Surrendering to the journey of life

"The Bow"
© 2018 Toni Becker,
Artfully Healing/Whimsical Jewels

I awoke today with an overwhelming sadness.  The sadness that time is racing by, and I can't stop it.  The sands of the hour glass are speeding up and visually I see the sands falling through my fingers.  I try to contain it by clasping my hands tightly shut, but it's not working.  So here I sit, knowing I need to honor these feelings despite my mind telling me I have a zillion things to do.  My heart reminds me that I am a sensitive and emotional human with empathy and compassion for myself and others, while my head tells me to numb it and stay active with my life and my "to do list".  My ego screams... "No one has time for this, keep doing and it will go away."  Here's the truth.  It's easier and more comfortable to numb myself with activities and things I need to take care of instead of honoring what I feel because these feelings are intense.  The real work lies in the allowing and the honoring.  So today I'm honoring.

I want to say no to the outside world, pull the covers over my head and lie in bed allowing myself to be what I need to be.... a big sobbing mess.  I'm not one to run from what I'm feeling although there are days I know I don't have time for it, and I push through knowing it will be there tomorrow.  Believe me, it doesn't go away.  I acknowledge this isn't the healthiest approach, but sometimes it's what I need to do, to get things done, knowing I can't handle the tasks I need to care for and the intensity of my emotions.  Today I awoke knowing I needed to take care of my emotional health and honor the space I'm in and sit with the intensity.  So here it goes...  I'm mad that I don't have the means to stay in bed today if I want to.  I'm mad that I can't be with my mom every second of the day.  I'm mad that life has been so challenging and there appears to be no end in sight to these challenges.  I'm mad that time is running out.  I'm mad that I'm losing the beginning of me.  I'm mad that time and future memories are being stolen from me.  I'm mad that people focus on such nonsense.  I'm mad that I am forced to deal with these people and their nonsense.  I'm mad that the world is so divided and people are killing each other.  Then there's the sadness.  I'm sad that I'm watching someone I love so deeply weaken each day.  I'm sad and mad that I can't do anything to make it stop.  I'm sad that my life will go on without a huge part of me.  I'm sad for my children and what they're feeling.  I'm sad that there's a good possibility my mom won't be here to see them graduate, go to college, get married, have the joy of seeing them start a family... the list is long.  I'm sad that I can't do more for her.  I'm sad that there will come a day that I won't be able to feel her hugs, stroke her soft hair, place my hand on her face or see her across the dinner table.  My stomach is sick.  My head is throbbing.  My face is a big salty mess from the continual stream of tears. 

My mom on her birthday 10/11/15

Then there's the duality of all the emotions above.  There's gratitude and joy.  It's a little hard to write about it when my sadness is being felt with such intensity today, but these feelings are still there.  It's these feelings that calm my stomach and make the throbbing in my head feel less intense.  They serve as a beautiful reminder of what I have and what I've been given.  I have the unconditional love of a woman who is such a beautiful example of love and motherhood.  And when the clock stops, I'll still have this, just in a different form.  Despite feeling like time is running out, I'm reminded that I have been given time and the ability to care of the woman who gave me life.  I'm reminded that I have the blessing of having her in my home, and although it's hard to see her in a weakened state, I'm grateful for the ability to care for her, to love her in this state and to serve her in this way.  I'm grateful that time has already been extended and I hope for more time, but as hard as it is to acknowledge this... I accept and honor that it may not happen.


For the last year I have been engaging with anticipatory grief or maybe it's been engaging with me.  The truth is, it really doesn't matter how much you engage with anticipatory grief, it doesn't prepare you for a loss of this magnitude.  The waves of grief I will feel when it's all said and done will be greater than what I am going through right now.  For today though, I feel a little better honoring this space and giving my grief the acknowledgement it needed.

My mom and I, 12/25/16