Proceed

Proceed: to continue after a pause or interruption b : to go on in an orderly regulated way
3 a : to begin and carry on an action, process, or movement b : to be in the process of being accomplished

I have avoided writing. The reality of her absence is great and I am trying to work through the chaos that is in my head. Three weeks ago Alyssa went to be with her mother. The beginning of our grief came like a whip lash. The day we went to court to find out our fates was the same day we had to pack her things and say goodbye. To state the emotions felt that day would not do it justice.

Our first two weeks were spent traveling by car up the coast to see family. Our goal was to get away and just "be". It proved to be a reprieve from the grief in a way. Although we missed Aly we were able to talk about her without crumbling. It gave the boys a chance to explain how they felt when they were ready. We returned to our lives. Tim went to work, the boys started back at school, and I have been trying to "be" by myself.

I knew that I'd need to keep myself busy, but the waves of exhaustion and pure sadness are proving to be a worthy adversary for me. The idea of having the house to myself for 6 hours should be a nice change but it just feels wrong. Empty, quiet, wasted space that keeps reminding me that she is gone.

No one told me that I would feel so useless once she left. That I would miss cleaning up her messes, hearing her laugh, walking into her room to find her smiling from her crib. I even miss her high pitched yelling. I cannot bring myself to enter her room. The door has been closed for weeks. How do I go in, how do we proceed? How does someone move on from this when there is someone missing.

I haven't thought about a career since our first son was born. Now, it is staring me in the face and I feel as though the only job I am qualified for is wiping noses and changing diapers. There is no easy way to enter grief and loss. No plan, no possibilities on the horizon. Just the ups and downs of each day, trying to live. I struggle because I want to do something that matters. I don't want to waste time grieving. Just let me do something already.

These are the thoughts in my head. The nagging twinges of doubt and frustration. Every once in a while I stop the noise and listen. God is telling me to be still. To trust Him for He is good. So I am learning that I cannot rush grief along. It stings, pulls you down, and then allows you to reach for the one who can make sense of it. Three weeks is not enough time to get over a loss. There is no time limit for such things. God will change me if I allow it. If I allow it in His time.

I miss her. My heart aches to hold her again. He is my comfort. He is my strength. Three weeks feels like an eternity. I pray for protection and love for her.