You may not know it from my earlier post today, but I am feeling pretty sad these days. Sad, downcast, glum, forlorn, melancholy, desolate, crestfallen, gloomy, blue…whichever word you want to use, I am feeling pretty down.
I don’t think there’s anything necessarily bad about being sad. Sadness is a part of life. It is a part of my son’s death. He is not sad; I am not sad for him at all, but the sadness is still consuming at times. I am sad for myself…and for my hubs. We miss Owen so much.
Over the past year, I have learned to embrace the sadness. I go to a place where I can peacefully and quietly sit in the sadness. I wrap my grief around me like a blanket and I wallow. It is a sadness I can’t ignore. I don’t think I should ignore it.
I believe that this is a huge part of the grief process…or is it a journey? An ever-changing landscape…I pass landmarks and places that look familiar but I am ever moving forward, albeit slowly sometimes, but I am moving, walking onward in my grief. I move forward because I do have somewhere to go. I am going home.
My heart is heavy; yet it still beats.