Can I Crash?

I've been really brave lately.

Booking flights and planning trips without G. He always did these things for us.

Getting ready to go out of the country with my son - my first time traveling internationally since mine and G's honeymoon (which he planned and took care of all the details for).

Moving forward in life. Getting recessed lights put in to replace the track lights we had (that doesn't sound big but was huge for me). Hiring someone to do my taxes (again huge). Spending a LOT of money on summer camps and summer travel.

Building new relationships.

Considering a new church.

Planning P's birthday party for the first time without G. Coming around to the Spring again and all that it entails. Inviting people to a fundraising dinner that I haven't talked to since G died. Facing my grief. Facing my life.

But today? I want to crash. There is a wave of grief and of missing G. Of being tired of having to be brave and strong.

I'm tired of being alone and so cognizant that no one will ever replace G. I'm tired of handling all the decisions myself. I'm tired of being brave, facing fears, being vulnerable, growing, maturing, being a single parent. Growing up. Alone.

Figuring out how to be friends with people who don't have time or space for me. Figuring out who I am.

Feeling like I'm succeeding in some areas only to be continually failing in others.

Seeing so many ways that I am trying to escape my grief and seeing how relentless it is.

Wondering why people are proud of me when I'm doing well but not proud of me for grieving well. Wary of another conversation with P's therapist that gives me a list of ways I could be a better mom. Wary of all the ways that I know that I could be a better mom that she isn't aware of.

Wondering if by the time I am stitched back together, if I will even recognize myself. So many good changes, but hard ones too. Is all change hard? It feels that way. Even the fun things are infused with sorrow.

P stopped asking to sleep with a "Daddy shirt" every night and he hasn't wanted me to read him Winnie the Pooh for a week or so. We've been reading Winnie the Pooh every night since before G died. We were in the mist of it when he died and we've just kept circling through the 3 books ever since. But now he doesn't want to read it. He's bored of it.

And I know that's a good sign. He's moving forward. But it's also hard to see. I want him to be happy and whole and healed, but it's hard to see him growing up and moving past these things that reminded him of his dad. Even though I was worrying before that he'd never want to stop reading these books or snuggling with the shirts. And now that he's stopped I'm sitting here sobbing!

I think I've been doing a good job building this new life. But today I just hate that I have to. I'm almost 37 and I'm starting over. In most ways. And I'm doing it alone. There's no knight coming to rescue me. There's no person or persons that can plug this hole. I have to grow into this new role and this new life but gosh does it feel painful today.