My name is Jo and it has been two weeks since my last crying fit.
That was the thought I had this morning when I woke up and it made me chuckle a little bit.
Like alcohol and drugs, grief can become almost addictive if you are not aware of it’s effects on you. Maybe I should start my own club. Grievers Anonymous?
It’s true, though. It has been two weeks since I’ve had what I like to call a “pooptastic day” where thoughts of Cora overwhelm all others and all I can do is cry myself a river. In the scheme of things, you may think that two weeks without crying over the loss of our daughter is a good thing, but I find myself wondering if that is true. After all, crying is very therapeutic and even though I really get sick of it sometimes, I always feel lighter and less burdened afterward.
I also feel ridiculously guilty that I can’t muster up any tears right now. Some part of me thinks that just the thought of our beautiful baby girl should make me tear up because her loss is so colossal, but I just don’t have the energy left to cry right now. Instead, I’m sick with a persistent head cold that won’t seem to let go of it’s strangle hold on my sinuses. I’ve realized that grief manifests itself in oh-so-many ways – it causes so much stress, which wears down the body and invites germs to settle in for the long haul. Like I’ve said before, though, I’m tough and I will not allow this ever-present, grief-induced stress to push me down.
So, I’ve been plugging along through a hazey head full of phlegm and dulled senses and reactions. It’s a blessing, really. My body seems to instinctively know when it needs a break from grief and, even though I’m sick, I feel almost happy. I am enjoying this feeling and I’m going to ride it until the tears find me again.
I am working on pics today, but I just wanted to take a few moments to post some pics that I took while we were fishing about a month ago up at Pass Lake.
It’s Monday. Enjoy it if you can. I wish you all enough…