Rain, inside and out

These past few days have been full of rain here in my little town. It’s been gray and dreary and even in a good frame of mind that makes it hard to get up and get moving. In my current frame of mind it makes it even harder. But, in spite of this yesterday was a good day overall. Doctors appointment, photo printing, lunch with mom and dad, some good laughs thanks to classic SNL…a bit of frustration in the evening…a walk in the rain to ease away some of the energy of that frustration…so, generally, good.

Today, same weather, different perspective. Still gray and dreary. Post op doctors appointment, which meant we talked a lot about Bennie…but instead of “how’s he doing? is he eating well? growing?”….” it was, “here are some therapy options…we’re so sorry…depression is expected…we’re here for you…” Then, on to a meeting with a dear friend who is helping us get the website for Benton’s Hope, our foundation in honor of Bennie, up and running. Lots of good talk, great ideas, etc. Then, lunch. Where, it seems, my meltdown caught up to me. In a local sports bar. Where I took it out on Sean as frustration and in the bathroom as tears. Which was neither appropriate or productive. But, that’s a trick of grief…we take it out on those closest to us. And they do the same. And that is “normal” and “expected” but still sucks.

When we got home, there was a small flood in our basement from all the rain, so we spent (and will spend again) an hour or so dealing with that. And, while manning the shop vac, I caught myself thinking, “Rain, inside and out. My house and I seem to be on the same page.” Because, really what I was feeling at lunch and continue to feel now is a deep sense of loss…but this time a “I think I have lost myself so completely that I will never find my way back” kind of loss. And it scared the crap out of me. C.S. Lewis wrote, “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” True. So very true.

I have spent my life working toward the things that make you happy. A good job, a comfortable home, a loving partner. And, overall, I have achieved each of those things through a whole lot of hard work. My purpose, it seems, was to work on preserving history and sharing it with others. And I was content with that. And then, I got pregnant. And all the things I had spent so much time focusing on seemed a little less important. Suddenly, my purpose was being as healthy as I could be so that our son could be as healthy as he could be. And I was ok with that. It felt good to loosen my grip on my career a bit. It felt right.

Then, Bennie was born and my purpose shifted again to getting him help and being his advocate and then grasping desperately at the time we had to make memories before he was gone. And then, caring for his body and our broken hearts.

Now, the foundation seems a good focus. But, when working on it I find it hard to see the good for the simple fact that very reason it exists is because Bennie doesn’t. And that brings so much sorrow to the surface that I feel like I am drowning in it. So, what will my purpose be? And how will I find my way through? Today, I just don’t see it. I see rain. And sadness. And hurt. And no direction. And enormous, heart wrenching, overwhelming loss, both of a literal physical body and a figurative emotional one. I am lost, in every way I can be. And mostly, I am just really very sad.