I left while I still felt OK, before I hit the skids. I'm learning to spot my limits on the horizon.
Sadness comes and goes in brief yet powerful waves. Smiles followed by anguish buying dog food at Petco and writing beans on my shopping list. (Beans is one of Lucy's nicknames.) All these firsts, which I'm trying to not make such a big deal of, because I can slip into tormenting myself. But sometimes they rear up on their own. Notice me, they demand. Feel me.
Mostly I'm hanging in there. Taking care of myself. Taking care of Silas. Somewhat taking care of business. Not pushing it. I've given myself permission to let my feelings be, without judgement. Even letting moments of inner peace and joy have their time onstage guilt-free.
On a positive note: Silas is now with me permanently. No more shared custody. I have full custody of Silas, and God has full custody of Lucy and Elliott. (Until I join them in the spirit world.) It's a new chapter in my life, one I would gladly exchange for one that still had Lucy written all over it. Never before have I sensed the transience of everything. It's just for now, I tell myself. This separation. This missing-ness. This everything I can and cannot name.
So. Today. A blazing hot Sunday afternoon. Silas has a Montana hangover and is flat on his couch with a fan blowing on him. My evening includes banana pudding, Mad Men and an abundance of gratitude.
Day by day, whether we like it or not, we're forging a new normal, because that's how life goes on. With the custody decision, something has shifted and settled. It's Silas and me. Relieved and grateful. Tentatively excited to gently explore and discover what's next.