I'm having a hard time this week.
Not just a hard time because I'm missing Kenton, although that does compound and deepen the level of emotion, but a hard time with everything.
This being.a.grieving.mom.and.a.first.grade.teacher.in.march.after.a.long.cold.days.of.inside.recess.winter.with.children.who.need.so.much.more.than.I.feel.capable.of.giving is hard.
This being.the.mom.of.a.ten-year-old.daughter.who.is.grieving.and.missing.her.brother.with.everything.she.has.while.simultaneously.living.in.the.throes.of.girl.world.and.friend.shifts.and.life is hard.
This being.the.wife.of.a.man.who.is.breaking.because.he.misses.his.boy.and.is.trying.his.darndest.to.help.his.wife.and.daughter.through.their.grief.and.holds.so.much.emotion.in.and.then.finally.cries.over.something.like.going.to.mutual.where.Kenton.should.be is hard.
Everything is just hard.
It used to be that Sundays were good days. On Sundays I ended the day feeling strong, refreshed, and ready to greet the week.
This last Sunday, I ended the day feeling beat up emotionally. Drained. Exhausted. Overwhelmed. And sad.
Not my normal sad. A deep, lingering, crushing sad. The kind of sad where you cry yourself to sleep and then wake up with a start, trying to catch your breath, and realizing that you're already crying kind of sad.
The kind of sad where instead of finding joy in memories, I'm seeing within those memories all of the things I *could* have done better or *should* have done better. Those feelings have attached to me so strongly that I find myself lost in moments of bitterness, anger, and helplessness with a side of guilt.
It almost feels like quicksand. Like when I try to fight, I get sucked deeper into the darkness. I've reached for the life-saving branches that I see and am holding tight - scriptures, prayers, temple attendance - trying to let this wave, with all it's crushing grief, anger, and sadness, wash over me, accepting, understanding, and then, still holding tight to those branches, gradually, slowly, I'll be able to pull myself out.