One month

I don't know why or how, but I've survived a month without Eli. 

Last night I stared down the impending doom of this day and I wanted to die. It hurts so much and there is precious little escape. 

My dad had been planning a day trip to visit my grandpa and asked if I'd like to go. It sounded like a reasonable diversion at least. My grandpa lives near where I grew up, so it's always wonderful to see him and also tack on a visit to a person or place that is meaningful to me. 

This morning I got up early to leave for our day trip. I forgot my anxiety medicine. I still don't take it all the time, but it's helpful when things get overwhelmingly difficult. Anyway, that was not a helpful move today. 

I missed Eli so much this morning. I asked him to paint me a picture in the sky. And you know what? For our 4 hour trip south the sky was bright blue with clouds that were lines going in different directions, just like when Eli used to say he was drawing snakes. 

We had lunch with my grandpa and then we went over to my old high school to visit my color guard and band instructors. It was good to see them; they are some of the truest people I know. Unbeknownst to me, my dad had gotten my old sabre to my guard instructor to be retaped. It was special and symbolic to have that done. My sabre represents a journey of daring greatly. My friend and instructor also gave me a beautiful necklace honoring both of my boys. 

Since it was band camp, I had the great honor of addressing the current students. I read the Man in the Arena quote (google it) and expounded on it a little. It was a special visit. Most of it was unexpected. I was just going to say hi and steal a few hugs. 

After that we went to see a dear friend who I knew from church when I was a teenager. I didn't know until Eli died that this friend lost a little boy nearly sixty years ago. 

It was almost holy to sit with her and ask about her son. I needed to know about my new life from someone whose loss isn't so new. She showed me a picture of her son and told me her story of losing him. It was quick and her loss was terrible. And then, knowing the bigger parts of her story over the last six decades, it was incredible to know how much joy she has experienced while still bearing her loss. We cried, but I left hopeful. 

I was dreading today, but it has been filled with comfort. Not easy, but grace filled. The day isn't over yet. We'll see what happens. I have plans to take it very easy once we get home. 

I doubted it yesterday in anticipation of today, but still God is big enough and shows up.