The Dance

This post on Facebook really spoke to me. You always hear the cliche about grief getting better with time. The line about it not being linear is what really struck a chord with me. It's more like a dance that you are unfamiliar with the steps. Two forward, one back, sidestep, more back, one forward and twirl where you are just spinning your wheels, sort of stuck.  On and on it goes, changing tempo and tune as it plays out.

Some days I feel sort of okay. I miss Amanda terribly. I'm beating myself up less and less. I know that it was just a bad choice, and that's not okay but it's okay. I mean I should have and could have been dead from plenty of my poor choices, but that wasn't my journey. I'm having to really learn to trust that God is the tour guide. He knows the route. He created the route, and I have to trust him in all things. It's not easy. I know there will be setbacks, anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, and those will be unbearable. I also know I have to learn to dance whether I like it or not. God isn't finished with me yet. I don't have the luxury of giving up. There is something that He is going to use me for because of this. I have seen and fully believe that God doesn't waste a hurt, and this is a hurt. I can pour into other hurting kids, but I still have a hesitation about me. They're not Amanda, and she's the one I want to love on, but she's not here. I have a hard time really letting people in, but that's always been the case. Now it's just even harder. I put up a barrier. 

But there is another thing I can do. I can reach out to other hurting moms and dads. There is a boy back home who Amanda used to know who was just killed in a drug deal on Saturday. I can identify with some of the feelings/thoughts that she may be having. Even though Amanda's death wasn't publicized like his was, it was drug related, and I know the shame that comes with that, the thoughts and feelings like you as the parent are being judged for the actions of the children. I wrote her a letter. I haven't sent it out yet, but I will. I just want her to hear, whenever she reads it, that she is not alone, though if she's like me, she still feels alone. I do know now from being in the support group online that while our experiences are not the same as far as how our children died, there are commonalities in our grief reactions, and that has offered validation for me. Everyone is going to grieve differently. We each have different relationships with our children, different regrets, different things we can celebrate or grieve that we missed out on, etc. We are walking a parallel path, not the same one. No two are alike, but we can care for one another, support one another. I'm thinking of taking Detective Laxton up on getting some of the other grieving moms together in Durant to offer a means of support for one another so we don't feel so alone as we learn to dance.