How to survive the unimaginable? Let the feelings come, respect whatever they are, no matter how negative or dark, but don't dwell in them. What's a good metaphor? Surf the waves, feel them lift you up and pull you down, if you fall underwater, don't worry, you know how to swim. Hold your breath, dive down deep, but then reemerge, get back on the board and surf again.I know there is something terrible happening in my life. I see it and I know how easily it could suck me and my family down into a dark place. I make a daily choice to not allow us to be drowned. David and I set the example. We don't ignore Talia, we don't make light of her condition (other than some off color jokes every now and then) but we also don't make her illness the sole focus of our lives or allow our sadness to affect our other children's view of the world. I admit to feeling overcome with emotion sometimes just as other times I try to notice my sadness without allowing it to touch my core.My goal every day is to try and live this balance where I respect my situation without allowing it to become my sole focus, and some days are more successful than others. Quiet days are the hardest. When Nathan and Audrey are at school and I don't have a plan for Talia and I the quiet can almost cause me to crack. It's in the quiet I reflect on the fact that there is no place for Talia and I at the moment. She's not a cute newborn, she's not a curious toddler, she's not a slowly developing special needs child. She's very specific. She's a child with no future, and there's not really a playgroup for that (nor do I know if I would attend one if there were). It's in the quiet time I think about the other families trying to survive the loss of their child. The unfairness of the world. The ways that every person struggles to create a safe, happy space for their family in the face of injustice, bad luck and tragedy. It's in the quiet I question where MY life is going, when I get to live my life for myself and not for others.Thankfully, the quiet moments pass, the older kids return and the chaos of family life resumes. I take a breath, appreciate the noise and life that fills the house, and then- just as quickly- miss the quiet again!
Surf Your Emotions